Nursing Igor

She was once the head of Labour and Delivery at North York General Hospital...probably delivered as many, if not more, babies than the doctors.  After finding herself at the epicentre of the SARS crisis, she opted for an early retirement.  Now by this time, Terry had nursed, that includes IV and dialysis procedures, both a beloved cat named Moonie and a great big black dog named Snoop.

 

A revered nurse whose students she trained and colleagues she worked with, keep in touch to this day,  she is my oldest and dearest friend whom I met while working at the Red and White grocery store as high school students more than 40 years ago.  Christmas Eve parties in her parents rec room with her dad tending bar, we dressed alike, wore the same size, dated boys who drove the same sports cars and  marvelled at how much we had/have in common:  one of three sisters; would give birth to one son and inevitably, though we ended up living more than 90 minutes away from each other, would discover we had the same living room carpet and had bought the same dress on sale at Winners.

 

Our lives went separate ways during first marriages and career demands but today we live (part-time for me) four doors down from each other in cottage country. Our sons are grown, we have found our life partners and enjoy paddling down the lake for visits on hot, sunny days and cross-country skiing when the temperature plummets on a gorgeous frozen landscape.

 

We have shared life triumphs and tragedies...she more than I.  There were days when life seemed senseless and almost unbearable.  We propped each other up....and looked for the small joys, when one flew....or rather fell into her life. 

 

A tiny newborn bird, tumbled from its nest, discovered by her son, featherless, near death.  He rushed it to his Mom....the nurse.

 

With her finger nail she pried open its tiny beak, feeding it pureed chicken every 20 minutes around the clock.  She folded the tiny broken creature into a sock, held it to her breast while she watched TV.  Six weeks later Igor regales me by treadmilling on a roll of toilet paper...he/she is a saucy little character playfully landing on our heads and pecking at our watches and rings.  We discover starlings are known for their intelligence; their ability to learn to talk and interact with humans.  Igor flies around the sunroom, and broke free one day when he/she figured out how to open his/her cage door while on the back deck. 

 

Igor, Iggy for short, flew off  to the lilac bushes and had rounded the corner  towards the road; hearts stopped for a few short seconds before he/she flew back to the porch and...back to his/her cage.

 

Terry smiles telling the story and we marvel at this tiny bird brain which isn't so tiny after all , it seems.  For two hours, along with her husband and her dear dad, up for a visit from the nursing home he now calls home, we laugh at the antics of this little spirit.   Life's trials and tribulations and almost overwhelming challenges are forgotten.  Terry says she feels like her old carefree and happy self again. 

 

One day we will learn if Iggy is a boy or a girl.  In the meantime, when you consider starlings can live for 30 years, well that's a lot of smiles and moments of pure, unbridled feathery joy.  And now we marvel at the incredibly unbelievable yet undeniable power of a near broken tiny being to give purpose, offer hope, dry up tears, release us from stresses far greater than we can ever imagine and...make us smile.

 

Medals and Milestones

 

 

There were 11 of us in all.  Sitting four rows from the front, and through the sopping umbrellas, I catch a glimpse of the familiar American Legion cap on one of the veterans.  I stifle a sob in my throat.  It could have been our Dad.  It was our Dad last year.  His name is called and my Mom and I hustle over to join the line of those laying wreaths in memory of those who have fought for our freedom; so many making the ultimate sacrifice.  Major Robert P. Smith, WW2 veteran, U.S. 5th Army, Royal Hamilton Light Infantry Reserve and founding member of the American Legion Post 19 lived a long life.  He was 87 and had been honoured many times for his post war service.  It's another milestone.

Since our Dad passed away five days before Christmas last year, we have soldiered on through all of those difficult milestones without him:  Easter, Fathers' Day, his birthday, Thanksgiving and now possibly the most poignant of all, Remembrance Day.

There is another milestone I'm observing this week.  Five years ago,  I said good-bye to colleagues and viewers who had followed my career, my various news reporting and anchoring positions and work in the community for more than 30 years . At the time it was devastating but the years and life itself  somehow put what we think will be the end of us into perspective.  Maybe it prepared me for what was to come, the tears but also the joys.

My long time friend Rosanne who also lost a job that day posted a beautiful message on Facebook marking our mutual milestone.

