#1099: “Can you play it a little louder?” – An Uncle Paul Story (aka “Big Bad Bill Is Sweet William Now”)
In the late 80s, I was starting to fill in my Van Halen collection thanks to the generosity of family, and the Columbia House Music Club. Diver Down turned out to be a favourite because of the cover songs: this was an album that parents and family would let me play in the car, because they knew the songs and they were not too too heavy!
Any time I found a Van Halen song that I thought the older generation would swing to, I would proclaim: “I found another one!”
“Why is the band called Van Halen when the singer is named David Lee Roth?” my mom asked.
“Because there are two Van Halens in the band and only one Lee Roth,” I answered simply.
“Van Halen? Sounds like some kind of tropical disease,” deadpanned my dad once upon a time.
But my family and especially my uncle liked enough of the songs:
“Pretty Woman”
“Dancing in the Streets”
“Happy Trails”
“Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)”
They really, really liked “Big Bad Bill”. Especially the sweet, smooth clarinet melodies of Jan Van Halen. The tone! So full. I don’t think they ever heard the clarinet played with the speed of Jan Van Halen before. Diver Down was my pathway to having my music played in the car stereo. Uncle really liked the upbeat sounds of these Van Halen covers. Everybody seemed to like Roth. I couldn’t get them into Hagar, even with ballads like “Give To Live”. Uncle wasn’t into ballads. (I should have tried “I Can’t Drive 55”.) He always wanted something with a good tempo. I have more stories about this, but today’s is about the mighty VH.
“Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)” was the one song everyone universally agreed on. It was so different from anything in the mainstream. It had a vintage country shuffle born from the 1920s, and of course that clarinet. David Lee Roth hammed up the vocals, at his Vaudeville best, and Uncle Paul ate it up. And then he said the magic words: “Can you play it a little louder?” The one phrase that no adult ever uttered: “Can you play it a little louder?” Uncle Paul was the only one.
What kid wouldn’t dive for the volume knob when an adult asked them to?
“If it’s too loud, you’re too old,” goes the saying. Uncle Paul was never too old.
We loved Uncle Paul. It was he that bridged the two generations. He was an adult, but he was welcome to hang with the kids. He was part of both groups. Not very families has a member who fills that role. We did — and I am so happy we had that. Our childhoods were so much richer for it.
Miss you Uncle Paul.
From Wikipedia:
“Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)” is a song with music by Milton Ager and lyrics by Jack Yellen, written in 1924. The song became a vocal hit for Margaret Young accompanied by Rube Bloom, and an instrumental hit for the Don Clark Orchestra.
The song has also been recorded by Ernest Hare (1924), Billy Murray (1924), Clementine Smith (1924), Emmett Miller (1929), Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra (1940), Peggy Lee (1962), Merle Haggard (1973), Ry Cooder (1978), Leon Redbone (1978), Van Halen (1982) and others[4] and has been a popular song in barbershop quartet and chorus competitions.
The lyrics describe a man “in the town of Louisville…” who was once a fearsome and rough character known for getting into fights, who, after getting married, becomes a peaceable person who devotes his time to domestic activities such as washing dishes and mopping the floor. He was “Stronger than Samson I declare, til the brown skinned woman, bobbed his hair.”
RECORD STORE TALES #1098: TodayI Feel Very Special – An Uncle Paul Story
Today we lay my Uncle Paul to rest. I learned something about him yesterday that I never really realized before.
Sunday was the visitation. These are always a storm of mixed feelings. You’re sad, you’re exhausted, and there are dozens of people to meet. It was wonderful to hear so many people say loving things about my dear uncle. He was clearly well liked by his friends and colleagues. There were a lot of happy memories shared, introductions made, and friends to catch up with.
I was happy to see two of my best friends in the world after long absences: the legendary Bob Schipper and the beloved Peter Cavan with his sister Joanne. I have not seen any of them since, well, the last funerals. We are all a little older now, and time has taken its toll, but the faces were the same. It is good to know that my uncle had such an impact on my friends that they would drive to Stratford to honour a man they were not related to. That’s just how my uncle was. I heard lots of the same words today, over and over: kind, thoughtful, attentive, caring, warm.
The thing that I did not expect to learn was a story repeated twice by two different co-workers of his. They both said that he spoke of my sister and I fondly, all the time. All the time, as if we were his own kids.
I knew that he considered us like his own, but I didn’t know how he spoke of us so often. He had pictures of us in his office along with other family photos. He must have said some pretty amazing things because the two co-workers we met specially wanted to tell us this about him. I really did not know.
He always took interest in what we were doing and wanted to know what games we were playing and what music we were listening to. He liked fast songs about cars. I know I played “Slick Black Cadillac” by Quiet Riot for him when I was just a grade school kid. I hope he liked it.
Thank you Uncle Paul. We say goodbye today but the stories will live on forever.
