Freddie P's Blog

One of my favourite movies of all time is "The Producers", the 1968 version not the 2005 version. The stage play I saw in New York wasn't too bad either.

The reason I bring this up is because I've got a version of "The Producers" going on in my family right now.

Both my kids decided to follow their old mans lead and pursue the media as a career, but they went to the other side.

Both work in television and both are Producers. If this sounds like a whole lot of braggin' and shit, so be it. I'm proud of the little buggers and it gives a parent a great sense of relief when their kids get on the right path.

My daughter Melanie started a new job yesterday. She's a Producer for the Steven and Chris Show on CBC. It's a great gig that's perfect for her because she's into all the stuff they talk about on the show.

Mel has done well, after a few years as a production assistant at MUCHmore Music and then a stint at Odeon Cineplex she has settled into a great situation.

As for my boy, Danny is Associate Producer / Original Content with The Score sports network.

Danny always had a keen interest in "how stuff works" so needless to say working with today's technology is the perfect place for him.

He gets to do pretty much everything at The Score and he gets to do some travellin' as well.

I'm thrilled that my kids are doing what they want to do. I spent 33 years feeling like I never really had a job and I can only hope they end up the same way.

Bragging? So what!

Category: Family

Here's a great story about my dad that his former neighbour Kelly wrote. It says it all about Dickie!

When we moved to the fertile farm region of Georgian Bay, Ontario, I decided to see if I had a green thumb.

I solicited the help of my retired neighbour, Dick, who seemed to be able to grow anything well. We built 3 raised beds and added the right mixture of soil and manure. He gave me solid start up and maintenance advice and lent me his books on gardening. The best thing he did was tell me 'Don't worry, Kel, it's easy.' (more)

Category: Family

I woke up to birds chirping outside my window in Peterborough this morning and I thought of a conversation I had with my wife and son on the weekend. They love to wake up to this sound, especially in the spring and so do I.

And there's another reason I love the sound of birds in the morning. It reminds me of my dad who passed away three years ago today.

My dad was the bird king. When I was a kid he raised canaries in the basement, and then about 20 years later, he raised them again in his garage in Milton.

Dickie had all kinds of bird stuff. Bird books, bird pictures, a bird clock that chirped a different bird every hour, he made bird houses and bird feeders, and back in the 70's during the CB radio craze his handle was Scarborough Blue Jay.

The bird feeders were fascinating when Dick and June lived in Stayner. Dickie knew what to put in what feeder to attract certain kinds of birds and it was fun to sit there and enjoy the wild variety of birds that inhabit Ontario, sometimes it felt like a freakin' sanctuary.

They say that time heals, and for me it has. When my dad first died it was hard to imagine living the rest of your life without someone who meant so much to you, but as time goes on and we go about our busy lives the hurt turns into a different feeling, feelings of warmth and contentment that come through great memories, like the bird memories.

Dickie lived a great life and was a great father and we had him for close to 83 years.

Everyone should be so lucky.

By the way, for those of you who ask about Junie, and there are many of you, she's doing fine. Still lovin' and laughin and cursin' in Mississauga. She still lives on her own, she still drives and she still walks the dog a couple of times a day.

She's a multi-tasker. She does all of this while desperately missing Dickie.

Category: Family

Fred W. Perrin was born in 1899 and died in 1967, but thanks to the internet some 43 years after his death, I can ask the "world" not to forget.

Whenever Remembrance Day rolls around I think of my grandfather - my mother's father and the man I was named after. He died at 68 year of age, suffering with emphysema caused by an injury in World War 1.

He was only 18 years old when mustard gas was thrown into a trench along the Western Front in Europe. Only 18 years old when the poison gas caused significant damage to his lungs. He survived, but the effects of the gas would take its toll over the next few decades.

All of my memories of Papa include him gasping for air. He couldn't walk far and he had difficulty with stairs. He would be left huffing and puffing and often frustrated. In 1967 he couldn't take it anymore and passed away two days after my 11th birthday.

At the time living that long with his condition was considered surprising, but it wasn't much of an existence. My mom says his last ten years were a battle.

Ironically Papa didn't care much for Remembrance Day. As far as he was concerned what he'd been through is something he'd rather forget than remember, but that was Fred W. Perrin - one of the thousands of teenagers who went to war to preserve what we have today.

