Lifetime Sentences

By Jim Hagarty

Three weeks ago today I started Lifetime Sentences.

I am having a ball with the thing. For many reasons.

I have had almost 7,000 views in three weeks. I have only 6,437 relatives so I know at least some strangers have wandered my way. Actually, I understand that 7,000 views doesn’t represent 7,000 people. But it appears that at least, I have two or three hundred individual readers checking me out every day. And some are coming back more than once a day. That is my goal. To make this a vibrant site that is updated regularly.

The big reason I like this so much is that it feels like I am back in the newspaper game. I loved working as a reporter on newspapers but even more, as the editor I eventually became. My days were so varied. And I was never stuck just doing one thing. From writing (and reporting – my career was spent on small newspapers), to taking photos and designing pages, the work was interesting. I never watched the clock when I was newspapering. My challenge was to finally go home at night and sometimes I brought work home. I didn’t have to. I wanted to.

The fun for me in newspapers was not only in the variety of tasks but in the challenge I gave myself to try to attract the best writers, photographers and cartoonists I could. At the end of the day, that was my biggest source of satisfaction. I developed what I think was an eye for talent and I loved giving newcomers a start.

So I am taking the same approach with the blog. Reaching out to talented people so that they get exposure and my viewers get a chance to see more than just me blabbing on continuously every day.

One thing I love the blog for is the chance it gives me to offer music. You might know Stratford, Ontario, Canada, as the birthplace of Justin Bieber. But Stratford was a hotbed for the arts long before Justin came along to put us on the map. We were home, for example, to Richard Manuel, a member of The Band. We have produced many others who have had a big impact. And our city of 35,000 has always been a Mecca for singer-songwriters and aspiring bands. Every major musical act since the fifties has played our town and that continues to this day.

In the 1950s, Stratford opened a Shakespearean theatre which is still going gangbusters today. We attract almost a million tourists each summer. And years ago, a summer musical festival was begun to give visitors even more reason to stay. Famous musicians from all over the world in every imaginable musical genre perform at the music festival which continues to grow every year. And the Festival Theatre has attracted many of the world’s greatest actors to its multiple stages now.

So, I want to use Lifetime Sentences to share some of this motherlode of talent we enjoy in Stratford with you. Some artists I feature are friends of mine, some not, or not yet.

But I live in a wonderful place.

I hope you come to think of it that way too.

Thanks for your interest in Lifetime Sentences. It is still in its infancy. I am looking forward to seeing where it goes and I am glad you are along for the ride.

By Jim Hagarty
Here a delightful cut from Folk ‘n’ Western, a CD by singer-songwriter Michael “Earnie” Taylor who wrote I’m Having Dinner With My Wife. Earnie has fun with his music and it always shows. The CD is available in the Corner Store.

I’m Having Dinner With My Wife by Earnie Taylor

By Jim Hagarty
Renowned Terrible Limericker

I know a groundhog named Bert
Who has a nasty allergy to dirt.
He has learned how to climb
And now lives in a pine.
I think he’ll fall out and get hurt.

By Jim Hagarty

Hey Gordie. Thanks for your email asking me how I’m doing.

To be honest, I feel like feces. Never felt worse, in fact.

I was fine on Friday morning but today I am in bed and it’s like the following must have happened to me.

I was out for a walk yesterday and saw a nice horse by the side of the road. I patted it on its rump and it kicked me in the nuts. As I bent over in pain, the nasty critter caught me on the chin with his other hoof and down I went.

A few minutes later, the animal’s owner came along and believing I had been mean to his horse, took out his riding crop and began whipping me with it as I writhed on the ground. He then mounted his steed and rode off, leaving me curled up like a baby in the ditch. The pain caused me to pass out.

When I woke up, two big turkey vultures were sitting on my chest, one pecking at my throat, the other at my eyeballs. As much as that hurt, just getting that close a look at those ugly sons of guns made me very sad.