5 years ago this past week, a very important door closed on me. What I knew as work was no longer. As difficult as the following months and even a couple of years were with friendships lost, loss of my identity etc. many lessons were learned.
People come and go in life, with those that I no longer am in touch with, I have beautiful memories. For those of you that are still around, I am blessed to call you my friends.
As the saying goes, one door closes another one opens..... I have met wonderful, inspiring people while on this path and chapter in my life.
5 years have now passed and if i can give a little piece of advice for those of you that feel stuck in a situation, move forward and grasp at any positive opportunity that comes along.
It's amazing what you can do, if you only step forward a little and try. It took me almost 30 years to figure that one out! 

 

Like Rosanne I have  embraced all kinds of new opportunities, am still involved in my community and have the best boss in the world:  I only work between rush hours and usually take Fridays, even Mondays off and she lets me say yes or no to new projects.  My pay cheque isn't as regular as I'd like but my schedule allows me to spend more time with my family, friends and one-year-old Millie.  My new boss is me.

 

I like my freedom and to be valued as "me".  I used to think if it didn't happen on TV, it didn't matter. I have since learned that most poignant and life-changing moments unfold far away from microphones and cameras and don't need media to be meaningful (although, granted, the media can certainly help by bringing communities together and sharing the stories of those in need with those in a position to give; a message I will always convey to my students and in my public addresses!) 

 

Like my Dad, I have been honoured over the years with awards and medals.  I felt guilty at the thought of wearing them for I have never been and will never ever reach the stature of our heroes who so deserve them.  But my Dad insisted I do.  He was there, cane in hand, when I was presented most recently with the Order of Ontario. He taught me how to wear those medals proudly, over the heart.  So I wore them, proudly, at his military funeral.  And I wore them this Remembrance Day, by my poppy.  

 

After the cenotaph service, my family visited the Queen's Head Tavern in Burlington where for the past 20 or so years, my Dad met with fellow warriors for a dram of whiskey and a beer, a Bud, in honour of his American birth.  And there at the table where he sat all those years, his dram and beer sat in memorial.  I  learned from one of his many, many soldier friends who greeted us that day that protocol allows immediate family members to wear the medals of a fallen veteran, on the right side.  Next year, we will polish up those medal.  Our Mom will wear them, proudly and I will wear mine proudly too.

 

 

Let's Talk: Is there an app for that?

With conversation a dying art, how do we put the social back into our media?

Written By Connie Smith Illustration By Lisa Pijuan-Nomura


In less than 20 years, the Internet has grown from a scientific experiment involving a handful of visionary researchers to more than 2.4 billion users worldwide.
As a result of the subsequent social media phenomenon, we are now becoming less reliant on the spoken word and interpersonal interaction or "face time." Regardless of the Internet connection, are we in danger, as Albert Einstein and Marshall McLuhan warned so prophetically, of losing the human connection?
We've all seen it: Couples at a romantic restaurant staring not into each other's eyes but their iPhones; employees emailing one another instead of walking to the office next door; young eyes darting to electronic devices on laps under the dinner table.
I must put this on the table right now: I relied on social and electronic media for researching much of this feature. In fact, you will see Facebook comments running along the bottom of this article.
Marie Bountrogianni, former Hamilton MPP, cabinet minister and educational psychologist by profession, is now a social media professor at the Chang School at Ryerson University.
"We are certainly born with the ability to communicate but we also differ in our abilities to communicate," says Bountrogianni. "The use of alternate means of communication, journals and diaries where we write and share our thoughts is not something new."
Bountrogianni is a huge proponent of online learning for its inclusiveness — its ability to transform the lives of people who otherwise would be shut out of an opportunity for higher learning.

I think what social media has done is shed light on something that maybe we've been neglecting for a long time, which is a focus on how to be social, participate in a culture and communicate effectively.

Alexandre Sévigny agrees. He is the director of the Master of Communications Management Program in the Department of Communication Studies and Multimedia at McMaster University.
"Social media and digital communication, smartphones, tablets — all these wonderful things have given us enormous benefits. They've been so empowering for segments of society that were living in isolation in the past…people who have trouble with mobility, people with autism, have found that the Internet is this incredibly liberating medium."
Bountrogianni credits Facebook for influencing change in the provincial government's legislation designed to toughen up restrictions on young drivers. "That was done overnight; and in the Middle East, democracy has been brought about through social media. Dictators can't hide anymore."
Both Bountrogianni and Sévigny, however, acknowledge that criticisms from parents today are justified.
"Just like our parents probably did when we planted ourselves in front of the TV," says Bountrogianni. "The complaint was too much TV and it was often perceived as a babysitter." But on the positive side, Bountrogianni says she learned how to speak English from watching TV because her immigrant parents did not.
Sévigny was a university student himself when the Internet became popular and then, when social media hit, "I remember feeling this surge of hope that this would create more connections between people, more democracy… That has come indeed but it's also made us alone together."
Alone Together: Why We Expect More From Technology and Less From Each Other is the title of a book by MIT's Sherry Turkell, who Sévigny describes as a one-time techno utopianist like himself.
One of the challenges we face now in society, he says, is making sure everyone stays acquainted with real-world communication. "That means nonverbal communication, it means self-presentation and appearance, etiquette, something as simple as how to shake someone's hand with confidence or authority, or how to maintain eye contact." Basically, there's still nothing like being outside with friends at a picnic or playing sports to give you a strong sense of who you are and how best to interact with other people. "The world's your oyster with social media on the one hand but the downside is we've lost touch with ourselves, our bodies."
Richard Worzel of futuresearch.com is an author and speaker who helps corporations and organizations like Coca-Cola, Ford, IBM and the National Research Council plan for the future. Having interviewed him many times, I can attest to his fascination with new age gadgetry. Yet he's just as passionate that it's, "only part of what is involved in communication and yes there is no question in my mind that we are losing some of the skills related to face-to-face communication."
"If you are seated with somebody and you answer a cell phone call, that's considered to be rude," says Worzel. "You are effectively sending the message that the person on the phone is more important than the person who has taken the trouble to be in person with you. That's a definite social gaffe."
Bountrogianni concedes simple etiquette is an issue professionally and personally. "There is a certain casualness that has crept in because of social media that either we have to lighten up a lot as adults or they have to watch their step as young people."
But it's not just manners. "If you're texting or emailing you are using finger/thumb skills rather than voice, vocal expression and facial skills to send a message."
That, Worzel explains, places limitations on your ability to effectively connect with another person.
According to Worzel, only seven percent of information communicated is communicated by the meaning of the word, by the semantics of the word. "The rest of it is by body language, facial expression — even by pheromones and smell. All the subtleties of being in person and all of those are lost in any text interaction." As for those cute little emoticons? "Purely pale imitations of the real thing." He calls it presence or Gestalt, the German word that refers to form, shape or wholeness. "It tells you also subconsciously about their interactions even before you open your mouths and say something and even all that is lost in face-to-face communications done electronically."
This loss of presence, says Sévigny, will lead to a divide between young people who have been exposed to what he calls the the right cultural capital from parents who understand about charisma and manners and charm... "and other kids who maybe have less exposure to that."
Worzel explains that, by using electronic communications and multi-tasking, young children's brains are developing patterns that are different from today's adults.
Younger people then may be able to juggle more balls than older people, "although not perhaps as well as they think they are, as indicated by the number of traffic accidents involving electronic texting and cell phones and so on," Worzel says.
Perhaps the biggest cost in this new hi-tech "alone together" world is a loss of interpersonal sensitivity.
"The black and white aspects of text communication, of electronic communication, generally tends to mean we are more blunt; we are less subtle; we are more confrontational; we are less empathetic," says Worzel. Ultimately, that can lead to misunderstandings, confrontation and acrimony, far more quickly and more easily than in the past.
Could it be that the pendulum will swing back? Sévigny says it already is. "Social media is on its way to becoming more human," he says. Sévigny points to Twitter and Facebook and how we're becom ing more video and audio oriented than print in our social media.
"I think what social media has done is shed light on something that maybe we've been neglecting for a long time, which is a focus on how to be social, participate in a culture [and] communicate effectively."
Worzel uses Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv, one of the most dangerous airports in the world, as an example.
At Ben Gurion, travellers are first stopped at two checkpoints, where guards "read you…smile and say 'good morning' and look into your eyes and see how you react. In their eyes the human empathy factor is far more important than any mechanical or electronic screening can be."
The benefits to our very health and cost of health care could well depend on the human connection.
Worzel believes that "empathy, the ability to have good bedside manner, to understand what's really going on inside the head of a patient, is going to be very important not only for the outcome of the particular patient but in terms of the effectiveness and costeffectiveness of the way we practice medicine. Teaching health care practitioners empathy is going to be a dollars and cents issue, not just a touchy-feeling issue."
The social electronic media is impacting our economy in massive ways, spawning what Sévigny calls a whole new industrial revolution, not to mention a political one. Having consulted on a number of election campaigns, he knows all about the value of interaction between politicians and constituents, "Now a political office without a social media strategy, you might as well just shutter the windows."
But just as it took some time for people to get used to the telephone and the television, Sévigny explains it will take time to "wrap our arms and minds around this new technology, which has made itself absolutely indispensible to us. We've advanced to the next level (beyond displaying images of our outrageous behaviours)…
so we now have social problems like cyber bullying and various forms of misrepresentation and plagiarism. We've left behind selfsabotage now we're into societal challenges." So how do we move forward in this brave new world but at the same time protect and nurture our ability to really connect with one other, to empathize?
Worzel says that being aware is the first step. "Older people see this as a threat in part because it's different from what we grew up with and it's possible that we are overstating the threat and the concerns but it's also possible that we're not. As somebody once said sometimes the sky really is falling."
Ironically, Bountrogianni recently found herself on the receiving end of a lesson on social etiquette, from her daughter of all people.
"On a rare beach vacation, my daughter told me she was going to take that damn Blackberry of mine and throw it in the Mediterranean. 'What is so important that can't wait til later?' That memory is in me and I applaud parents who have rules for their kids."
"You have to be reasonable but…I can't ask that of my kids if mine is on the table. No tech at the table when you are at the dinner or visiting. Put the gadgets away."
Sévigny acknowledges a burgeoning industry to teach people how to participate in this new medium. "We also need to have a greater emphasis on how to actually be a person in a real-world society as well as a person in a virtual society."
Worzel is following the development of a new barrier in faceto- face communications: smartphones that will evolve into computer companions who will screen our phone calls, act as gatekeepers and may actually sense what we are thinking and feeling, even teach us how to behave towards other people. "An app," he chuckles, "to teach you how to empathize!"
But Worzel insists that to truly master interpersonal communications, you need to study with a human being. "I think we still have a role to play for a while, maybe not eventually — but who knows?"
Bountrogianni will tell her social media students, "We don't want to kill it. We just want to control it before it controls us."
A generation ago, another communications professor said, "A typewriter is a means of transcribing thought, not expressing it."
Technology has changed since Marshall McLuhan wrote that but regardless of the medium, let's hope the message still stands.

