Wednesday, April 17, 2013


I have a vivid memory of the first time I heard Fleetwood Mac's Rumours album played. I was a passenger in a friend of a friend's car, driving north on Islington Avenue from Woodbridge to Kleinberg, going to a party in someone's rec room. It was 1977. Last night, at the Air Canada Centre in Toronto, I was transported back to that moment, when Fleetwood Mac sang out their first song of the evening, Second hand news, just as I heard it as the first song on Rumours on that drive. I was spellbound for the rest of the evening. I knew all the lyrics to all the songs on that album, and could easily have sung along last night.

Fleetwood Mac is one of those iconic bands of the 1970's, and my youth. Thirty six years later, we are both sounding great. Their show was fun, entertaining, well thought out, had great visual effects and showed us that they have only become a finer vintage.

While they played Rhiannon, their first hit, the sweet aroma of reefer snuck by me, and their eye catching visuals backing the stage lured me in to their performance, and I was hooked. We heard a smattering from all their albums. Lindsay Buckingham's guitar solo grabbed me — I finally breathed out, when he strung his guitar for the last time. Outstanding! How old is Mick Fleetwood? That man can rock! He was pounding his skins with the passion of a pup still out to prove himself, yet clearly enjoying his role at the helm of this band sporting his black knickers and red shoes. Stevie Nicks' voice was as strong and as identifiable as ever. She was still sporting her black angel look, and as the evening wore on, she donned her trademark top hat for the first of their two encores. Each member was allowed to shine. I was relieving a moment or two along with the rest of this audience.

As my Mom has said, "you need to blow out the cobwebs once in a while," and last night we both did. My Mom and I tapped our toes, bobbed our heads, swayed our shoulders and thoroughly knocked out a mess of cobwebs.

Thank you Fleetwood Mac for providing all that good entertainment.
Don't Stop.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

A Father and a daughter

How do you describe that bond that exists between fathers and daughters?

My Dad died sixteen years ago today, unexpectedly, at the age of 63. I was at his side in Japan when he moved on. It's so weird. One minute they are here, and the next, poof, they aren't. I wondered if his soul was lifting up from his body, looking down at the situation, when the doctor declared him dead.

My Dad and I had your typical roller coaster relationship. When I was small, he was, my male role model — strong and protective, a good provider, had a camera on his shoulder at every event to record our lives, I knew I could count on him, he could build anything and taught me how to ride a bike and to drive stick shift. But he also instilled values in me, that only later I recognized. As I grew up we had our moments, our disagreements, didn't quite see eye to eye on a lot of things, but, he was my Dad, for better and for worse, I accepted him, and I think he did me, in his way.

I miss him, and still think of him often. This is my personal Father's Day. Happy Father's Day Dad.
Love, Kathi