Just then, a hunter out looking for game spotted the turkeys but didn’t see me and fired off a couple of shots. One bullet pierced my collarbone and lodged in my neck, the other landed in my right shoulder which could have been worse as I am left handed. The only good thing about that was the vultures flew off and I was able to sit up and take stock.

It seemed like only a moment later the pile of two-by-fours came flying off the building supply store truck as it rounded the bend but I didn’t get to watch them for long as they fell on me and completely covered me over. That’s where I thought the story would end but a couple of redneck scavengers came along in their truck that had no doors and started tossing the boards in the back.

When they discovered me, they were alarmed and asked me if I wanted a ride home. I happily said yes and they drove in the direction of my house but when they turned onto my street they were going too fast and I shot out of the doorless cab like a Tiger Woods drive leaving the tee. I fell on the pavement and as they were drinking at the time, they didn’t notice my sudden absence.

I crawled the half-block to my house and was glad that I hadn’t locked it because I didn’t have to fish for keys. But the unlocked door also made the entrance easier for the home invaders I encountered in the living room who, armed with a couple of golf clubs, began thrashing me like they were trying to get the dust out of a carpet.

Finally they left with most of my stuff and at last I was able to bounce downstairs on my swollen butt and drag myself into my bed where I have been ever since.

I might have a fever. I hope I don’t start hallucinating.

Thanks again for asking after me.

And how are you doing?

Jim

By Jim Hagarty
Here is another one of the 12 tracks on Jim Ryan’s CD Snippets of Truth, recorded in 2014. The song is a lively, self-penned tune. Snippets of Truth is available in the Corner Store.

Heart Trouble by Jim Ryan

By Jim Hagarty

Beautiful music is medicine for the soul, to be taken many times per day in copious quantities with no possibilities of overdose and best administered intravenously through small speakers attached to the ears.

In the event symptoms persist, double the dosage.

In an emergency situation, play Vince Gill tunes for one uninterrupted hour.

If there is still no relief, call your doctor, providing your doctor’s surname is either Lennon or McCartney. Best option is a periodic visit with both of them.

And, of course, when all else fails, run immediately to your specialist, Gordon Lightfoot.

Or his colleague, Ann Murray.

Best Wishes and Get Well Soon.

By Jim Hagarty

This is a true story.

It might seem like it wouldn’t be true. But it is.

In 1995, a friend and I were driving along a road in Ireland when it was time to start looking for a B&B for the night. We liked to stay in villages and towns so we’d have somewhere to walk in the evenings after we were settled.

I saw a sign and trying to be helpful, suggested a possible destination.

“What about Tipperary?” I asked.

My friend got out the big road map, spread it across her lap and studied it carefully. And then, in a response that will live on in Hagarty lore for many generations, she replied: “I don’t know. It’s a long way.”

I responded, “It’s a long way to Tipperary?” and a second or two passed before the realization of what she had said washed over her and her face turned redder than a freckled Irish lad’s hair.

Of course, I never remind her of the incident.

Who could be so callous?

By Jim Hagarty

The most ignorant people in our world are not those who cannot read or write or make change for a $20 bill.

The most ignorant people are the ones who can do all those things and yet look down on those who can’t.

The illiterate can be taught to read and write, the numerically challenged, to do math.

Heartless people are a bigger challenge. When a heart hardens, for whatever reason, the formula has yet to be found, the pill to be formulated, the gadget to be devised, the program to be written, to soften up their sensibilities.

Success does not have to warp us. It is a choice.

I have met people, common as the most common street urchin at one stage in their lives, who ended up doing very well, accumulating “riches” beyond what they ever thought possible. Some of them, upon acquiring their wealth, immediately began worrying that some undeserving others were going to come along and take it from them.

I have also encountered “poor” people who have literally, taken me in and fed me, gave me a bed and – the shirt off their back.

There is nothing inherently noble about the poor or the rich.

The only valuable thing any of us has in this world is our heart. It can be as big or as small as we want it to be.

The ushers will now bring around the collection plates.

The sermon has ended. Go in Peace.