-as published in the spring 2013 edition of Hamilton Magazine http://www.hamiltonmagazine.com/sitepages/?aid=7696&cn=FEATURES&an=Let's Talk: Is there an app for that?

A New Mom...again!

It was deju vue...all over again, as they say...23 and a half years later!

I will never forget that day back then.  As a TV journalist, I had fearlessly set out in search of prime ministers, TV stars (including Bill Cosby whom we had discovered was secretly playing a game of tennis in town and who made me wait until such game was over before talking to me),  directors (Norman Jewison after church at his Orillia area cottage who was not all that pleased to see me), tornadoes (followed one up hwy 400 to Barrie) and even wayward chimps (see conniesmith.ca website for story of Joe Bananas).  I had gone on the air live from locations all over North America with barely a script in hand, my heart beating so loudly I was afraid it would be picked up by my microphone.

BUT the prospect of heading out to the mall for the first time with my days old baby boy had me in an unparallelled sweat!  It was time.  I couldn't put it off any longer.

-diaper bag filled-check
-baby dressed and fed-check
-load baby into car seat into car-check
-load in stroller- or should this be ahead of load in baby????!!!-check
-change out of pyjamas and apply make-up (for the first time in a while)-check
-worry about how he will handle the car ride-check
-back CAREFULLY out of garage and into traffic-after all, other drivers won't know I have a BABY on board-check
-constantly check on baby, reach back hand to comfort-check
-arrive at destination-check
-unload in reverse order-but what if someone steals baby while I'm opening trunk???-check
-place keys in purse-taking care not to locks keys in car-check
-walk confidentially into mall while breathing deeply to slow my heartbeat-check
-take pride in my beautiful Calvin as admirers gush everywhere I go-check

Fast forward....
 Well the "diaper bag" this time contains pee pads and a leash and instead of a car seat, it's the requisite crate with blanket, treats and chew toys.
My husband and I are sleep-deprived.  We live in track suits and pyjamas under coats and our lives evolve around meal times and elimination.
So it's time for that first road trip...again..AND IT'S EXACTLY THE SAME!  THAT SAME MATERNAL ANGST!

