Whether by design or mere accident, I have been told that I have a reputation for being a recluse, which observation frankly surprises me, though I do not feel injured in any way. In my own mind, I perhaps mistakenly harbour the view that I am rather out-going, but that just shows you how wrong one can be about oneself. Getting to know people is, I suppose, an undertaking which can take time. At least, such it is with my neighbours. Even after seventeen years in the same house at 4 Laura Crescent, I confess that I have only marginal acquaintance with most of my immediate neighbours. The exception is Barb and Dave Scott, who live next door. Dave has the distinction of being the son of the late Mr. “Dinty” Scott, former owner of the Superior Restaurant which is so dear to my heart. Barb, like my own mother, has a good measure of French Canadian blood in her, and it looks as though the mixture of Dave's Lanark County Scottish stock and her own “joie de vivre” has worked as well for them as it has for my own parents.
Barb and Dave are both teachers by profession. As is not uncommon, we have enjoyed over the years throwing barbs at one another in a joking matter regarding our respective professions. Often the jokes as so much alike, whether for lawyers or teachers, that the simple change of a noun will suffice. But Dave leaves himself wide open for another entire spectra of jokes, because he has the “Lanark County Twang”, for lack of a better description. The amusement focuses upon his pronunciation of such words as “bank”, “binder twine”, “G'Day!, “cloudy” and the like. The accent no doubt has its roots in Scottish or even Irish accents, but the melting pot of Lanark County has produced its own singular features. Dave does, however, distinguish himself by being a real sport about the teasing. His friend, Lyndon Somerton (also a teacher), bears the same hallmark, so the repartee makes for good fun.
The sons of Dave and Barb are Paul and Steve. For the longest time, I had trouble telling them apart, and of course I had little if anything to do with either of them. The first time I became aware that they had an individual personality was on the heals of a concert at the Town Hall. I had attended the concert with a couple of young ladies who were exchange students from Switzerland and Japan. Following the performance, I invited them and their hostess to visit me at my home for a snack and drinks. The young girls, to my astonishment, immediately accepted the invitation, but not for the reason I had expected. They knew I lived next door to Paul Scott, who, it turns out, was clearly some kind of teenage idol. Regrettably for the girls, they did not get a glimpse of His Holiness while visiting my home, but I have no doubt that the mere proximity to the Shrine was more than satisfying for them.
Paul is the older of the two boys, but only by a year or so. Steve was a little longer coming into focus for me, at least until I encountered him at a local social gathering, where I quickly became aware that this young boy from next door had developed into an intellectual, though he too seemed to have his own following of young ladies.
As Paul approached the decision of university, I became involved with him on the subject. Having made my own decision to attend Glendon Hall rather than Trinity College (University of Toronto), I was fully aware of the significance of such a choice. We discussed the matter on and off. I rather doubt that anything I said shifted the scales in one direction or another (since he eventually decided
Barb and Dave are both teachers by profession. As is not uncommon, we have enjoyed over the years throwing barbs at one another in a joking matter regarding our respective professions. Often the jokes as so much alike, whether for lawyers or teachers, that the simple change of a noun will suffice. But Dave leaves himself wide open for another entire spectra of jokes, because he has the “Lanark County Twang”, for lack of a better description. The amusement focuses upon his pronunciation of such words as “bank”, “binder twine”, “G'Day!, “cloudy” and the like. The accent no doubt has its roots in Scottish or even Irish accents, but the melting pot of Lanark County has produced its own singular features. Dave does, however, distinguish himself by being a real sport about the teasing. His friend, Lyndon Somerton (also a teacher), bears the same hallmark, so the repartee makes for good fun.
The sons of Dave and Barb are Paul and Steve. For the longest time, I had trouble telling them apart, and of course I had little if anything to do with either of them. The first time I became aware that they had an individual personality was on the heals of a concert at the Town Hall. I had attended the concert with a couple of young ladies who were exchange students from Switzerland and Japan. Following the performance, I invited them and their hostess to visit me at my home for a snack and drinks. The young girls, to my astonishment, immediately accepted the invitation, but not for the reason I had expected. They knew I lived next door to Paul Scott, who, it turns out, was clearly some kind of teenage idol. Regrettably for the girls, they did not get a glimpse of His Holiness while visiting my home, but I have no doubt that the mere proximity to the Shrine was more than satisfying for them.
Paul is the older of the two boys, but only by a year or so. Steve was a little longer coming into focus for me, at least until I encountered him at a local social gathering, where I quickly became aware that this young boy from next door had developed into an intellectual, though he too seemed to have his own following of young ladies.
As Paul approached the decision of university, I became involved with him on the subject. Having made my own decision to attend Glendon Hall rather than Trinity College (University of Toronto), I was fully aware of the significance of such a choice. We discussed the matter on and off. I rather doubt that anything I said shifted the scales in one direction or another (since he eventually decided
upon Bishop's University, where his friend Ricky Brown was), but we had at least opened the paths of communication. More importantly for me was the pleasure I derived from sharing his excitement about the whole undertaking, which included the not insignificant step of leaving home for the first time. Here, I considered myself a master, having abandoned the nest from the age of thirteen, never to return.
As Paul progressed through University, he made a point, upon his returns for holidays, of visiting me at my Office to bring me up to date. He was clearly doing well, and his parents were obviously and justifiably very proud. There were some trying moments, such as when the Quebec Government levelled idle threats against the “non-residents” for exercising a vote during the Referendum; but in retrospect, those annoying moments have provided fodder for a good laugh.
Eventually, Paul was off to his first job as a graduate with no less than the Royal Bank of Canada, on no less than Bay Street in Toronto.
Steve has also proved to be very successful; and he punctuated his undergraduate studies by going to Leeds University in England.
Barb has always surprised me in one odd way. I understand that until she was fifty, she never drank. But, upon turning fifty, she started. And as recently as September 25th, 1999 she reported that she had had her first martini!
As Paul progressed through University, he made a point, upon his returns for holidays, of visiting me at my Office to bring me up to date. He was clearly doing well, and his parents were obviously and justifiably very proud. There were some trying moments, such as when the Quebec Government levelled idle threats against the “non-residents” for exercising a vote during the Referendum; but in retrospect, those annoying moments have provided fodder for a good laugh.
Eventually, Paul was off to his first job as a graduate with no less than the Royal Bank of Canada, on no less than Bay Street in Toronto.
Steve has also proved to be very successful; and he punctuated his undergraduate studies by going to Leeds University in England.
Barb has always surprised me in one odd way. I understand that until she was fifty, she never drank. But, upon turning fifty, she started. And as recently as September 25th, 1999 she reported that she had had her first martini!
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