Category: Family

Category: Family

Hey asshole
48 hours has come and gone. You going to be be a jerk like you have all summer? If your not going to post anything then get rid of the site.
Troy

I haven't blogged for most of the summer because I simply couldn't find the time. I know what you're thinking, that's a pile of horseshit. What's the big deal sitting your ass down for a few minutes every day and peckin' away at a key board.

You wouldn't think it was a big deal, but when you're kid's getting married, you're trying to take advantage of your tin palace, your house is being renovated and you have a job, it's amazing how quickly a day slips by.

I couldn't never really find the time to muster the necessary concentration that's required to maintain a blog of this quality. You know what I'm sayin?

Not only that, but on those lovely summer nights that I managed to make my way to the tin palace, I didn't have internet access.

And that leads me to an explanation of why I didn't blog about the "trailer" at all this summer.

You see, when I was there, nobody else was. Most weekends me and my sweet were tied to the city for pre-wedding festivities, or we were home stressing over how long it was taking to have the house re-vamped.

Other years, the trailer postings came from the mixture of weekends, friends and booze.

Something always seemed to happen that became worthy of a blog posting. This year there were only two such weekends, but it just so happened that my schedule didn't allow me to blog about them.

So I will now. On the August long weekend the wonderful people who populate the trailer park held an amazing Jack and Jill shower for my precious daughter Melanie and her respectful chosen mate Josh.

It was freakin' crazy.

The whole park got together and created a progressive party with an international theme.

At about four o'clock, our good friend Gus O'Brien arrived at our dock with his pontoon boat decorated in a love boat them. He even had The Love Boat playing on his stereo.

He picked up the love birds along with my wife and me, and my fine son Daniel and his sweet girlfriend Shawna.

Believe me, it's not a case of boring you with the details, I'm not going to give many details because it wouldn't do the event justice. You had to be there. But here's a capsulation.

Our first stop was Italy where our good friends the Kimbers and Groves had decorated their sites like you were somewhere near lake Como in northern Italy. Food, wine and liqueurs.

From there we went to Greece, where our friends Nick and Karen were frying saganaki cheese and serving it with Pita. It was so good it was nuts.

From there it was back on The Love Boat where we visited Brian and Karen Collins site. We like to call it Collin's Cosy Cove.

As we arrived they had a put a sign on their floating raft that said Cozumel. So you know what I'm about to tell ya. The theme was Mexico. We arrived at the dock and were treated to tacos, tequila and treats.

Right next to Collins was Jamaica where our good friends Dan and Jackie, and Darren and Laurie provided Red Stripe Beer and Jamaican patties. Mmm Mmm good.

Back on the "Love Boat" .... Destination Hawaii.

Special friends and neighbours Gerry and Jen, and Dan and Tracey capped off the night with fruit skewers and rum punch. It was great.

The night ended with a super bash at my Tiki Bar. We nearly knocked the dock off its footings with a wild dance and liquorfest. Even my darlin' Delyse was bangin' back the shooters.

Note to those weasels who like to lurk around this website and accuse me of being a trailer trash drunk - I didn't do much to defend myself with this story did I?

The other notable weekend at the trailer this year was for the annual Jeff Laird Memorial Bocce tournament. It was held the weekend of September 11th.

Not much to say here. Fifty participants and I made the semi-finals only to lose to my arch rival Mike Kimber. I launched an impressive comeback to make it close, but in the end, he beat me by three points, 21-18.

Mike went on to lose in the final to upstart, newcomer Jake (forget his last name) but it was another great day in paradise. We had a pot-luck, but very little booze. We were all too tired.

Now, the big event! September 4th was a magical and very emotional day.

If you're a dad whose hasn't had a daughter get married yet, hold onto to your heart because it's something that you really can't put into words.

All the preparations take your mind off the annual event until it's right upon you, and then you wake up the morning of the big day and you turn into a whack job.

Our day was compounded by a weird weather day. We wanted an outdoor ceremony but it didn't look like it was going to happen thanks to the wind, the rain and the cold.

It gets a little stressful looking out the window every five minutes and then having to decide whether to dump the outdoor stuff and hold the ceremony in the reception hall.

We ain't church people.

But wouldn't you know it. As four o'clock approach there was promise in the skies. At three o'clock when Melanie walked down the stairs and I saw her in her wedding dress for the first time, I didn't give a shit if a hurricane hit. It's a sight I'll never forget and admittedly, I lost it a bit. Actually, a lot.

