When CHOM was Home - Rhino Runs Rampant

I grew up watching – and loving – the animated Spider-Man series that was on television from 1967 to 1970. One of the series characters that seemed to capture my imagination was The Rhino. He was no criminal mastermind, he would basically lower his head and use his bulk and horn to bull his way through any and all obstacles.

I guess he captured Pete Marier’s imagination as well.

We worked the afternoons together for a while, back when Bad Pete had a parrot. On occasion, one of us would charge at the other, head lowered, in our best imitations of Rhino on the loose in the CHOM hallways.

March 17, 1999

It was the afternoon of Thursday December 3, 1998, a few minutes before I went on the air to do the 5 o’clock newscast. As we chatted in the CHOM studio, Pete lowered his head and charged in my direction. I stepped aside, which, if memory serves, was allowed in our game. He body checked the Wall of Fame, which, if you look closely at the photo in my previous blog, was full of autographs and messages written by the rock stars who visited the radio station over the years. The impact of Pete hitting the wall left a gaping hole.

In the moments after the hole happened, it was hastily decided we would plead ignorance, if questioned. Then, we less hastily decided honesty might be the best policy. In the end, we confessed to our Program Director, Ian Maclean, who laughed about it. He shook our hands, more relieved than anything else that it was not a case of unbridled and gratuitous malevolence.

Ian said something like, “If only the Habs could check like this.”

I can’t remember which artists’ autographs disappeared as a result of Rhino’s charge, but I do remember how bizarre the wall looked with a fresh white patch in the middle of all the colorful felt scribbles and scrawls.

It could be a little nerve-wracking not knowing when the Rhino might come a-rumbling - when CHOM was home.

When CHOM was Home - The Stairmaster

It was fairly usual as a news anchor at CHOM to have celebrities in the studio with us at news time. In most cases, the assorted rock stars would be waiting for the live newscast to end before going on the air for an interview with the announcer. Sometimes at news time, artists would be warming up for a musical performance after the newscast and, once I was done reading, I would conveniently linger.

David Bowie, Slash, Burton Cummings, Train, I was never sure, aside from murmurs in the hallways, who I would discover in the studio at news time. Regardless of who I met in there, I'm proud to say that I was able to deliver the news coherently and credibly. After I had finished, many of the famous visitors would compliment me, or offer a reaction to a story I had read. Cool.

Without being indiscreet, I can tell you I have been poked, prodded, pinched and tickled while reading newscasts. Once, in the middle of a newscast, I glanced over at Too Tall to see two long pencils dangling from his nostrils!

Before we had computer screens to read the news, we used paper. I would leave the weather forecast on a piece of paper in the studio when I finished, so that it would be there on the news table when I returned to read the newscast an hour later. One day while I was reading a paper forecast on the air, Al Gravelle once reached over with his lighter and set it on fire.

One colleague sprayed me with a fire extinguisher while I was reading a newscast and the late Harry Schaffer would lob crumpled paper balls at me. The paper balls were manageable. It was only when one of them made a direct hit on the microphone that we would wince as we heard the deep “thump” in our headphones.

Still, I mostly managed to deliver the news coherently and credibly.

I had my kryptonite, however, and he was Marty Lamarre.

Music Director Neil Kushnir, DJ Paul Beauregard, members of The Cult and the "Stairmaster" on the far right

Marty and I played a lot of hockey together and made a lot of music. I would play guitar and he would play drums.

Whenever he was working the same shift as me at the radio station, I would implore and desperately beg him not to do his stair routine while I was on the air reading news.

In the middle of my newscast, he would sometimes jump up from his chair across from me and pretend he was going down stairs while flashing a goofy grin and frantically waving his hand at me. Then, of course, with great glee, he would pretend to come back up the stairs.

If he did it, I would lose it. And he knew it.

When I saw him at the CHOM 50^th anniversary a few weeks ago, he had forgotten about it. I wish I could. It still causes me nightmares.

I would have serious news stories to read and would beg him not to do the stairs! I would sit in the news chair reading from the computer screen while holding a piece of paper, or an article of clothing, up in front of me so that I wouldn’t be able to see Marty. If any part of him made it into my field of vision, I would inevitably imagine the rest of his antics and promptly lose it – when CHOM was home.

Pressing All My Buttons

I was sure it was my imagination. 

Who in the world would turn off their car engine, sometimes for barely a minute, at a traffic light? No one in their right mind, that’s who! In the summer with my window down, some cars around me at traffic lights seemed to be starting their engines before moving again. 

I sympathized, thinking, that’s a rather inconvenient mechanical problem.

Several months went by; enough time for me to realize that I wasn’t just hearing things, car engines were actually being switched off at traffic lights. There could not possibly be that many defective vehicles out there.

I concluded it was a thing. Deliberate and premeditated. 

