The Alan Doyle Story

French finally made it up to the staffroom this week. He had been hiding out most days in the basement. French had found a little unknown nook to sneak a quick pull from his Benson and Hedges, but that day he felt social.

The teacher ladies were talking about seeing Robin Hood - it had just come out on DVD. French piped up how he knew Alan Doyle, also of Great Big Sea, who played a role in that film.

As usual, French's story got a little gritty. He told the story of the time that he had partied with Alan at the Edmonton Folk festival. Doyle had needed to "hang a piss", but he was holding two pitchers of beer. French held the beers. The grateful Doyle invited us to "party". French and I partied with the rest of the boys from the band and a couple of lads from Blue Rodeo. French did not spare any of the debauched details.

When he finished the story every teacher had left the room. He turned to me and with his big grin said: "I guess they don't like Canadian music".

Notebook Poems - Two Sides of French

These are a couple of poems from French's notebook.

One

little fashion risk taker
boots, heels, skirts, flair
loving and hating the stares
so deeply fragile
beautiful, but breaking
in front of the class

Two

blood in tiny splatters
a red mist
a fight unfaded
jumped and suckered in '92
tides turned
heads faces pulped

evidence blackened
above the urinal
years later

Teacher's New Year

Just got off the phone with French. He is a little nervous about tomorrow. All teachers get a little nervous on Labour Day. This truly is the teacher's New Year. Forget about January 1st.

French has bit more weighing on him than the average teacher; coming back as a teacher, at the same school, after being off with a year's suspension. It was about a year ago when he took off in a hot air balloon and started a year of adventures. I've tried to comment on most of them in this blog.

It was pretty boring without him around last year, so I'm looking forward to being his colleague again.

Back to the phone call: French asked me to go out for lunch tomorrow. I said "Sure." Even though I had already packed a lunch. He was glad that I agreed because his fridge was pretty bare. He only a had a beer, some salsa, a bag of rotten oranges and a bottle of pre-mixed Margarita. A new year, but the same old French.

Raccoon Baseball

Raccoon's can be a real problem. I throw in some compost and they troop out of the forest. I took this picture of a demon coon in the spring. Crazy bastard.

French had a way to deal with pesky coons. I may have to give it a try...again. There was a big pack of raccoons up a tree above the camp gunge pile. This heap of left-over food attracted them in droves. We chucked a few rocks half heartily to shoo them off so that we could dump some more scraps and not get attacked.

This American lad wandered up while we were doing this gross task. It was his first day on the job. French said: "Hey bud - heard you were a baseball player?" The new guy agreed with that assessment. French challenged him to "plug a raccoon". The new guy was a little hesitant, but French egged him on. The American picked up a fist sized rock and absolutely laced a fat raccoon right between the eyes. It fell bouncing off several branches.

It landed twitching at the feet of our boss, who had wandered up to see what was taking us so long.

We both pointed at the new American guy. The boss didn't go for it. He just looked and French shook his head.

Sunday Night with Johnny Cash

There was an open stage down at this little bar called Raw Sugar Sunday night. Couple of us decided to check it out; plus they had Beau's on tap. It was a tiny little place with only one beer tap. There was also only one girl working. She got a little scared when French asked her: "How rowdy can we get in here?"

We listened to a couple of fine singers, and we started buying rounds like we did back at university. French finally took off his cowboy hat and hit the stage with his guitar. French had everyone take off their hats as well. Then he told everyone to stand up. Pancake, Sweaty, and I all got up right away; everyone else followed suit. He then sang I Shall Not Be Moved Johnny Cash style. French had 'em all singing and clapping. Excellent finish to the night, or so I thought. There was one more little adventure worth mentioning.

Pancake was hungry - as usual. We hit up some stale pizza then headed out into the rain. Outside French immediately started to talk to a homeless man who was missing one arm from the elbow down. The homeless guy said: "Can you spare a little for a fella that just had the worst day of his life"? French looked at his stump, handed him some money and said: "Worse than the day you lost your hand?"

That was damn good point. We all gave him some cash and a few slices too.

Linked to Imperfect Prose - Redemption.

Perpetual Yard Sale

French and I went to see the new baby. Rose and Bruce have their first; a little girl: Destiny Fish. We pulled up into the dump and drove up to the shed. Bruce Fish had a display; all kinds of girly items from the dump that spelled out "It's a Girl". We chatted for a bit and then went to visit Rose. She was at her perpetual yard sale.

Rose has spent the last couple of weeks with her two constant companions: her ever present bible and Destiny. She sits in a big lazy boy chair under a tarp. She even has a little school desk with a cashier sign.

Rose comes to the dump and wanders around pulling out the best items. Bruce cleans them up does a few repairs, and they truck them back down the highway to their place. Today Bruce had just finished repairing a Microwave; which he called an easy twenty bucks. Their front yard is a never ending yard sale. They have rows a tables filled with items. They put the best items up front. Many cottagers and campers buy the old dump gems back. Bruce said that sales went up 23% when he put up a sign that said ANTIQUES in huge block letters. He even got this sign out of the dump.

On their days off Bruce and Rose drive around and pick up stuff off the curbs on garbage days. They usual bring back a full truck of "goods" from the streets of Kingston. Bruce calls these days his tinkering days. I questioned him once about this habit. " Don't you get enough of junk and trash at work?" He said: "I sure do, but the dump can't keep up with the demand".

The Funeral Tie

Just got the news from French. He got his old job back: teaching high-school. He'll be back at HHS this September. His resume and experience is just what they needed. French is teaching one section of guitar, media, metal-shop, gym and two English classes.

He said: "I'm the filler inner".

French had been bowling with the superintendent. They became good buds. Their team was called the "Tap-Benders". French is now back in the board.

Since he was last in the classroom he's sleeved his left arm in tattoos. He never wears long sleeves so that'll create some controversy with the PTA.

He has a solution. French keeps an old tie in his garage. We came back from a friend's funeral back in 2007 and he got out of the car and he took it off and hung it on a nail before going inside. Over the last three years it has got a little beat up and cob-webby. He calls it his "funeral tie'. French never wore it teaching before.

French rubbed it down with a swiffer and said: "this touch of class will make up for my tats".