Jennifer wrote an article for the Appleton, Wisconsin paper back in Nov.2007 -
(
http://www.corfid.com/vbb/showthread...jennifer+perry )..
She came to Massey in May with her two sons and had the time of her life meeting all the "Net People", seeing a Lightfoot concert at Massey and attending a Pub Jam.. it was a whirlwind couple of days for her and the boys but she has recuperated from it all and has written up her experiences. It was published in the Appleton paper on July 20. Here is the copy she sent me prior to publishing:
It seems like this Internet thing might really be starting to catch on.
Last fall I wrote an article about my fondness for Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot. I wrote it because it pleased me to do so, and that, I thought, would be that.
A few days after the article ran, I received an email from a woman named Char who lives in Toronto and is also mildly interested in Mr. Lightfoot.
And when I say “mildly interested”, I mean that Char is mildly interested in Gordon Lightfoot in the same way that people in Wisconsin are mildly interested in the Packers.
In fact, Char is the widely acknowledged queen of the Lightheads, as Gordon’s fans are known. (I’ve always known what I am; I just didn’t know until recently that the condition has a name.)
Many of the Lightheads reside in cyberspace at a place called corfid.com, and even though I am frighteningly computer-illiterate, I still feel that they have accepted me as one of their own. This, I think, is largely due to Char, a most benevolent sovereign.
Char’s email informed me that the Lightheads would be gathering in May of this year in Toronto for Gordon’s regular series of concerts at Massey Hall. For a Lighthead, this is very much like a trip to Mecca.
And it was happening over Mother’s Day weekend, which pleased my two boys, Matt and Andrew.
“The gift of time”, they said. “What could be better than that?”
Well, when you put it that way, not much.
And I’m sure the thought of an all-expenses paid road trip to Canada and not having to shop for Mother’s Day gifts never even entered their minds.
Really, I’m just happy they’re willing to take me out in public.
Meanwhile, it was announced that Gordon would be coming to the PAC in Appleton on March 30 of this year.
Naturally, my first thought was, “How can I get backstage?”
Because this was GORDON FREAKING LIGHTFOOT, as Char would say, coming to my town, and I decided that I would do whatever I had to do, within reason, up to and including, if necessary, the use of
cleavage.
(As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary, and this is a good thing, as I am ambivalent about the use of
cleavage. Also I fear that mine may be past its expiration date.)
I went to the show with Matt, Andrew, and my friend Jenny.
It was sounding great, I was loving it, and then – even as I write this it’s hard to believe it happened – Gordon Lightfoot mentioned my article from the stage.
I think he might have done some more singing after that, but really, I couldn’t tell you for sure.
After the show we did get to talk to him, and I will tell you that if you ever get the chance to meet someone you have loved and appreciated for almost 40 years, I hope that person is as friendly and gracious as Gordon Lightfoot was that night.
I remember telling him that the boys and I would be coming to Toronto to see him on May 9th, a Friday, and asking him if he could please sing “Don Quixote”, my favorite song, which he hadn’t performed in Appleton.
“I will”, he said, and that is my most indelible memory of that wonderful night.
A little over a month later the boys and I set out for Toronto. Along the way we wanted to visit my niece Callie, a student at the U. of Chicago and one of the boys’ favorite cousins.
As our goal normally is to get through Chicago as quickly as possible, and not to find people therein, we employed the GPS on Andrew’s phone, an ethereal female voice we came to think of as Trixie, our navigator.
And Trixie had her little disembodied hands full, because – and I probably should have mentioned this sooner – I am the world’s worst direction-giver.
“Turn right now!” I would shout.
“Turn now, or turn right?” Andrew asked.
“Recalculating!!!” said Trixie. “You stupid #@*%!”
Okay, I made that last part up. But she was definitely getting a little snippy.
We did find Callie, right where Trixie said she would be. We even found our way out of Chicago, and spent that night in Okemos MI at the home of Callie’s parents.
The next day we left for Toronto around noon, a five-hour drive, so we were told.
Somewhere in eastern Michigan, it occurred to me that it would be a little disappointing not to hear “Don Quixote” that night, and that this was an awfully long way to travel to risk having that happen.
Meanwhile, Trixie was having issues of her own.
I don’t mean that she was having trouble finding our destination in Canada.
Trixie couldn’t find Canada.
This surprised us, because Canada is a rather large country which is really quite hard to miss.
You just go to the end of Michigan and over a bridge, and on the other side of the water is a woman in a little tollbooth-like structure, and she is very interested in what you’ll be doing, how long you’ll be doing it, and whether any firearms will be involved.
Once she is appeased, there is nothing but clean highways, rolling farmland, and beautiful billboard-free vistas until you get to Toronto, and you can tell you’re getting close because the traffic comes to a complete and utter standstill for no apparent reason, though I suspect it has something to do with “kilometers”, of which Canada has a great many.
Massey Hall is a beautiful old building, and there’s nothing better than seeing Gordon Lightfoot there, at home, with a spring in his step and Lightheadedness everywhere you look.
And yes, he sang the song – beautifully. (I think he sang it all four nights, but still.) The memory is intact.
Afterward I found myself at an Irish pub with Char and her daughter, Dan and Nancy from Buffalo, and Dougie, a Toronto resident by way of Belfast.
“Green Bay Packer fan, are ya?” he asked in his lovely brogue when he found out I’m from Wisconsin.
“It’s the law”, I said, and I think Dougie believed me.
The boys found a pub of their own, several in fact, though sadly, they never did find a dartboard. They did encounter bangers and mash, and I know this because of a message Andrew left on my voice mail which began “Mom, the bad news is this is my one phone call…”.
On the return trip I called my mother in Kalamazoo to see if we could stop by (we could.)
I didn’t tell her about the trip in advance because she worries; she doesn’t think I’m old enough to do something like this, a fact my grown sons find hilarious.
Crossing back into the States takes a lot longer than leaving, even though the guard who let us back in didn’t seem at all concerned about firearms.
“I love Canada”, said one boy.
“Me too” said the other.
“You are not on a road”, said Trixie, back in a country she recognized, though apparently not very well.
It may be time for Andrew to upgrade his plan.
Jennifer Perry
JenniferPerry-Appleton Wisc.newspaper article-Massey 2008
