Rick Goodman is a friend of mine who has worked as one of the bartenders at Fat Tuesdays for many years and anyone who has come to see the duelling piano show has seen him play drums from behind the bar during the show.  Rick recently got back to Ottawa after a vacation on a resort from Jamaica.  When I arrived at the bar to set up for my gig Friday night, he told me he had a story for me and that I was going to be jealous. Thats a great way to begin any story and I was immediately curious.

He told me that while he was standing in line at the buffet on the resort their was a man in front of him that looked awfully familiar. He said that he wasn't sure where he had recognized him from, until the man turned around. Guess who it was?.........Paul friggin Mcartney! I know that for some people this may seem like just running into any old celebrity but for a musician like Rick or me or anyone who loves music as much as we do, this is like standing next to one of the most legendary people in the history of music! It's like meeting Beethoven. Rick's wife told him that he shouldn't bother Paul so Rick fought every urge in his body not to bother him (do you like how I am writing this like as if I was there? Can't help it. I feel like it's my story too now) and so he didn't bother him.

The next day Rick was down by the beach getting some snorkel gear when along comes this guy in a little sunfish boat attempting to paddle out further into the water. Guess who it is?.......Paul friggin Mcartney!  This time Rick couldn't help himself. As he walked up to Paul he said, "Exuse me, I don't want to bother you. I just wanted to shake your hand," to which Paul replied "Not a good time. I'll shake your hand later. Help me with this boat."  

So Rick helped him get his boat out into the water and away went Paul. Rick said he was devastated because he felt like he had just annoyed one of his childhood heroes. Paul's wife came over to Rick and said "Sorry about that. He's been having trouble with that boat all day."

45 minutes later Rick was on the beach with his family when along comes........guess who... And Paul says "O.K, now it's a good time. Nice to meet you."  

So finally Rick got to chat with Paul and and introduced him to his wife and little girl. He said he was really nice and looked really good in a bathing suit for someone of his age (Rick's words, not mine). Rick said that even while he was swimming in the ocean, sometimes Paul would be swimming past singing to himself as he swam along. 

What's really strange about this for me, is that Rick had this dream a couple nights  after he met Paul that he was at Fat Tuesdays telling Dave, Todd, and myself about this experience. Oddly enough I also had a dream earlier that week, that I was going to meet Paul McCartney.  In the dream I was staying overnight at the Black Sheep Inn in Wakefield, and the owner of the place told me that the next morning I would meet him.

I was so excited and honoured in this dream (it's amazing how even though the circumstances in a dream can be so ridiculous you still feel as if whatever is happening is real)  and as I approached the door of the room he was in, I knocked and it opened and instead of a regular Paul, out came this tiny dwarf version of him and I remember feeling so disappointed and confused by his appearance. He was wearing a white tuxedo and he was late for something so as he rushed by me I just said, "It was an honour to meet you,"  as tiny Paul went on his way.

Perhaps he was heading to the airport for a flight to Jamaica....

This post is dedicated to Ida Monette and the Monette family.

This past Thursday was the 17th of November.  It was 15 years ago that a tragic accident claimed the lives of 3 members of my family.  It was one of those experiences in life that changes you forever.  One where the sequence of events are tattooed in your mind for as long as you live and one of those moments where you dig deep inside your own thoughts and feelings in search of answers and reasons to help you cope with the mysterious experience of life and death.  It's strange that we all deal with the loss of loved ones in different ways.  This is how it was for me.

I was 15 years old.  I was coming up the stairs of the hockey arena in Kanata after my game.  I had my hockey stick and my bag of equipment in my hand and my uncle Lionel was there there.  I wasn't expecting him since I figured my mom or dad would be picking me up.  There was something off by the look on his face.  He wasn't smiling and I could tell something wasn't right.

"Tyler, there's been a bad accident," he said.  Suddenly everything froze.  I can still remember walking to his car and him driving as we made our way to my parents house in silence.  I knew it was bad and all I could think of was the names and the faces of all the people in my life spinning around like a roulette wheel and I wondered whose name the ball would drop on.

We got to the house where dozens of family members were gathered.  One thing about my family is that in a time of need, there are always a lot of people there to support you.  The house was full of people I knew and one by one my their names were removed from my suspicions of who it could be.  I caught sight of my mom who looked very shaken and upset as she had gotten word that my aunt Kathy, my uncle Guy and my cousin Mike were killed in an car accident leaving behind their two sons, Jeremy and Jamie.  Guy, Kathy, and Mike were coming home from one of Mike's practices and they hit some black ice on a long stretch of road where they crashed head on with a tractor trailer.

I remember not knowing how to feel.  I could see the devastation in the faces of the people around me but I was still trying to process the information.  It didn't seem real to me which is part of the shock that a lot of people experience.  There are so many flashes of images that I can recall. I remember the funeral and the hundreds of people in attendance in that tiny church.  I remember the heart swelling speech that Jeremy gave on behalf of the family.  I remember the news reporters at the Monette house interviewing my dad about his sister Kathy, Guy and Mike.

I remember walking to school the first day back after the funeral and searching for an answer for what had happened.  How could I cope with losing these three people so suddenly?  They are gone forever...I can never talk with them or laugh with them or visit them so what can I hold on to?  I guess for me, the only thing that seemed attainable were the stories and memories of these people when they were around.  Life was just a big story.   They were characters in my book, my play, my song, my poem and by preserving their memory I was able to keep a part of them immortal.

Guy was like a cartoon character for me.  A big jolly bearded farmer with a big jolly bearded smile, and a crazy laugh like a mad man.  I always remember him joking around at Christmas time and I remember going down to the stable with him to see the new born kittens and his horse named Molly.

Mikey was my older cousin.  He was quite a handful and he definitely inherited his dad's rambunctiousness.  I remember him pulling me on a sled with his skidoo in the winter when I was a kid.  I remember when Jamie took the two of us my first ever rock concert to see Aerosmith.  Mikey knew how to push someone's buttons, and we always had fun playing around at the farm.

Kathy was so gentle in my memory.  I remember her taking me swimming and I can hear her laughing and how it sounded just like my Grandma's laugh.  I remember her dancing with Guy at their surprise anniversary party at Brennan's Hill Hotel as my band played "Lost together."  She loved Blue Rodeo.

Characters was one of the first songs I ever wrote and it all came out of putting life in perspective for me after this tragedy.  I've always like songs with a good story behind them.  It gives the song a life but it also gives life itself some meaning.  It turns people close to you into a treasure chest of memories.

There were a lot of people touched by the lives of these three people.  If you have any thoughts or memories that you would like to share, please feel free to add a comment below.  After all, a good story can be told from many angles.  This is just mine.

Jeff got this one. He said " I'm confused... do I play Sweet Home Alabama or Sweet Caroline? I looked around the room and notice this guys looking embarrassed and his friends all laughing at him. I suspect he was the culprit. All in good fun :)


 

 I fear for the depleting attention span of the human population. Everybody wants to get to the end before they even begin. Its a funny world!

At the Ottawa Bluesfest this past summer, I worked out a piano solo as an intro to one of my songs, and I've just gotten around to uploading a clip of it to YouTube. Here it is: