Back on September 23, I posted the lyrics to a song I had written many years ago (circa 1986). Now here is the song itself, which I just had digitized.
Nostalgia
Off to War… and Home Again!
My grandmother (Bubby) worried all through World War Two, while several of her children and their spouses served in the armed forces. I think it’s fitting this year – the 70th anniversary of that terrible war’s end – to pay tribute to them, my brave aunt and uncles.
Time Goes
So I have a milestone birthday coming up next month, as I’ve mentioned before. I am becoming distinctly forlorn over this. I’ve always been super-aware of aging whenever my current decade would crank over to the next. Life has whipped by way too fast for my liking. So I find myself looking at things I wrote years ago and some of it really takes me back… like these lyrics to a song I wrote back in ’86.
Montreal Time Warps for Folkies
If any of you old folkies (i.e. from the early ’60s) are hankerin’ for some sounds that hark back to the good times from yesteryear, look no further. As one who also fondly remembers the popular coffeehouses of that era such as the Finjan, Potpourri, Penelope, The New Penelope, The Fifth Dimension and others, I am happy to tell you that there are at least two venues in Montreal eager to help you reminisce. Check these out.
Legacy From a Dapper Granddad
And what a handsome man he was!
Lazy, Hazy Days of Summer – the Laurentians & Montreal, 1930s
As our summer has inevitably wound down into September, let’s take a last long look (a look of longing?) at these carefree bygone days.
“Stuck” in England
In the fall of 1939, when war broke out in Europe, my Aunt Bertha found herself ‘stuck’ in England, since she couldn’t get passage out to come back home to Montreal. But she made darn good use of her time there…
Summer Fun – 1945-48
Just moseying around in the ol’ family album…
Three Strikes
Facing life with the bases loaded…
My Montreal Then and Now
I’ve got a big birthday coming up. The exact number doesn’t matter, but trust me, it’s big. Put it this way: In the 1950s I was a child, but now… I’m not. So I’m getting contemplative. Here is a wistful vignette of a bustling and burgeoning city, a warm and welcoming place – my Montreal – and how it changed.
Crossed Eyes and Dotted Tees 