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Canada 150

My parents emigrated from Hungary to Canada in 1956; it was a long, arduous trip via ship and while they were leaving difficult times in Hungary, they were still unsure and nervous about what was ahead, especially my mom. The original plan was to head to the U.S., likely Seattle, where my dad could have accepted a job at Boeing. But when they arrived, the lineup to apply to the U.S. was long and my dad’s patience was not, so Canada it was! 😂 

I know, at times, my mom gets homesick for Hungary, but I’ll be forever grateful that they ended up in this big, beautiful, welcoming place. 

Canada is home. Canada is my home. 
Happy Canada Day, my fellow Canucks!!

#Canada150 🇨🇦❤️🇨🇦

With you every step of the way…

I had headed out to make my way to the Women’s March on Washington-Vancouver…didn’t realize that I didn’t have my transit pass until the bus pulled up (what dolt!); came back to get the pass and stomach started acting up (and I would have been late to the rally anyway) so regrettably, I won’t be participating in Vancouver’s march today.


But I’m with my pals in solidarity in California, Boston, Washington, New York, New Jersey, Chicago, Morocco and elsewhere who are, simply put, standing up for basic human rights and who don’t want to see their country or this world take a step back because of misogyny, racism, horrible legislation, a basic lack of human empathy or social status.

While I’m loathe to give Donald Trump credit for anything, he looks to have been a catalyst to awaken the beast in many of us (in my 53 years of existence on this planet, I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never really thought about participating in marches and rallies before), and I will support my friends south of the border and will continue to help them to get their voices heard, and will do the same here should Canada ever head in a similar direction or greatly disappoint me.

March proudly ladies (and gents)…and know that I am with you in spirit every step of the way.


A Snowy Day and the Kindness of Strangers

What a commute home…snowed all day (and if you know anything about the greater Vancouver area, that’s pretty much a disaster) so I left the office a few minutes earlier than usual to try and beat the rush. SkyTrain was no problem, got to my bus loop which is normally a 12 minute trip to my home, waited there over an hour only to learn no bus would be coming for a while cuz they were all stuck on hills in the snow.

Enter Rudy, a lovely man who was waiting at the loop for his wife to arrive by train, who offered me and another stranded passenger a ride home after we had decided to try and catch a cab and split the cost but we couldn’t get through to the cab company.

Two and a half hours after leaving work I finally got home (a trip that normally takes 30 minutes total), soaking wet and cold but I can’t complain. Rudy wouldn’t accept any money for his trouble and as he was helping Anja, my fellow stranded passenger get out of the car, I told his wife that her husband is a saint…she agreed. “A rare breed” she added.

Rudy, I’m not sure if our paths will ever cross again, but you are a prince among men, and you have my sincerest gratitude.


America was already pretty great…

Seeing a friend on Facebook say that she felt so disgusted by the outcome of the election that she had to lower and take down her American flag shook me a little, even as a Canadian. I understand the sentiment, the emotional blow that this is for many of my friends, and as a Canadian, I too, am stunned. I do, however, hope that someday soon she’ll be able to proudly fly her flag again. Countries have flaws, but make no mistake there was no need to make America great again…it was already pretty great.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I fear for what’s ahead. It pains me to know that the first black President will have to transfer the Presidency to someone who was endorsed by the KKK; I can’t wrap my head around that and I doubt I ever will.  I can’t wrap my head around friends who are currently in the US military or government agencies and what they might be feeling about their soon to be new Commander in Chief. My hope is that this will galvanize those who are against bigotry, against hate, who are for women’s rights, LGBT rights and human rights to push back, to make sure that no one is left behind.

I know, who cares what a Canadian thinks (I’ve faced a lot of that during this election campaign and if you’re about to spew the same nonsense, save it) but I can’t endorse or applaud the new President-Elect…his campaign and the way he went about it goes against everything I believe in. I will however, support my friends who are angry, who are hurting and who right now, don’t feel they have a lot of hope.  Do not give up now my US friends…your biggest fight is yet to come.

#neverTrump #lovetrumpshate #WTF

Meeting “The Boss”

Let’s get this out-of-the-way right off the top…I realize I’m 53 years old, long past the age some would say where meeting your musical idols, if even possible, should be out of your system.

But Bruce Springsteen is more than just a musical idol to some, myself included.  He’s a life’s soundtrack, a jumping off and a safe place to land point when life isn’t as kind or as fair as we’d like it to be. He’s authentic, he’s a storyteller, he’s passionate and genuine, and he’s responsible for a community of fans who have formed lasting friendships all over the world. 

So when the opportunity arose to have a chance to meet Bruce during his “Born to Run” book tour, I jumped at it. As one of the lucky 1,200 who snagged a ticket for his appearance in Seattle, I counted down the days, practising (sort of) what I would say, thinking far too long about what I would wear, and hoping upon hope that I wouldn’t:

  1. trip as I stepped up to meet him;
  2. faint; or,
  3. throw up on his shoes.

Thankfully, I did none of the above. 

The Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle hosted the event and couldn’t have done anything better in my opinion. It was so extremely well-organized that I secretly wished they could run every GA lottery line from now to infinity. The atmosphere in line was fun, people were excited telling their Springsteen stories, and as the line moved inside, Elliott Bay took over with cute, albeit stomach flipping reminders, that we were getting closer and closer to our “moment”. 