We hopped into the limo and as we approached the venue it stopped raining. As we got out of the limo, the wind died. As Melanie and her bridesmaids adjusted themselves inside the hall, the sun broke through, and when it was time for me to walk Mel through the park, it became a beautiful summers day. It was unbelievable.

Junie says it was Big Dick looking down on his beloved Mel. Usually I don't believe such stuff, but on this day, I bought right into it.

It was a beautiful ceremony and the reception came off without a hitch. The food was good, the spirits were flowing and the dance was great, not to mention the speeches.

I'm very proud of my little girl.... And my son for that matter... they have both grown to be fantastic adults and both haven chose exceptional mates.

Next up, the house renovations.

We should have known, we should have known that the renovations would take a lot longer than the contractors said they would.

Actually, the kitchen guys were great. They were pretty much on time. It was the flooring guy that screwed up our schedule. When he gave us his original quote he said he'd be in and out of the house inside two weeks. It turned out to be seven.

It was the typical scenario. He got the job, quickly moved in and ripped out the old flooring to make sure I couldn't change my mind and then he went into stroker mode.

Don't get me wrong, in the end he did a fabulous job, better than we expected, but holy lord liftin' bejesus Christ, it dragged on and on and on. It was insane.

He held us up so long the painters didn't end up leaving the house until two days before the wedding - out of the gate we thought we'd have at least two weeks. And I'm serious when I say insane.

Before the reno started several people said to me how stressful it can be. I laughed it off thinking how stressful can it be. I don't have to do it. Stress? Over what?

Ha. Believe me, when strange fellas are in your house day after day after day for close to two months, it gets stressful. Especially when your stove is in the living room and your fridge is in the foyer. The laundry was a make-shift kitchen for way too long and I got bloody sick of micro-waved food.

However, in the end, it got done. Not on time, but right on budget and the finished product is very nice.

Other stuff.

I'm going to give you a quick state of the union statement because over the next few days I'm going to get back into the bloggin' big time.

Municipal - All eyes are on Toronto where Rob Ford is stretching his lead in the polls by being a punching bag. The more the other assholes takes shots at him, the more the electorate loves him. It's beautiful.

Provincial - A skunk never loses his stripes. The HST fiasco is so typical of Dalton McLiar. He rejects everything the federal government does, but when it comes to sucking off the HST tit, all of a sudden Dalton loves Stephen. You might want to blame Harper for the HST, but remember, in the end it was Dalton's decision. He bought into a Conservative idea. Prick.

Federal - Stephen Harper continues to steer the country in a level headed, productive and rational manner. Meanwhile, Michael Ignatieff continues his hopeless and awkward quest for power. Dick weed.

Sports - Yes, the Toronto Maple Leafs will finish ahead of the Montreal Canadiens this season and the reasoning is simple. They have more talent.

That's about it kiddies, and to address some of the e-mails I received, let me say this.
No, I am not ill but thanks for asking. I had a thyroid biopsy earlier this summer, but that's precautionary. I'm clean.

I already told you about my colonoscopy, so I don't have to belabor that. I had the snake forced up my ass but it wasn't nearly as bad as some people said it would be.

And on the subject of snakes, I really have to tell you how disappointed I was with some of the ridiculous notes I received from some people regarding my lack of blogging. Downright nasty and cruel.

But I shouldn't be surprised, because I'm assume they come the usual suspects There are a lot of frustrated dick heads out there that love to fling shit at people for no real reason. They like to take a shot, and then, of course, not put their name to it.

To those I say. Bite my clank and call me Larz.

That's about it folks. You're up to date.

I don't like to make out like my welfare is any more important than anyone else's.. but hey, you asked.

Come back and visit often because I promise the posting will pick up.

And by the way, Neighbour John won the hamburger contest. Hands down. And he thanks you for your support.

Category: Family | Friends | Neighbour John | Stuff | The Trailer

I took a couple of days off from the massive responsibility of programming what is the Corus Radio Empire in Peterborough, but let me tell you, a programmer never really rests, we are constantly spinning the radio dial analyzing the competition and comparing product.

Such was the case this morning while sitting in my Brampton office. I happened upon the HTZ-FM morning show out of St. Catherines. It's hosted by a likable fellow named Iron Mike Bennson and he was conducting an interesting poll.

"How long before it's acceptable to fart in front of your mate?" (A great topic by the way)

The calls started to pour in and as you might expect the response was lopsided. Men fart in front of women long before women do in front of men. Ultimately I don't think there was a clear consensus on a time line, but that really didn't matter because it got me to thinking about my little darlin' Delyse.