By Jim Hagarty

I have always been interested in mythical creatures.

Leprechauns, goblins, vampires, unicorns and whatever else the human imagination has been able to conjure up. I’m sure I’m leaving out a bunch of them. All of them have one thing in common: I have never met any of these beings.

Into that group I would like to toss another, more modern made-up entity: the self-made man.

The self-made man is as much a creation of fantasy as the others listed above. He or she does not exist anywhere in the world and never will, and yet so many people believe in this being. I have read about and even met people who claim to be self-made, but their claims have never been verified and, in fact, are completely bogus.

To begin with, I would like to argue that none of us had anything at all to do with the fact that we are here. Maybe that is an obvious point but a fact nonetheless. So we exist not because of any decision on our part but as a result of actions taken by others on our behalf. Right away, any illusion we are self-made might be a bit strained.

After that, it gets worse. Name one thing you can do that wasn’t taught to you by someone else. Even one thing. You can’t. Even when I write the words “you can’t”, I know that someone taught me the letters that make up those words and then the words themselves and then taught me to type and also how to use a computer.

Everything we do we have been taught to do with a few exceptions being the act of breathing and some other bodily functions. But if no one fed us after we were born, we would not be here. Throw into that equation the dozens of others along the way who have worked to keep us going including doctors and nurses and other specialists.

Now consider the self-made man. As the expression goes today, “He was born on third base and thinks he hit a triple.” He thinks that his current exalted status in the world is entirely due to his superior intelligence and hard work. Oh, he might give a bit of credit to God and in an honest moment, his wife, but he never hesitates to make it clear who deserves all the credit for his amazing success and that person is himself.

There is a woman senator from Massachusetts who someday will probably be president of the United States. In a speech a few years ago she challenged those wealthy business people in her country who have nothing but contempt for anyone who has not rose to their level. So you built a factory, she said. Good for you. And you made a lot of money from the things that factory produced. But the people who built those things were educated not by you but by the American taxpayer and by their parents. The roads leading to your factory and upon which your trucks shipped your goods were financed by taxpayers. Taxpayers also paid for the firefighters who kept your factory from burning down and police officers who prevented it from being robbed and vandalized. Taxpayers also helped you find markets for your goods and in the end, those same people bought the goods your factory produced.

This woman’s name is Elizabeth Warren and I believe her speech can still be found on YouTube. She is an amazing person. In 10 minutes she can speak more truth than 700 Congressmen can manage to come up with in a decade of babbling.

The only sentiment worthy of “successful” people is gratitude for all the help and breaks they have had along the way. Any other attitude is self-congratulatory crap.

So the next time you hear of or read about some haughty jerk who is critical of our “welfare state” or of programs that help the “needy”, think about how “needy” that person has also always been from the day he or she was born and how if it had not been for others, they would have never made it out of the crib.

There is an assault by some of the rich (not all) in North America right now on those in society who have not been so fortunate and fortunate the wealthy certainly have been because luck has a lot to do with it. This campaign is immoral and should be decried at every opportunity.

Without Walter Gretzky and his backyard rink, there is no Wayne Gretzky. Without black street musicians whose music he popularized, there is no Elvis Presley. Without Thomas Edison and Alexander Graham Bell, there is no computer and Internet for me to transmit this writing to you.

Rich people who get it give away their billions or at least put their money to some good use. Those who don’t send out the military to keep those who complain about inequality quiet.

Beware the self-made among us. They not only annoy us, they are a threat not to be taken lightly.

Scientists finally were successful in creating a human being from the ground up and so one day they convened a conference with God to tell Him that He wasn’t needed any more, that they had cracked the code of Creation. God asked them to show Him how they could create a human and so they went outside to gather up some earth to begin the process.

“Not so fast,” said God. “First, get your own dirt!”

By Jim Hagarty
Renowned Terrible Limericker

A girl I have known as my daughter
Did something she shouldn’t have otter.
She made fun of my poem
Now she’ll have to leave home
Without the nice suitcase I bought her.