Sunday, May 1, 2022

Guy Lafleur and Flossie Lewis: masters of their domains

Ruth sent me this, about Flossie Lewis, and it's gorgeous, brought tears to my eyes. The importance of a good teacher with a wise, good soul, of keeping a sense of humour and perspective, and of being able to say thank you before it's too late.

Flossie made me smile. Many have noted that when I'm setting out somewhere in a car as a passenger, I want to know our route and immediately correct it. We should be going THIS way, faster, more direct, better! I've always attributed this trait to my birth in New York; all my relatives there are the same. And now I know it's true. Route-directing bossiness is a Jewish New Yorker gene.

I love that this entire country is in a paroxysm of grief about the great Guy Lafleur's death. As it should be. I'm no hockey fan, but in 1979, I was working at Montreal's Centaur Theatre when the Artistic Director, Maurice Podbrey, told me there was something I had to see. That night he took me to the Forum to watch the Habs, and there I saw a spectacular athlete with blonde hair flowing out behind him - no helmet for Guy - soaring with impossible speed and grace up and down the ice. It was as mesmerizing as the time I watched the prima ballerina Suzanne Farrell in London, clear that here was a master, I would never see better. Unforgettable. Thank you, Maurice, and thank you, Guy.

For today's pleasure - it was so grey and wet today - here's a sleeping pup who already lives in our hearts.

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