Green-minded motorists must be voluntarily turning off their motors after being told by someone, somewhere, that one minute less of carbon monoxide in the atmosphere would be a positive thing for the world. After questioning the impact it would have on our planet, I concluded the practice of switching off a motor and then switching it on again, was no less ridiculous.

A few months ago, we bought a vehicle that, much to my dismay, suddenly switched off its motor at a traffic light. No one told me the vehicle had this feature/annoyance included. Suddenly, I was one of the - what I considered - hapless motorists with a vehicle that switches itself off at red lights and then on again when the light changed to green and I removed my foot from the brake pedal.

Not a chance! I am not going to drive like this.

I learned there is a button in the car that allows me to bypass the engine cutoff feature/annoyance. 

It would be much more practical to be able to shut it off for good, but, as it turns out, I have to shut it off each time I get in the car to make a trip.

Now as winter settles in, I get in the car in the morning, press the seat warmer button, the steering wheel warmer button and the button cancelling the engine idle cutoff feature/annoyance.

Are you sure this is progress?

Spilt Milk

It was a long time after the trade before Kawhi showed his face, which gave me the very distinct impression he wasn’t happy to be coming to Toronto. Now, he’s history. Thanks for stopping by, Kawhi.

During his season here - albeit a championship one - the city - the entire country - poured out its love for Kawhi. Condos, free restaurant meals, plants; you name it, and he was offered it by excited basketball fans!

Now, most conciliatory Canadians have accepted that he wanted to go home. I think as a professional athlete, having achieved what he did with this city, this country and his teammates, he could have - and should have - easily done one more year to thank Canadian fans for the support they showed him and to make it clear to fans that the city, the country, the team and the championship, meant more to him than a mere fling he was coerced into by a trade.

Of course, unless you’re Canadian, you can’t know what it means to be appreciated by our entire country. You have to understand how big and magnificent our country is before you can have any sense of the breadth of appreciation being showered upon you.

True, I got a Raptors NBA championship t-shirt out of the deal, but I haven’t worn it yet. It’s a heckuva nice shirt, but wearing it just seems to advertise the fact that it ain’t happening again because Kawhi bailed. There are certainly some pretty high-flying memories too, but they’re tainted by the absence of key players.

Remember that guy, Kawhi?

Even before the season ended, like so many other fans, I hoped he was going to stay. His time here would mean so much more. Same thing for the playoffs. I kept saying to my wife and son, it would feel pretty lousy to win the championship and have him leave. It would be as if he was unwillingly detoured here, lifted us out of our mediocrity and then, just as quickly, dropped us back in it before resuming his trajectory of choice. From a fan’s point of view, that’s not exactly a dream “team” scenario. Sure, they functioned as a team during the regular season and playoffs, but, to me, there always seemed to be instances where it felt like Kawhi was apart.

I got a t-shirt, but I would have preferred getting a team out of that championship year, one that is happy to be playing for their stoked fans and one that’s excited to take at least one more run at a championship next season. Imagine having a “team-by-choice” win a second championship to go along with the one won by a “team-by-trade”.

It’s possible Raptors players, having seen basketball greatness up close, have learned more about what it takes, in terms of mental toughness and physical performance, to pursue a championship. I am certain the Toronto players are better for what they observed.

As I said in my tweets and to friends during the regular season and playoffs, Kyle is the steady heart and soul of the Raptors. He’s invested seven seasons here and it means a lot to me as a fan that he chose to spend his time and energy in Canada. He has said he would like to stay here longer term and I hope they can make that happen at the end of the season.

If Toronto never wins another championship, Kawhi will have been a fortuitous blip in its basketball legacy. If Toronto wins a bunch more championships, Kawhi will have been that load-managed loaner who hightailed it out of here as soon as he got the chance. One more year, a decision to stay here by choice, would have made it mean so much more.

If Kawhi wins a bunch more championships, Toronto will have been a fortuitous but largely overshadowed blip in his basketball legacy. It will likely mean more to Toronto than to Kawhi. If he never wins another championship, Toronto will have been a fortuitous blip in his basketball legacy. It may mean more to Kawhi than to Toronto.

Will he ever have the adulation of an entire nation again? It’s possible, but not likely. Be that as it may, it’s spilt milk.

My wife says even though he’s gone, Kawhi has been saying all these nice things about Toronto and Canada. I say - actions speak louder than words.

Truth is, I’m trying not to dwell on it. Kawhi bother.

The Reacher Creature

There was considerable muttering on her part once the first movie came out. She made it very clear that, for her, Jack Reacher and Tom Cruise did not equate. Even though I could not understand why she found the choice of actor so immensely disconcerting, I was pretty sure that had I known what she knew, I would indubitably agree.

When the second movie came out, the indignant muttering persisted. She was completely annoyed by the casting of Cruise as Jack Reacher, the character she had come to know and appreciate over the course of twenty novels by Lee Child.