On June 28, Delyse and I will celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary but we've actually been an item for close to 36 years.

I've never heard her fart. Not once. Not a ripper not a breezer, not even an SBD.

From time to time this comes up in conversation with friends and family and they can't believe it. They can't believe that there hasn't been an incident stretched over a relationship that is now pushing four decades. But there hasn't been.

Not in her sleep, not through accident and not through sickness. I've never heard so much as a "freep" out of this woman. No pop, no poof and definitely no splat.

It's interesting to hear the reaction of people when I tell them about my non-toxic love mate. I can tell some don't believe it, especially those guys who have women who drop bombs all over the place. In some way I think they're jealous because they equate lady farts with respect.

They feel Delyse must respect me a lot more than their wives respect them because she doesn't expose me to her inner workings. Although that's a nice thought, and it plays a major part in this story, it's not the entire reason. Lifestyle is another reason.

Delyse eats well, watches her weight and has the utmost class, and if there's any part of your that thinks she's blowing off steam when I'm not around, I remind you of the sleep factor.

If it was simply a case of having a strong fart trigger, how do you explain that in 36 years not once have I heard her crease one in her sleep?

There is no explanation other than I'm married to a special person with a gastro system that is the envy of all other women. Which brings me to another point; some women get downright nasty when I tell them about Delyse and her shortage of methane.

They don't want to believe it; in fact they refuse to believe it. They intimate that there must be something wrong with her. Oh my, they can be catty.

But what can I say people? It is what it is and my sweet darlin' has never ever let go with a trouser cough in front of the Fred man. It just hasn't happened and as long as it continues I'm fine with it, although I admit it's horribly unfair because I can't make the same claim.

How long was it before I let one go in front of her?

Way back in 1974, so surprised that such a sweet and gorgeous thing would have any interest in me, the first time she kissed me I shit my pants.

Category: Family

Miami, FLA - On a lighter note, everybody in the Miami area thinks by wife is either a Cuban or a Mexican.

Everywhere we go, people look at her a quickly begin speaking Spanish. They assume because of her sharper feaures and darker complexion that she's like them, part of the huge Latin American population in South Florida.

She's not; she was born in South Africa.

A few times yesterday we were walking around, only to have someone start talking to her in Spanish assuming she could retort.

Of course she couldn't, so I had to step in and translate. I got tired of saying it.

She a no speak a the espanyole!

I'm worldly.

Category: Family

This picture of my sweet and I showed up on Facebook, but somebody wrecked it by leaving a Blue Light case in the background. Everybody knows I drink Bud Lite!

I read your blog and wanted to help!
Enjoy
Wendy

And how about this one from Kent.

Category: Family

Huge weekend. The weather wasn't actually too bad, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

Both of my kids made the trek north with their mates this weekend and we were enjoying a nice Saturday afternoon when my daughter's boyfriend Josh nestled in beside me and asked me a question.

Could he marry my daughter?

Wow. Talk about an avalanche of emotions. Josh told he loves Mel, she means everything in the world to him and he'd find it an honour to be part of our family.

It didn't take me long to respond. Delyse and I love the guy and have always felt comfortable while Melanie was with him. I told him parents always have concerns about who their kids end up with, especially fathers with daughters, and in his case, we feel like we've hit the jackpot.

After this noble jesture, Josh and Mel jumped into a paddle boat and set off for a little island on our lake which we've nicknamed Diamond Island. It's nothing more than a big rock but has a steep facing on one side that's great jumping and diving off of.

I spent a good portion of my child-hood on this rock and so did both of my kids. Josh thought it would be the best place possible to get down on one knee and ask my little girl to marry him.

And that's what he did.

Needless to say when the paddle boat touched the dock on the return journey, Melanie was a different person. She got out of the boat, came up onto our deck and called for her mother to come outside.

At that point she announced something that I already knew, her and Josh were engaged.

We had a big group hug and tears were shed as Mel showed everyone her ring and it was at that point that it really hit me. We had reached a huge milestone in our lives. One of our kids was getting married.

Where did the time go? How could this be? It seemed like she was born yesterday, it couldn't be possible that we've reached this point so fast. But we have. And we're extremely happy.

And now we get on with the process of wedding plans. Apparently its going to happen next summer at a place not very far from Diamond Island.

I'll keep you posted.

Category: Family | The Trailer