I had hoped to get a couple of candid photos of my friends Nic and Kathy ahead of me (who, by the way, I may have never met if it weren’t for Bruce), but it all happened so quickly that by the time I had given my phone to the EB staffer and reached for my camera, I was next in line to meet him. He reached out his hand, but I motioned for a hug, quietly saying “I think I need a hug instead”. He kindly obliged, with a quick peck on the cheek (WHAT?!?!) and at that moment, with direct eye contact (he made a point of it), I had my chance to thank him for doing this, for coming out West and for giving us all such an incredible gift. He replied “awww, thank you darlin’” and after another quick hug, I picked up my autographed book and made my way, slowly, out of the store. Floating.

“They”, whoever “they” are, say you should never meet your idols. “They” were wrong. 

I don’t know if Bruce will ever truly understand what a gift he has given his fans, this fan, this 53-year-old fan from Vancouver, BC, who as a 21-year-old saw her first Springsteen concert on October 15, 1984 at the Pacific Coliseum in Vancouver, from row 14 center on the floor, and who came away that night transformed…”I got it”.  Thirty-two years and 27 shows later (with hopefully more to come), I could never repay him for the friendships he’s given me, but on Saturday, October 1, 2016, I was at least able to say thanks.  

Now…I’ve a got a book to read.


Goodnight sweet Prince…

Purple Rain set the world on fire, but Prince was more than just that movie or that album, and while I may be slightly more than a casual fan, by no means did I know his entire catalogue or deeper cuts. I consider myself lucky to have seen him in concert a couple of times, including a very intimate show at the Vogue Theatre in Vancouver back in 2013, which admittedly wasn’t my favourite show for a few reasons…unimportant now. But looking back now as I try to absorb the news of his death today, I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity to see his genius at work.

His performance of Purple Rain at the 1985 American Music Awards is the first thing I watched when I got home from work today, and is arguably one of the best performances I have ever seen on an awards show; to this day, it never ceases to give me goosebumps.

Goodnight sweet Prince, you were a guitar God, magnificently eccentric and one of a kind.

“Springsteen in Seattle” 03/24/16

What a show. Almost 4 hours of pure joy! For me, one of the best I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a few. It was controlled but loose, static but spontaneous, if that makes any sense. LOL

Bruce’s voice was incredible, and after messing up early on on Crush on You I believe, they just seemed looser, and fed off the crowd more and more. He came to the back 3-4 times (we were in the pit, back rail), picked the majority of signs from there – there was a sign for Incident, but sadly he didn’t take it). And our friend Dennis even danced with Bruce! Was awesome!!

And c’mon, Eddie fucking Vedder joining in on Bobby Jean?!? 😎  My friend Nic and I screamed and jumped up and down like 12 year old girls when Eddie came out. LMAO!

What a special night…glad I made the short trek from Vancouver. If you get the chance to see a show, especial this tour celebrating The River album, go! Ya never know how long this train will be running.

Music is good for my soul.  Bruce and the E Street Band even moreso.  #TheRiverTour2016Seattle

A link to my pics is here.

Canada’s Heroes

I’m not sure why I was so affected by Nathan Cirillo’s death, after all, Canada has lost many service-men and women over the years, including just two days prior with the deliberate hit and run attack on Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent. While every loss should be mourned, somehow this senseless attack on Cpl. Cirillo at the War Memorial in Ottawa and at Parliament Hill was like a direct hit to all of us.

I was able to listen in to just a small portion of the funeral this morning and was struck with what a sense of loss this really was for not only his family (a sad, unimagined loss), but also to this country. I hope it will spark renewed support of our troops, and of all our men and women in uniform, past and present. I hope we begin to treat our veterans with even more respect and dignity than we already do (and sometimes don’t do). It’s the very least we owe them.

Rest in peace Cpl. Cirillo and Warrant Officer Vincent; with much gratitude, thank you for your service.

Canada says goodbye

30 Years Ago Tonight…

30 years ago tonight, on October 15, 1984, the Born in the USA tour rolled into Vancouver and my musical landscape was forever changed as I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band live for the first time.

From my centre section, row 14 on the floor seat at the Pacific Coliseum in Vancouver, BC, it was like nothing I had ever seen before, and to this day, no one IMO puts on a show like Springsteen. Twenty-four shows later, from Vancouver to New Jersey, Buffalo to LA, including two surprise appearances at Light of Day, I’m grateful for the music and especially grateful for the friends I’ve made along the way.

Until the next tour, “no retreat baby, no surrender”. #BiTUSA30 #Brucebuds #EStreetNation #NFS

Sad Anniversaries

A year ago this week, my family was rocked with the news that my oldest brother Andy had passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. While it sometimes felt like the longest year, the shock of it all still resonates like it was yesterday.

I’d be lying if I said the pain had subsided because it hasn’t, but with each new day, you learn to cope a little better, and in the end, you hope that the memories, the good, fun, silly memories, will surpass the sadness. I hope and pray that my mom continues to be the strong woman she always has been even though no parent, at any age, should ever have to say goodbye to their child; there’s a sadness that I’m afraid probably will never go away for her. I hope and pray that my brother Peter, after time, will be able to erase the images that I know remain. I especially hope and pray that his daughters continue to pursue their dreams in the face of all their sadness; in the past year, one has graduated from University while the other received her Masters Degree and as each milestone passes, I know he is proudly smiling down at them.

How I wish I could turn back the clock to August 4, 2013. You’re missing, Andy. Everyday.