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John Frame - Three Fragments of a Lost Tale

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Link of the day

Published: 28 April 2011

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Three Fragments of a Lost Tale from John Frame on Vimeo.

Doctor Rod Boyle

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 27 April 2011

Hits: 2379

"Upon finishing this sentence..." I tell myself "I'll be up for a literary award...".

And I pause to imagine it.

Now there are any variety of awards I could be winning, there's the Newberry Medal, the Man Booker Prize, the Nobel Prize, the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize, The Governor General's Award, myself, I'm partial to the Man Booker Prize and the Nobel.

Now the prize, of course, consists of a large cash disbursement and ???? Well, here I'm wondering. The Newberry Medal is presumably a medal, which would be good as I could wear it out. People would enquire and I'd tell them that it was nothing, and really, who would notice with all the other chevrons and epaulets I'd be wearing? Maybe even a sash, like my daughter gets to wear to Brownies, only mine would be in a discreet scarlet or tyrian purple.

But a trophy would be good too. Way better than a certificate, which nobody ever really reads or notices anyways. Trophies have weight, substance, they're more tangible. A trophy would form the centerpiece of my living room, the walls are already a bit heavily decorated with pictures and artworks, a trophy, that would be something. Maybe a giant pen, preferably Mont Blanc or Pelikan, doing battle with a sword, or a gold-plated statue of "The Thinker" by Rodin. I've always wanted a trophy, and while I see them all the time at thrift shops it rather seems to undermine the principle to buy them.

A trophy...

And I imagine I could have people over to look at it, admire it, I never have people over but that would change with the award, my place would become a literary Salon, I'd charge admission and then make extra by letting people get their pictures taken with my trophy.
That would be good.

Maybe they'd make my sentence into a film, which would win an Oscar which would be another trophy, but as I'm not really a fan of the Oscars to show my good sense and humble attitude ... I'd hide that trophy in a closet someplace.

Now it goes without saying that when I've won my award there will probably be a line up of universities dying to give me an honourary doctorate. I'd be fussy, busy on tours signing my name to books I hadn't written, being interviewed (and I'm a charming interview, I must tell you) on the CBC by Jian Ghomeshi and Eleanor Wachtel, but I'd arrange to show up for the better universities.

I'd make time from my busy schedule.

Maybe even a knighthood...how does that work? Sir Doctor Rod Boyle...Or is it Doctor Sir Rod Boyle? Or maybe even Doctor Rod Boyle, Sir! ?
Start with the Doctorate. They don't tend to give out knighthoods on the strength of a single sentence anyways.

Eventually, having postponed and run them around with my busy life and hectic philanthropic commitments I'll have to cancel a couple of speaking engagements to show up and get my honourary doctorate.

I'll be in the auditorium, careful not to get distracted by the row of nubile undergraduates that all sit in the front row clutching my sentence, short skirts and restless legs that cross and uncross themselves again and again...Of course they won't just give me the award, they'll expect some speechifying first and I'll entertain them with the standard drivel..."Me Me Me" I'll begin, then I'll talk about my many struggles and how success will never change me and I'll tell them to never give up on their dreams and carry the torch and make everyone including myself proud...

By this time the leg crossing-uncrossing in the front row will have grown unbearable and I'll borrow the president's hanky to wipe my brow which I blame on the lights..."Sure is hot in here" I'll say and everyone will wonder why the President of the University is laughing....
Afterwards, at the reception those same nubile young academics will come up to me to have me autograph my sentence. "Mr. Boyle" they'll say, "Doctor" I'll correct them, and we'll laugh, and then I'll say "But seriously" and we'll laugh some more...

With my natural charm and ready wit I'll be Invited to be "Poet in Residence" and probably I'll have to work out some sort of time share that allows me to both here and there at the same time on alternate weeks. This because my sentence, which I didn't mention before but probably you knew, it rhymes. Maybe I've put some sort of internal rhyme in it, or maybe it's just the way I left it hang, but it rhymes, and they know it and want me to be their Poet in Residence.

Now despite the fact that I'm famous and a Doctor and a Poet in Residence I wouldn't let my fame change me, except for some obvious things that would need doing right away.

Like my credit card.

Where it says "Your Name Here" it would now have to say "Doctor Your Name Here" and I'd make them spell out the "Doctor", no cheap abbreviations for me.

And I'd have to call all the utility companies, cable, iternet, gas, electric, water, and let them know that I'm now a doctor and could they please spell it out in full on the bills.

My friends, I'll have to make sure that they know to introduce me as "Doctor", at which point I'll interrupt with a modest wave of my hand and say "Don't call me Doctor, please.." and those people I was being introduced to will remark my self effacing good nature. "He's not let it go to his head" they'll say.

Eventually I'll find myself in one of those situations, on a plane or in a dance hall, where somebody will say "Is there a Doctor in the house", and as my lack of knowledge has never been an object (it isn't with real doctor's either) I'll minister finally to their souls, administer the last rites, and when people object that the patient has crossed over, the plane is still going down and is there a pilot in the house - "A DOCTORATE OF LITERATURE" I'll tell them ... "A DOCTORATE OF LITERATURE...!!!"

As soon as I finish this sentence....

Garage Sales - 2011

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 26 April 2011

Hits: 1912

It's been a hopeless winter, and garage sale season is a little late getting underway. But it all starts this Saturday at the Good Samaritan Rummage Sale in Kensington, followed by, well, any number of other sales around and about the city (and here begins the pain, how to be simultaneously at 5 or 6 promising sales as they all start)...at the flea market this past weekend the dealers are discussing it, there's been a dearth of garage sales so far and everyone needs to replenish their stock. Competition will be fierce.

This year I'll be extra early, pack a sleeping bag and a thermos full of coffee, probably I should look for a stove or something so I can make my coffee fresh, there will be an hour or two of waiting in line. But it's all anticipation....