Saturday, February 07, 2009

Looking for a unique Valentine's Day gift in the Metro Moncton area?

Surprise your sweetheart with a singing Valentine!

A barbershop quartet is available to sing a love song, present a red rose, chocolates and a $10 dining certificate for Vito's Restaurant to your loved one at home or at the workplace.

Dates: Friday, February 13, and Saturday, February 14.

Cost: $50

To avoid disappointment, book early!

Call (506) 386-6471 to schedule your gift.

For more information, click here!

Want to see what one of their presentations may look like? Check out this video where a lucky lady in Miami got a surprise from her sweetheart:

Friday, February 06, 2009

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Little things remind us we're getting older

Hump Day
By Brian Cormier
Moncton Times & Transcript
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Editorial Page

For some reason, it hits me every once in awhile that I'm getting older. Normally, I don't think much about it. After all, the alternative is not getting older at all. And, quite frankly, I'm not ready to take the "eternal dirt nap" just yet.

Some things keep popping up, though, to remind me that I'm getting long in the tooth. One of those things, of course, is that in about a month I'll officially be in my mid-40s. Right now, I can still claim to be in my early 40s. Next month, however, that luxury will have flown out the window. At 45, you're definitely "mid" not "early".

I got a haircut last Friday after work. You know, there really should be a bylaw about the colour of those capes that hairstylists and barbers put over you when they're cutting your hair. Dark ones, for instance, should be illegal. They show the grey hair way too easily. As I was sitting in the chair getting my head buzzed, I looked down and asked myself who all this white hair belonged to? I didn't really care for the answer that was staring back from the mirror right in front of me.

My oldest niece just turned 13. She's now officially a teenager. The oldest of my old school friends' kids just got his beginners driver's licence. The little kid I remember jumping around his living room in a Batman costume now has a girlfriend and a voice like the guy who says "This is CNN." Where did the time go?

Another friend of mine who became a father when he was only 19 now has a daughter in university. He's still a few years away from hitting 40 and it's not within the realm of impossibility that he could be a grandfather before then. I recently advised him that if he does, I would drive to his office (in another city two hours away) and pummel him senseless. He laughed. I didn't. I wasn't kidding. No one who I still think of as a "kid" is going to be a grandfather. It's just not permitted.

I've just gotten used to saying "20 years ago" when relating stories about work, university, etc. Just the other day, I saw that my old homeroom teacher from my first year of high school died. She was 82 and was my teacher 30 years ago. Coincidentally, my first column for this newspaper also goes back to my first year of high school, so I go back 30 years with the very publication you are reading me in right now. It doesn't feel that long. So now, the term "30 years ago" is slowly making its way into my frame of reference.

I can still smell the intoxicating aroma of the ink from when the newspaper used to be printed in the old part of the building. Back then, I used to hand in my column written on a manual typewriter on cheap, flimsy yellow typing paper. A typist at the newspaper would then have to redo everything in the system. Seems like an ancient way of doing things and I still find it hard to believe that I'm old enough to have used a manual typewriter on a regular basis. These days, journalism students likely have never seen a manual typewriter, except in a museum.

I went to a large business dinner last week where I seemed to know every second person there. A colleague from work who came with me commented that I knew everyone. Well, I didn't know everyone, but I did know quite a few.

Between people I went to high school or university with, people I met doing volunteer work, those I met through past jobs, and a variety of clients and other friends, I seem to have impressed her with my networking. Heck, I was even impressing myself at one point. But then again, I'd hope that I'd know quite a few people at this point in my career.

Still, it made me feel like I was getting older.

I've written about this subject a few times before. I guess different things jar me into writing about it again from time to time -- like the grey hair on the cape. I guess as we age, different things start to remind us of our own mortality.

The top layers of the family tree are starting to thin out. There is only one relative left from my grandparents' generation -- my great aunt Adèle, who'll be 103 this year. By all accounts, that is quite elderly, but when I think back to my actual grandparents, they would be right up there if they were still living today. My paternal grandfather (born in the 1800s) would be 116 years old this year, while my grandmother would be 106. My maternal grandfather would be 105, and my grandmother 103. My great great aunt Obéline, who I'd met as child, would be more than 135 if she were still alive today.

I don't mind getting older. Life is just getting better and better, as far as I'm concerned. The best is yet to come.

I just hope I never caught up in the trap of negative talk about aging, such as "If my health holds out..." and "If I live that long..." Personally, I fully expect to be healthy and to live a long time. When it's time to go, though, I'll tip my hat to the world, thank everyone for the great time I had and bid a fond adieu until we meet again.

In the meantime, there's a great quote that I like. "Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up and totally worn out, screaming, 'Woohoo! What a ride'!"

That doesn't mean I'll be bungee jumping off a cliff tied to a starving crocodile, by any means, but until it's my time to go, I'll keep busy and accomplish as much as I can. There'll be time to relax once I'm signing the guest book at the Pearly Gates.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

This week's Hump Day column...

... is about the little things that remind us that we're all slowly but surely aging. Read Hump Day on the editorial page of today's Moncton Times & Transcript or check back here tomorrow when it will be available online.

If it's Wednesday, it's Hump Day!

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Today is the 50th anniversary of The Day the Music Died

On February 3, 1959, the entertainment world was rocked by the deaths of several top singing starts in a plane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa: Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson. The tragedy became known as "The Day the Music Died" and was immortalized in the song by Don McLean in 1971.

Buddy Holly:

Ritchie Valens:

J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson:

Here's Don McLean singing American Pie:

Monday, February 02, 2009

It's Groundhog Day!

Is spring arriving early or late this year? Click here to check out, the official site of Punxsutawney Phil.

UPDATE: Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this morning, so there are six weeks left of winter, if you believe that sort of stuff. (Considering this is Canada, double that!)

Sunday, February 01, 2009