Repeat above checklist....except this time the destination is my Mom's house to help her pack up to move into her new townhouse.  Tethered to my jeans belt loop, Millie delights in frolicking with her canine cousins and I remember something else...how difficult it is to accomplish anything with a little one in tow!

We don't get much done this day but laugh and smile as the puppies entertain us and we reminisce about growing up in the family home over tea around the kitchen table. We will do more packing tomorrow.  For now I will forget about a pressing deadline for an article I'm writing, an upcoming speech or the next work project or committee meeting.  My Millie, just like my Calvin many years ago has given me a gift today...a few moments to stop and embrace the unbridled joy of living in the moment for, as we mothers know, they all grow up so fast...

Final Lessons from My Dad

I could never imagine what it would be like to lose a parent.  My friend Karen and I would talk about it and become so panicked we'd have to re-direct our thoughts and conversation to something mundane like shopping.

Now I know what it's like.  Five days before Christmas; five days before my birthday.  Christmas, birthdays, everything is changed forever.  I've lived long enough and experienced enough to know life is change and with change often comes heartache but also new rituals, new traditions and new beginnings.

I know a lot of new things now.  I know how very important family is.  What would I do without my sisters, their families and my incredible Mom.  I know how comforting true friends are and how little things like a hand-written poem, can mean so much.  I know what a rock and source of strength and love my husband Dave is.  I know how a monumental family crisis brings out the best and the most incredible wisdom in our little ones; the maturity in our youth.  I know what it's like to be comforted in the arms of my son.

There is something else I now know... about our soldiers.  I already knew how they lay their lives on the line for us on the battlefield. My Dad, American-born,  was a World War II veteran who served in Italy and North Africa with the U.S. Army and post war, training young soldiers in unarmed combat as an officer with Royal Hamilton Light Infantry.  My Mom and sisters and I were not a part of that aspect of my Dad's life, other than the occasional parade, visit to the Armouries on James St., or the Royal Hamilton Military Institute where Major Robert Prahm Smith (ret.) was a Past President.

I knew that when we were little, my Dad would make sure senior members of the regiment, like Jimmy Marsh, the photographer at my parents wedding, would be able to attend Mess Dinners.  He would pick them up and drive them back home.  In my Dad's later years, John Tinsley did the same for him:  a wonderful legacy I know the Riley's will continue.

These past several years, I accompanied my Dad to the annual War of 1812 Memorial Services at Smith's Knoll in Stoney Creek, organized by the American Legion Post 18.  My Dad was one of the founding members along with the late Ralph Sazio.  I remember my Dad's photo in the Spectator bending down beside U.S. Civil War hero William Winer Cooke's headstone, discovered during a Decoration Day in Hamilton Cemetery back in the 60's.  Post 18 honoured by Dad two years ago for 50 years of service.  Right up until this past year, I read a poem at the service and took my Dad back to the Legion Hall for lunch afterward.

As a journalist, I often looked to my Dad for story ideas and insights.  In civilian life he was one of Ontario’s most respected marine surveyors, right up until this past spring. The folks at the waterfront nicknamed him “Skipper” and gave him an orange flotation vest in case he fell in. He never did.

Bob Smith found his way into many of my news reports for CHCH-TV, including the Royal Hamilton Military Institute cannon heist.  The antique cannon disappeared when a demo crew torn down the old "Officers Club" at Park and Robinson St. in Hamilton and my Dad led the charge to get it back.  They did and it now resides in its new home on the waterfront at HMCs Star.
So these were the things I knew about my Dad and his military affiliations. 

What I didn't know was how his military community would lift us up and carry us through the difficult journey of my Dad's passing and his final salute.  From RHLI Padre Rev. Kristine Swire to Hon. Col. Tim Hogarth, "Bobby's"  Riley compadres and RHLI Band bugler Matt Minnick who played the Last Post,  to American Legion Chaplain Bruce Lacillade, Chuck Webber, Jerry Plumbley and the legionnaires who presented my Mom with the American flag and formed an honour guard as we exited the chapel...your words, your show of respect and love for my Dad and our family has been the greatest gift of all this Christmas season.

