Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Newfoundlanders were created by God to save besotted Ontarians

Correspondent Josie has said, while putting together her Christamas gift list, "Tell me a story."

I was utterly charmed. Does a cat have a tail? Does politically minded TomCat-- who visits here--have a beef against George Bush? Does Ivan have a story?
Well, yes I do, but, as usual, it has to do with being a lunk, punk and drunk.

Like many another lunk, punk and drunk, I went back to the vinyards of an old job where a fine Down-Easter, my fomer boss, greeted me warmly and asked how things were going.
I really think downEasters, especially Newfoundlanders, were sent by God to Canada so they could look after all us fools and drunks.

Not too much had changed in six years; the fine furniture factory was busy and it happened to be a payday.
I was suddenly, somehow, in a parallel universe.
Though just visiting, I sort of lined up anyway, almost by habit "fer to get my pay. "

"What are you doing in the pay line-up? the old foreman wanted to know. "You don't work here any more."
I sniggered a bit. "Just trying to get my groove back. ..Tell you what I tried to do for money yesterday... stuck a wad of chewing gum to the bottom of my sole just in case somebody drops a twenty on the floor of the Tim Hortons...It didn't work.
Down and out in Newmarket."

"Sounds like you got a problem, Trapper," the old boss said, plulling out his wallet and laying a crisp 50-dollar bill in the palm of my shaking hand.
This is the way down-Easters are. They will literally give you the shirt off their backs. And when you try to pay them back, they respond with a goodnatured "f*ck-off."
I hadn't worked in the cabinet maker's shop in years.
Collected my pay anyway.

God does indeed look after fools and drunks.

And now I've got this terrible hangover and the truth has finally hit me.

Oh Rowdyman.

Saved by the Newf.



Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Oh Ivan,

Isn't it amazing how many wonderful people are out there. I am sure it is not just those Newfies, that you are talking about, that are willing to offer their shirts. Just look around, there are many around you; one being Josie. What a wonderful woman to have in your life. Not many people are as rich as she makes you.

I guess I am getting nostalgic on how loving we as humans can be if only we try a little. Sappy old Tara, eh?


ivan@creativewriting.ca said...


This is a cynical age, but I marvel again and again at the goodness of people.
I would say that you are a good person.

the walking man said...

I never though of that gum on the shoe thing, think I'll do it every time I walk into a new doctors office. I may not get rich but at least some of my insurances money will go to clean the carpets.

Let's all move to Newfoundland so we can use the word fuck in all it's forms for every occasion. And get good live music to boot.



ivan@creativewriting.ca said...


Newfoundland is a great place to visit. I love the 17th century by- the- sea.
Lard Liftin' Jeesus!

Squid jiggin' ground.

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