The Reacher paperbacks I've read

Every now and then, the topic would resurface. We might be watching a Tom Cruise movie, or she might be reading a new Jack Reacher novel. She had urged me several times to read one of the novels so that I might offer an enlightened perspective on her source of dismay. Last August, I finally agreed to read a story starring Jack Reacher.

I read “Midnight Line”, at the time, the latest of the Jack Reacher novels. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed him.

Then Susan suggested I start at the beginning of the series, which I did. The first book, a little too gruesome for my liking, is titled, “Killing Floor”.  You never know what the book plots will bring, I’ve learned to “hope for the best and prepare for the worst”.

Eight Reacher novels in, I got a Kindle for Christmas

Lee Child explains the thinking behind his creation of the Jack Reacher character, “I wanted the kind of vicarious satisfaction that comes from seeing bad guys getting their heads handed to them by a wrong-righter even bigger and harder than them.” In one of the novels, Reacher is described this way, “He was huge, for a start. He was one of the largest men she had ever seen outside of the NFL. He was extremely tall, and extremely broad, and long-armed, and long-legged. The lawn chair was regular size, but it looked tiny under him. It was bent and crushed out of shape. His knuckles were nearly touching the ground. His neck was thick and his hands were the size of dinner plates. His clothes were creased and dirty. His hair was matted.”

Like Susan, I’m just not seeing Tom Cruise.

Here are some other descriptive phrases written by Child about Reacher, “Reacher was a big man, six feet five inches tall, heavily built, and that night as always he looked a little ragged and unkempt.” and “He had hands the size of supermarket chickens”.

Cruise don’t cut it.

I’ve sorta got hooked on Reacher; not the movie Reacher, the book Reacher. I’m a fan. When I’m not reading a Jack Reacher story, I miss him. I wonder what he’s up to. I wonder if he’s ok and who might be depending on him, for better or for worse, for justice and protection. I cheer for him. 

I’ve been binge reading - blowing through the Jack Reacher stories one after the other. I’m about to start “Make Me”. I’ve read a variety of authors, including Wilbur Smith and Irving Stone. Certainly, Lee Child’s writing is more functional, but I don’t need more than that and Reacher wouldn’t want more than that.

We occasionally discuss better casting choices. I could accept Liam Neeson in the role, while Susan is leaning more toward Chris Hemsworth.

I always look forward to the next Jack Reacher novel but, due to the aforementioned casting incongruities, I can’t possibly say the same for the movies.

One Wallet To Go

Hark!

As of yesterday, I have successfully reassembled the important cards contained in my wallet, after having it stolen a couple of weeks ago.

Driver’s permit replaced? Check.

Bank client card replaced? Check.

Credit card replaced? Check.

Health insurance card replaced? As of yesterday, check!

My social insurance card was not in my wallet when it was stolen Friday March 29^th.

My wife and I had decided to stop at a restaurant in Laval for supper. We sat in the corner window at a table with four chairs around it. I sat in a chair directly opposite my wife and draped my coat over the back of the empty chair to my left. We finished eating and we drove home. Later that night, my son texted me to go pick him up at the train station, at which point I began searching for my wallet.

When I got back home, I retraced the events of the evening in my mind, in hopes of figuring out what happened to my wallet. I remembered that, at one point during our meal at the restaurant, someone seemed to sit very close to our table. The person had backed their chair up against the chair with my coat on it. I remember thinking that the restaurant must be getting crowded. A few moments later, I noticed that the people who'd been sitting at that table were gone, with no trace they had even eaten. I remember thinking at the time that it was strange.

The next day, Saturday, I met with a Laval police officer at the restaurant and explained my theory that someone may have pickpocketed my coat as it was draped over a chair while we ate. Police checked the videotape in the restaurant and discovered that is exactly what happened!

Two men sat down at a table near us. One was facing us and the other had his back to us. The one facing us signaled to the other when it was safe to reach behind and dig into my coat pockets. The suspects were quick, coming into the restaurant and leaving with my wallet within three minutes.

By the time I cancelled it late Friday night, the suspects had racked up $531 in charges on my credit card, including $125 at an Ultramar. Police checked the videotape at the gas station listed on my credit card bill, but were unable to pull a complete plate number. They used footage of the suspects’ faces coming into the restaurant to identify one of them and the individual was arrested. Last I heard, the thief was to appear for a bail hearing.

Thankfully, my bank told me I was not liable for the charges on my credit card.

Laval police Constable Rick Green was amazing, keeping us in the loop all the way through the investigation. Knowing authorities were actively investigating the theft made it much easier to bear. Thank-you to Laval police and Constable Green for his professionalism and empathy.

My son had his wallet stolen out of our driveway several months earlier.

In his song “Where Have All the Good People Gone?”, rocker Sam Roberts sings “the modern world is a cold, cold world.” For us anyway, one police officer made it a little warmer.