RV Winter Rambling 2006-07

Shuffle off to Buffalo!
The temperature in Phoenix crested at 89 degrees F (30 degrees C approx) the day before I left for my five-day sojourn to Toronto. I found a really cheap air ticket Phoenix to Buffalo via Cleveland return for $179 Cdn funds, taxes included on Continental Airlines. It would have cost me over $500 Cdn to fly from Vancouver to Toronto.

We settled Fernie and Caesar into an RV Park in Mesa, a suburb of Phoenix for the time I’d be away. He looked forward to daily saunas and whirlpools and felt more secure than having the worry at a casino that he’d be told to move on – we’ve seen that happen. He’s a very competent driver but his navigation abilities are sketchy to say the least.

My son David drove down to Buffalo to retrieve me. There were a trio of reasons that drew me from the summery south into the frigid north. David had landed the key role of Captain Walker in the Scarborough Musical Theatre’s production of the sixties musical ‘Tommy’. It was his first foray back into performing after a ten-year hiatus with family taking precedence in his life. It was also my granddaughter, Myfanwy’s (Myffy) 9th birthday and I’ve always made an effort to be there for her celebrations. Myfanwy is a popular name in Wales (my birth country) and one that my mother professed was her favourite Welsh name – obviously I was almost a Myfanwy. My other granddaughter, Cairo flew in from Vancouver to join us for the family weekend. Do you notice a trend in this generation to choose unusual names for their children?

I had a tight connection in Cleveland (forty minutes with a terminal change) and I was nervous when the plane left Phoenix 35 minutes late. “We’ll try to make up some of the time in the air” announced the pilot. However, the gate attendant warned me I might miss it and I’d have to wait until the following day to get another flight out, as it was the last one of the day. The unusually kind gate clerk managed to move my seat up from the 26th row to the 5th row so I could sprint out on arrival – and I did. I careened down terminal C, veered left down the long escalator, across the tunnel power walking on the moving sidewalk, up the escalator into Terminal D arriving at my gate out of breath with only minutes to spare. I heaved a huge sigh of relief with my remaining gasps. The little 34-passenger commuter plane arrived in Buffalo right on time and David was waiting. It was ‘oh so cold’ in Toronto – with the wind exacerbating the effects but there was little snow and a fairly good forecast for the weekend.

It was just like a camping trip – Myffy, Cairo and I shared Myffy’s bedroom and one evening when no-one else was home we watched ‘chick flicks’ together. It was so much fun with no parents around. I’ve never received so many hugs and such adulation before. We shared whispered secrets such as how irritating mothers are – Grandmas don’t count – we’ve graduated from motherhood. I would lie in my bed late at night and watch the two little angels stretched out beside me, their legs and arms intertwined. I felt I was in my version of heaven. Sunday afternoon, David was doing a matinee performance and Janet was working so we three ‘girls’ went out for lunch and a movie. The only one that neither of the girls had seen was ‘Happy Feet’, an animated musical with a cast of tens of thousands – all penguins, with Robin Williams taking on three of the roles. It was a delightful, heart-warming, toe-tapping, sing-along sort of film. We giggled, laughed out loud and sang along to the popular songs.


My granddaughter, Myfanwy has Cystic Fibrosis, a serious genetic disease that attacks the lungs and the digestive system. She has regular CF checkups every three months at the ‘Sick Children’s Hospital’, which is a world leader in CF research. There’s something about that hospital’s name that troubles me. Myffy was going in sooner this time as she’d had a bit of a cloud in the bottom of her left lung and hopefully it would be cleared. She was feeling well and full of energy so we were optimistic. Her appointment was on her birthday, Friday, February 9th and I jumped at the opportunity of accompanying her father and her to learn a bit more of the disease and what sort of treatment was available.