Hamilton's musical treasure and friend to veterans Sarena Paton sang told me she was sorry she never got to sing for my Dad but she did sing for him, at his funeral service, "We'll Meet Again".  And while we don't know where, don't know when, I now know it will happen some sunny day just as I now know that the special bond between our soldiers and their community in times of gentle need is as strong and mighty as in any theatre of war.  Thank you.

(read a story about Maj. Robert P. "Bobby" Smith in "The Fighting Rileys, 150 Years of Service to Canada" by Shelagh Whitaker,  page 402.)

connie smith |

MY DINNER WITH OLIVIA

Olivia Newton-John at CARMEN'S BANQUET CENTRE, Hamilton ON
 photograph by Reg Beaudry

I stood in line in a roomful of fans and VIPs to have my

photo taken with her. After introducing myself and

explaining I was the one who would be interviewing                            

her, she told me she was glad we were doing it this

way instead of a long, boring speech. (As if, for her

adoring fans, watching Olivia Newton-John do or say

anything could be boring!)

How do you prepare for an interview with an icon?

She is arguably one of the most storied recording

artists/actors/activists in the world; star of the most

successful movie musical in history, whose journey

with breast cancer almost 20 years ago spawned a

new direction in music and life, dedicated to helping

people everywhere facing adversity in their lives. It

was this journey that brought Olivia Newton-John to

Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.

So I read a biography on her, scoured websites,

articles, watched her movies and listened to her

albums...well not quite all...there are now

41...counting her latest Christmas album with John

Travolta.

Olivia had sent her Grease co-star and long-time

friend, a text that their 1978 smash hit , “You're the

One That I Want,” had just become the best-selling

duet in pop music history.

Travolta suggested they do an album together in

honour of the occasion. The pair reunited after 30

years to record "This Christmas", with proceeds

benefiting a foundation in aid of children with

disabilities named after John's late son, Jett; the other

to support the Olivia Newton-John Cancer and

Wellness Centre that opened this past summer in

Melbourne, Australia, where the Cambridge,

England-born star grew up.

I was ready and I also had a gift for Olivia; one that

has travelled around the world with me. It is a framed

photo of her father, Brin Newton-John, a wellrespected

professor who appeared on a TV show in

Newcastle, New South Wales back in the 60's. One

of the young cameramen in the photo was my

husband Dave, when he was breaking into the

industry. Dave Wilson became an award-wining

producer and director at CHCH-TV in Hamilton.

When I saw this photo, I knew I had a mission.

Last February, NBN celebrated its 50th anniversary

on the air and alumni from around the world returned

for the celebration.

Quick digression: ONJ's brush with breast cancer

also inspired a new holistic approach to life. She coowns

an award-winning retreat and spa in Byron Bay,

Australia called "Gaia" which means Spirit of Mother

Earth.

Byron Bay was a bit of a trek up the famous Gold

Coast from Newcastle but a perfect chance to visit

Gaia and its famous proprietor. Alas, as it turned out,

a planned meeting and interview was not to be. The

very day and a half set aside for Byron Bay conflicted

with a last minute publicity trip to Europe for Olivia.

Months later, upon word that Olivia was coming to

Carmen's as the special guest at a fundraiser for the

new CIBC Breast Assessment Centre, I reconnected

with Olivia's publicist. Carmen's, host of the

fundraiser, ”Singing a New Tune”, asked me to

conduct a Q & A … and I would finally get to present

that gift!

So I began with thanking Olivia for coming to see

me! (Haha). She loved the photo and our enchanted

chat began.

She learned of her diagnosis with breast cancer the

same weekend her father died. She never asked

“Why me?” “Why not me?” was her response when I

asked how she dealt with the news.

Sitting three down from her at the head table, I

glanced at her as she sipped wine and enjoyed her

meal. Does she watch what she eats, I later asked.

“I believe in moderation”, she replied, “and living well”.

And living well she does these days in Jupiter, Florida

with her second husband John Easterling, owner and

founder of Amazon Herb Company.

There were questions from the audience:

“How hot was John Travolta?” Olivia graciously

referred to the fun they have working together.

