30 September 2010

Trudeau Redux: Compare and Contrast


John Lennon, Yoko Ono and Pierre Trudeau, Parliament Hill, 23 December 1969.
Chad Kroeger and Stephen Harper, 24 Sussex Drive, 11 April 2010.

Related post:

28 September 2010

Pierre Elliott Trudeau, Ladies' Man



I Never Promised You a Rose Garden:
A Study in Public Seduction
Michelle Le Grand and Allison Fay
Don Mills, ON: Greywood, 1972

It was ten years ago today that Pierre Trudeau died. Does he haunt us still? I suppose so, though his influence has diminished... as has the country's. Let's face it, the man never encountered a reception like this from last week:



Enough.


I Never Promised You a Rose Garden is a sequel of sorts – "a study in public seduction" from the same publisher that four years earlier told us "how pierre elliott trudeau seduced canada with the lights on". Readers of Private Eye will be familiar with the content: a photo with wacky word balloon. This one looks like it could have come from the magazine's 18 December 1970 issue (cliquer pour agrandir).


You get the idea. The picture sets the theme, mixing politics with personality, casting Trudeau as Casanova.


The pseudonymous authors, apparently "two very political and disillusioned housewives", pitch some pretty varied attempts at humour. At times they venture into sensitive territory...


... before descending into jokes one would not dare make today.


There are no knee slappers here, though political types will be interested in the photos, most of which I've not seen elsewhere. Thumbing through the thing I caught myself ignoring the captions, returning in time to catch this:

Poignant and prophetic, n'est ce pas?

Object and Access: A 64-page staple-bound paperback. Ten copies sit on university library shelves, with a further two at Library and Archives Canada and the Toronto Public Library. A half-dozen copies are listed online at between US$4 and US$10. One Winnipeg bookseller has pulled away from the pack, asking US$25 (and adds US$12.25 shipping when three bucks will more than cover it).

Fuddle duddle.

27 September 2010

21 September 2010

When Liberace Winks at Bobby Gimby



When Liberace Winks at Me
Bobby Gimby and Johnny Wayne
Toronto: BMI Canada, 1954

One day I'm arguing with a friend that earlier times weren't necessarily "more innocent times", the next I come across this sheet music in a local shop.

Gimby was the first musician I could name. His "Ca-na-da" took root in my four-year-old brain and, like all good commercial jingles, has proven to be a hardy perennial.

And make no mistake, "Ca-na-da" was a commercial jingle; something to sell the centennial.

"Respectfully dedicated to LIBERACE, America's favorite performer", "When Liberace Winks at Me" is just as catchy. I found it here in this "Liberace Medley". The song begins at 6:49, but you'll want to see the whole thing.


Dear "Fan Club President",
I'm dropping you this line,
I'm sorry to have to tell you
I really must resign.

I've found another idol,
He's as charming as can be,
I really can't describe
The strange effect he has on me

I start to shake,
I start to shiver,
Every fibre in me really starts to quiver.
It's a feeling very close to ecstacy.
That's what happens when Liberace winks at me.

You can't compare his charming manner
With an ordinary Jerry, Joe or Jim.
And when he sits there at the piana
No one can hold a candelabra to him.

I never work,
Just dilly dally,
Since I fell under the spell of this Svengally,
I just sit there spellbound facing my T.V.
That's what happens when Liberace winks at me.

I start to blush,
I start to stammer,
And my pulses start a pounding like a hammer.
I'm bewitched as any fool can plainly see.
That's what happens when Liberace winks at me.

It's really very, very simple,
'cause he makes me feel just like a royal queen.
And when he winks and shows that dimple,
I start to hug and kiss my television screen.

I go beserk,
I start to tingle,
And I'm so gosh darned glad that I'm still single.
When he drops that eyelid, I just shout WOE-EE!!
That's what happens when Liberace winks at me.

I start to whirl,
I'm getting dizzy,
I'm in a haze, I'm in a haze, I'm in a tizzy
I'm a victim of a strange new sorcery.
That's what happens when Liberace winks at me.
International readers and those too young to have been exposed to "Ca-na-da" may be interested in the clip below, which was shot one chilly spring day at Expo 67. A 48-year-old man in robes, dubbed "The Pied Piper of Canada", leading skipping schoolchildren in song...