Myffy marched up to the desk in the pulmonary wing specializing in cystic fibrosis and was immediately recognized. “I see it’s someone’s special day today – Happy birthday Myfanwy” said the friendly clerk. Myffy broke into a wide grin and hopped from one leg to the other with a happy impatience. She’s a very high energy and mature little girl and answered all the questions herself, never looking to her father to respond. The clerk laid out all the tests she’d be having today – blood tests, xrays, bone density, and doctor’s checkup and said “You know where to go?” and Myffy was off and running with us trying to keep up – down three floors, then up two floors, the over to the old building and finally back to the original CF wing. All along the way, people stopped her and said “Hi Myfanwy” or ‘Happy Birthday Myfanwy”. There’s a family atmosphere there that I’ve never experienced before. I was permitted into the examining room for the final checkup and the doctor immediately wished her a Happy Birthday and started questioning her – once again, she answered everything herself. I think they are pleased when a CF child takes on the responsibility of her own disease by understanding it as Myffy does. We were disappointed to hear that the cloud on the lung was still there, but the doctor said that with increased and aggressive physiotherapy it would possibly disappear and they’d give it another two months before they’d intervene. So that was it – 3 or 4 hours had passed and we were just leaving when “Just a minute Myfanwy” a young woman chased down the hall. Come on back – the other doctors want to see you. Back she went into a room full of staff happily greeting her with a giant bag of birthday presents and questions such as ‘Are you having a party?’. The bag was bursting with lovely gifts. What a way to treat a patient.

The Party!


Seventeen chattering nine-year-old girls arrived at the school party room with their Webkinz under their arms. The invitation read “Come and join us for Myffy’s 9th Webkinz birthday party. Bring your Webkinz.”


What are Webkinz? Little stuffed animals, most with a kind of sparse scruffy fur. The owners name each pet, denote its sex and register each one online at the Webkinz website. They receive virtual housing, paraphernalia and food for their WK pets. Sometimes they share access with a friend – often they find out that’s a mistake.
“Lola used up all the food” complained Myffy after giving her friend access. After a dance in the gym under flashing strobe lights, the girls scurried back to crowd around the table where we’d laid out little individual plain cakes, a big bowl of icing, and little bowls of miscellaneous candies. This cake decorating frenzy was an absolute hit – they loved the gummy worms, the iridescent blue fish and the gruesome pink and white false teeth. Some of them piled on as many candies as they could fit on in a haphazard fashion but a few of them designed around a theme in an organized fashion. I totally related to those children.

5:30pm and the gifts had been opened (more Webkinz); parents were back to claim their progeny and we had to drop David off at the theatre, go home to change and be back at the theatre by 7:15 because tonight was our night to see Tommy.


Tommy, Can You Hear Me?

Click here to view a video of the highlights


The theatre is small and they perform almost in the round – no proscenium, so it’s a very intimate setting. Janet and I sat back a bit but the three children of course chose the front row.


Tommy is an odd and tragic piece and can be hard to follow. The theatre musical is very different from the ken Russell movie. But the way I understood this interpretation, it was all in Tommy’s imagination when he was committed to an insane asylum (is that politically correct?). I personally prefer to take it more literally and have his mental illness cured and have him reunite with his parents.

I was a bit nervous for David (AKA Andrew Mitchell), as he hadn’t sung publicly for ten years, but WOW! The uneasiness passed when in his first number his voice soared with resonance and power and he aced the high notes. He was FABULOUS! And so were the other leads. David played Captain Walker, Tommy’s father and his stage wife who was a mirror image of Annette Bening was a seasoned and capable actor with a lovely voice that mixed so well with David’s in their many duets. A bit disconcerting were the clinches, the love scenes and kisses between the two, especially as Janet (David’s real wife) was sitting beside me. She took it in good spirits understanding it was only staged. Both actors who played Tommy were very skilled – the ten-year-old boy playing young Tommy and the experienced professional actor who played grown up Tommy. The next couple of hours went by in a haze of the music, the story and my amazement and pride that my son was such a STAR!

We celebrated after with a late dinner and a wonderful bottle of Pinot Noir. The children loved the play and had so many questions about it. They all decided David should be the next Canadian Idol even though he’s forty years old.

Paging Mr. Kumar…..
Cairo at eleven years old flew out from Vancouver as an ‘unaccompanied minor’ so when it was time to go home on Sunday evening, David drove us to the airport but as the airline staff only allowed one escort to accompany Cairo to the gate and wait with her, David went off to have a coffee somewhere and we arranged he’d pick me up outside after her flight left.