I ask, “Is it true you were sewn into those tight black

pants everyday?” “Yes they were before spandex.”

In a tribute to the Pink Ladies of Grease, a Hamilton

Pink Ladies Club donned their satin jackets they

proudly wear for the BrightRun, an annual event in

support of Breast Cancer Research in Greater

Hamilton Today.

Was it also true that early in her career as a young

teen in London, she inadvertently ended up

performing in a strip club? Yup. She sang with a

friend Pat CarrolI and somehow got booked into this

strip club to perform. She laughs, “We weren`t asked

back!”

She talked about the thrill of dancing with Gene Kelly

in “Xanadu” and singing before a TV audience in the

billions during the Sydney Olympics.

As for her other greatest thrill? Olivia's 26 year-old

daughter Chloe is fine... “sorting things out” as she

attempts to follow in her famous mother's singing and

acting footsteps and yes, at a still glamorous 64, she

is looking forward to becoming a grandmother one

day.

Olivia heads back on the road in December to

complete a U.S. tour followed by a U.K. Tour in the

New Year, her first in 30 years to celebrate 40 years in

music. And before every concert she and her crew

will form a spirit circle to express their Grace and

Gratitude, one of the songs she sang that night and

words she now lives by: her “motto”. The other song

she chose to sing was “Magic”.

A fan asks what's her advice to women fighting

breast cancer or any serious challenge today.

Women must empower themselves and put

themselves first, she says and not feel they have to do

it all…please everyone all the time.

A woman Olivia once encountered in a ladies room

after her battle with breast cancer became public, told

her how she had breast cancer 20 years ago and is

fine now. Olivia says that was the moment she knew

she would be fine too. Nearly 20 years later Olivia

Newton-John is very fine indeed.

She refers to the innocent schoolgirl role in the movie

that made her so famous as “Sandy 1” who

transforms into the not-so-innocent ready-to-take-onthe-

world “Sandy 2”. Today “Olivia 2”, stands as a

beacon of hope and wisdom to women travelling that

same path everywhere.

The Carmen's event raised $60,000 for Hamilton's

new CIBC Breast Assessment Centre. Olivia we

love you. We honestly love you.

CONNIE SMITH

is a Hamilton freelance journalist

and part-time media instructor at Mohawk College.

She can be reached on FB, LinkedIn, and

Twitter@TVConnie. conniesmithtoday.blogspot.com.

Find out more about Olivia at olivianewton-john.com.

  

The World's A Kinder Place Tonight

It's been a while since I've been inspired to write.  But something happened today, two things actually, that have raised my spirits and renewed my faith in the next generation.  Most importantly, they made my dad, Maj. Robert P. Smith (ret.), RHLI , a World War II veteran now fighting some significant health battles, smile.

My niece (his granddaughter) invited my dad, along with my mom Audrey, to be the special guests at Burlington's Maplehurst Public School's Remembrance Day Ceremony.   The well-prepared M.C.'s introduced the most poignant Remembrance day video, "A Pittance of Time" by Nova Scotia's Terry Kelly, a wonderful singer-songwriter I had interviewed in the past.  The school choir, immaculately dressed for the occasion, including our nine-year-old Sierra, sang the chorus.  Sierra never took her eyes off the choir leader, concentrating on every word, every note.  She knew this was an important day.  She had just had her ears pierced and wore her "high heels".  When the song ended, with my sister Barbi, her mom, willing back tears, she ran over to my parents and thanked them for coming.

For these children, who knew no more about war than a chapter in their history books or one of those video games, they saw before their very eyes, a real life superhero, a little different from the Hollywood variety.  They thanked my dad, and walked by in awe, mesmerized by his medals, his actual presence.

It was what happened next that broadened his smile even more.  They went for a coffee and something to eat.  It was lunchtime and students from nearby Nelson High School were flooding the coffee shop.  My sister turned toward the door in search of a less crowded venue when someone behind the counter said, "Wait, don't go.  We'll clear you a table." Then two young girls at the front of the line said, "Please take our place."  So with cane in hand, medals shining and legion cap perched atop his head, my dad led my mom and my sister to a table of honour at their neighbourhood Tim Horton's.  By the way his coffee and apple fritter were on the house.

Please take a moment to watch this video and think of my dad and all the super heros who have laid their lives on the line for our freedom...for our country.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=2kX_3y3u5Uo