Seems like a more innocent time.


Trivia: "When Liberace Winks at Me" was one of several songs Gimby wrote with comedian Johnny Wayne (of Wayne and Schuster). The Canadian Encyclopedia tells us that they had their greatest success with something called "The Cricket Song" (1956) , recorded by Ray Bolger.

Q: How many times can I mention Bobby Gimby in one month?
A: Two.

18 September 2010

What About the Children?



Monday's post on Edith Lelean Groves was running long, so I never did get to the drawings that feature in her Everyday Children. Numbering thirty-five in total, they were one reason I'd bought the book in the first place.

Or maybe not.

I was more interested that they'd been selected by Arthur Lismer, and had been produced by the children who'd attended his Saturday class at the Art Gallery of Toronto.



(Those with a keen eye will spot The West Wind by Lismer's friend Tom Thompson.)

The pictures vary wildly and in terms of style and ability. Sadly, not one is credited.


Most have nothing to do with the poems they accompany. One of the few exceptions is this illustration, which appears to have been inspired by "My Upstairs Brother".



There are drawings of dogs, dolls, policemen and young toughs. Some are similar in terms of subject.


Art school survivors will see evidence of either a bad teacher ("Today, children, we will be drawing a girl struggling with a broken umbrella.") or classroom rivalry ("Watch as I put your picture to shame.").

Children, children, Mr Lismer likes both your drawings.

13 September 2010

Hurray for the Crippled Children's Bus!



Everyday Children
Edith Lelean Groves
Toronto: The Committee in Charge of the Edith L. Groves Memorial Fund for Underprivileged Children, 1932

Unearthed during a recent trip to Cambridge, the publisher, "the children of the Saturday classes, Art Gallery of Toronto" and the promise of a biographical sketch by eugenics advocate Helen MacMurchy, CBE, conspired to remove five dollars from my wallet.


Of Edith Lelean Groves, I knew nothing, but was soon set right by Dr MacMurchy, who provides a good amount of detail, beginning with an account of her subject's great-grandfather and his imprisonment during the Napoleonic Wars. I dare say Mrs Groves is a much more admirable figure. She devoted most of her 61 years to the education of children, particularly those we describe today as having "special needs". Nearly a century ago, Mrs Groves fought for their integration into Toronto's public school system. When she succeeded, she turned her attention to providing wheelchair ramps and transportation.


Transportation, Crippled Scholars. Alfred Pearson, 15 April 1926

City of Toronto Archives

Sadly, Mrs Graves wasn't nearly so remarkable as a poet. Everyday Children is everyday poetry. Typical of what was once foisted on young readers, the collection stresses the importance of good manners, study, respect for authority and healthy living:



Still, the reader who sticks with it will find "My Upstairs Brother", about a young girl's relationship with her bedridden older sibling: "His name is Welcome Jack and he's got a twisted back,/ His arms and legs don't seem to want to go." This is followed by "Mended", in which a girl's "queer little mis-shaped limb" is straightened through surgery. These poems and others dealing with "crippled" everyday children are no better, but they do provide interesting and uncommon glimpses of the time.



It's not at all surprising that Everyday Children is forgotten, but what of Mrs Groves? She has no entry in The Canadian Encyclopedia. There was once a school named in her honour, but no more – it's since been renamed Heydon Park Secondary School. Seems no one knows why.


Gray Coach Lines' Crippled Scholars' Service. Alfred Pearson, 20 December 1928.
City of Toronto Archives


Object: A well-bound hardcover printed on very thick paper. My copy lacks the dust jacket by Arthur Lismer – he of the Group of Seven – which the Introduction tells us depicts "little faces of 'Everyday Children' who smile... the result of his gifted pencil."

Access: Everyday Children can be found in seventeen of our universities. Public library users are stuck with a single reference copy housed somewhere in the stacks of the Toronto Public Library. It would seem that this collection of verse enjoyed only one printing. Used copies range from US$15 to US$25, the uppermost price fetching that elusive dust jacket.