I noticed the desk clerk paging a customer, a Mr. Kumar after the flight was loaded but I only really paid attention about the third call. Mr. Kumar didn’t ever show up and so naturally that meant for security purposes they had to offload his luggage – actually, all the luggage was taken back to the terminal and eventually reloaded when they found Kumar’s. I was hating this phantom Kumar as the time ticked on and I couldn’t leave until the plane backed out.

I approached the desk and asked the clerk how long it would be and she tried to soothe me with ‘anytime now’. A small bespectacled nerdish Asian man nosily approached me and snappily asked ‘Why are you watching that plane?”
I took offence to his questioning but replied just as snappily “I have a child aboard”. My manner took him aback and he then opened his overcoat to show me his photo ID hanging around his neck – he was a security agent. His approach changed and he asked pleasantly to see my permission slip. I, of course couldn’t find it – I did eventually but I got a bit flustered until I did. He then went on to appease me and explained how it’s his job to stay with a flight until it leaves. He lingers unobtrusively in the background, watching and listening. He didn’t have a good answer though when I asked him what could have happened to Mr. Kumar.
“Maybe he got sick”
“Maybe he didn’t understand”
It doesn’t make sense to me that someone would check baggage and not show up if they’re on the ‘up and up’.
He went on to say, “I’ve probably watched at least 300 Westjet departures and we’ve never had to offload baggage before”. That really made me suspicious but I was tremendously relieved that they got the luggage off and the plane finally pulled out an hour late.

Feb 12/07
Home is where the heart is…….
And my heart is in Phoenix - - - - temporarily. Fernie and I have been apart for five days and that’s enough. I’m not happy being away from him any longer.

We awoke to a clear and ‘not-too-cold’ day. David drove me to Buffalo, a couple of hours drive from Toronto. The weather was good; it was after rush hour so the traffic was light; we had lots of time; so I didn’t expect any problems.

There was no line-up at the Niagara Falls border crossing – everything was going so well.
“Where are you going?” the female border officer asked in an officious tone.
“I’m taking my mother to the Buffalo Airport” answered David.
I continued explaining that my husband was in Phoenix in our RV.
“I need to see your return air ticket”
“No, no, I’ll be driving home to Canada in my motorhome.”
“Tsk, Tsk – the rule clearly states that you MUST have a return ticket – see, we Americans have a BIG problem with illegal immigrants. Florida is full of them and I’m not just talking about them Hispanics. It’s the Canadians too – they come and they don’t go home – we can’t allow it. They use our country and put nothing back”
I controlled my anger – that would only get me tossed out of the USA for sure. Another guard had joined her by now and she muttered under her breath to him “Do you think I should send her inside?” She looked at me and said, “If I send you in, they sure won’t let you through”.
“But I think I believe her” she said to the other officer “but if I send her in they won’t let her enter the US”.
I was getting so nervous by then wondering what I’d do. I interjected “What should I do in the future to properly prepare for such a case?” trying to soften the mood and show my serious concern for the security of the country – in other words, ‘I was sucking up’.
“We’ll let you through this time” she finally said, handing me back my tickets and passport and we vamoosed outa’ there. Phew!

I had a couple of hours to while away at the Buffalo airport, so I checked out the shops. I found a couple of bargains at one, a silver evening purse for $10 marked down from $40 and a really nice faux Pashmina for $10 – I couldn’t resist. The shop was dead quiet and the clerks were in a chatty mood. The headlines on all of the ‘gossip rags’ at the check stand blazed with the latest news on Anna Nicole Smith’s demise and when Janie the cashier noticed my interest, she interjected “I stayed at the same hotel as the one she died in – just last month I was there”. I showed interest and she continued “it’s real spooky, isn’t it – do you really think it was an accident?”. The other clerk chimed in “No, it’s murder – out and out – and you mark my words, that lawyer of hers is going to be found guilty of it”. I was a bit befuddled because I obviously hadn’t kept up on all the latest news. As I left their shop, I could still hear them debating who killed her and was her son also murdered and who is the baby’s father………..

Everything else was smooth; just a slight delay out of Cleveland for de-icing and…….
Hello Phoenix!

posted by O'Leary @ 10:04 AM