RE: Years gone by - with many a smile

From: "COLLEEN MACKENZIE"
To: "David Christopher"

Young David:
I have read some of your blogs. You are very talented and your joy in writing shows. I am so happy that you have found what brings you that joy, telling the stories of those that you love and the ones that love you.
I am working on a scrapbook of memories and photos with our Blair, stories I hope his nephews will come to love. It is not easy. I hope it will show his love for life and those who were a big part of it. He lived just a year longer in Canada and in two years time his memory and love will have lived longer in us, than he walked this earth. The pain of loss changes but never lessens.
I have some great photos of the haunted house back in the eighties along with the days building our cottage on Taylor Lake. The BMX bike jumping over stacked bodies (I smile to think of those times). Thank you for being the encourager and friend to our Blair. I watched the two of you searching and developing those creative abilities.
Reading your 'Canadian Adventures' blog answers a lot of my ?. Unfortunately, my reading on-line is limited with the progression of the Parkinson's.
I love the name Lilian. I know she will be a treasured challenge.
I would love a signed copy of your book when published.

Love and Prayers Always,
Colleen.


From: "David Christopher"
To: "COLLEEN MACKENZIE"

Dear Colleen:
I did not know that you were suffering from Parkinson's and I am terribly saddened to learn it. I am glad that you have read some of my blog and want to express to you that you always have been, and always will be one of the most important people that have been in my life. I know that I have been distant for many years but want you to know that in so many ways I am not the little brat that you once knew, and in so many ways I still am. I miss Blair as much today as I did when we first lost him, and no matter how much time passes, his time with me will always be longer in my heart than the time he has been gone. I never had any faith, and I still don't, but if ever I believed in anything, I believe that he watches over me every day. And I'm sure he laughs at me for being exactly what he always knew I would be. Blair Mackenzie lives on in my son in so much more than just his name, and I truly feel he is in Blair Christopher as much as I am. I wish I could be closer so that you could know him better. I love you dearly and hope to be home to see you some time. Remember for as long as you can, and after that, I will do my best to remember for you.

727 Singalong

An e-mail I sent to Marianne on my second day in Mexico on my fifth trip to that country:

"The Mexican people efface their own cliche with a bold buoyancy from which the rest of the world could learn a much needed lesson. Notwithstanding, their risibility is still well earned as their social rituals are sometimes naively proud, and comically loud.
While boarding my evening flight from Monterrey to Mexico, it came to my attention that the population of this flight exemplified the cliche a little more than usual. The passengers were visibly stereotypical, complete with a sombrero here, a pancho there, a mustachio in the back, and I think I saw a goat running across the aisle. I chuckled and took my seat when the pilot promptly announced over the intercom that "air traffic at our destination in Mexico City was quite heavy so we will delay our departure by twenty minutes to allow the congestion to subside." Pretty good English, I thought to myself as I reclined back into my seat and let my heavy eyelids ease shut.
My condescending appreciation was abruptly interrupted. Seated somewhere behind me, a typically gregarious young fellow pulled out a guitar-like instrument that I'm guessing was a mariachi. He began playing and singing a bouncy little Mexican ditty so that all could hear. Within a few seconds, not finding it the least bit disruptive, some of, and then most of the other passengers quite willingly began singing along with him until I was regaled with a full chorus Mexican serenade, of which all members were otherwise utter strangers singing along to this obviously well known song. It was a little gauche and a lot humourous, and it made me stop and think how unlikely it would be to have any such sociable liberty occur on a flight originating from Canada. By the time they started into the encore-hailed second song, the plane began to move and the singalong slowly faded to quiet. I thought that I had been blessed with yet another singular anecdotal blog entry but I had 'spoken' too soon, for the flight was not yet over.
Some twenty minutes later, I had had my nose buried in an History of Opera book and was distracted from the moment. The flight attendant approached me, what felt like 'out of the blue', and said, "Would ju like-a some penis?"
"Uh. Excuse me?"
"Some penis. Some penis. Ju are want some penis? For put in jour mouth. Penis for jour mouth."
I was dumbfounded and it caused her some impatient frustration. She pulled a small package from the cart and dangled it in my face. "Oooooooh! Some PEANUTS. Right, right. No, thank you." Even if I had wanted them, I doubt they would have settled properly after that little interaction. The plane landed uneventfully in a rain-soaked Mexico city and I alighted with laughter."

See you in hell,
Shakes.