First of all: congrats to John of 2loud20ldmusic for making it to the final Kiss show. No surprises in the setlist; just the same songs. They did a Q&A featuring, most notably, Desmond Child. After all was said and done and Kiss finally played the last show of their last tour…now we have the Kiss Avatars.
We knew Kiss would continue in some way. I predicted a “Kiss II” kind of lineup a few years ago. What we are getting is so so so much worse.
These new digital Kiss “avatars” are eight feet tall and animated, composed of pixels and lights. They are inspired by the ABBA Voyage show. Both shows are produced by a company called Pophouse.
It is not yet known where or when we will see the Kiss Avatars next. But we will.
Me, I’ll be waiting patiently for a 50th anniversary box set of the debut album, or Hotter Than Hell, or a 40th anniversary box set of Animalize. I won’t pay to see avatars, of anyone, anywhere. Except maybe the blue kind if the third movie doesn’t suck.
Metallica deep cuts? What are the rules then? Well, rules didn’t matter at the end of the day; we just picked a bunch of tunes we liked a lot. Your panel was:
Of course, Mike and the Mad Metal Man (Harrison Kopptulu)
And a special guest list from Uncle Meat himself.
We had some brilliant thrashers, a few curveballs…and definitely a couple surprises. I feel everyone defended their choices ably, however I was the recipient of a bit of roasting in the comments section. Repeatedly. Did I deserve it? Probably.
We also took an “Ask Harrison” question from Peter Kerr of Rock Daydream Nation, and did some very cool unboxings. There was a bit of “repetition” tonight, but a good time was had by all. Thank you for watching.
A week off next week — super secret regal recording with Peter Kerr instead! We’ll be back December 15.
GRAB A STACK OF ROCK With Mike and the Mad Metal Man
Episode 43: Top 5 METALLICA Deep Cuts
It is finally time to do Metallica some Justice!
We planned to do a Metallica show back on May 5, but regular readers know what happened that day. I had to cancel, and deal with a former co-host instead. There always seems to be something getting in the way of Metallica. This week we lost my dear Uncle Paul, but the show will go on, and I will pay tribute to this great man on Friday night.
Cinco de Listo is back! We wait with baited (Motor)breath to see what Top Five Deep Cuts our expert panel will be presenting this time! On hand will be:
Of course, Mike and the Mad Metal Man (Harrison Kopptulu)
Plus a special guest list. A Meaty list.
We are going simple with the rules. A “deep cut” in this case simply means a non-single. There will be lots of complaints I’m sure, but let’s focus on the great songs instead! Hopefully we will name some tunes you absolutely need to hear.
Will Justice be done? Our Merry Band of Metal Fans will do out best tonight at 8:00 PM sharp, Eastern Standard Time.
A week off next week — super secret regal recording with Peter Kerr instead! We’ll be back December 15.
LIVE Friday Dec 1 at 8:00 P.M. E.S.T. / 9:00 P.M. Atlantic. Enjoy onYouTube or onFacebook!
SAVATAGE! This Florida metal band reigned from 1979 to 2002, and is now back ready to unleash a new album called Curtain Call! They never received the recognition they deserved over the course of 12 mostly excellent albums. Let’s fix that here and now!
We begin our story with tragedy, but also triumph. Lead guitarist Criss Oliva was killed by a drunk driver, almost ending the band permanently, and shattering the soul of his brother Jon. Jon Oliva was not even a member of the band anymore, having abdicated the mountain king throne to new singer Zack Stevens a year prior. Undaunted, Oliva wrote and recorded almost all the instruments on the next Savatage album Handful of Rain. Even though bassist Johnny Lee Middleton and drummer Steve “Doc” Wacholz are pictured inside, they did not play. Jon did. Joining him on lead guitar was former Testament master-shredder Alex Skolnick. An immensely powerful team up. They produced a somber album, but not without power and thrills. The title track, available as a 5:25 extended edition or the standard 5:02 version, boasts acoustic verses and a powerful chorus that will stay with you for days.
The final Savatage epic from the final Savatage album. Jon Oliva was back on lead vocals. Zack Stevens departed to form his own band, Circle II Circle. This song utilizes a powerful, relentless riff and a host of backing singers taking care of a complicated vocal counterpoint. Different lyrics and melodies all overlap to form a cohesive and weighty segment of an already powerful song. With piano and guitars intertwined with equal emphasis, Savatage may have taken their new operatic metal style to its peak here. Though a comeback is planned, the band has remaining largely inactive ever since. Regardless, at least they finished their first life in style, and with masterful progressive metal music.
Though this song commences with a corny keyboard bit and a ballady melody, it is far from that! The battle grunts of the “warriors” soon join in with a sharp metal riff. An alloy of iron and titanium, “Warriors” boasts a relentless chorus. The verses are fun too. “Armed to attack! The soldiers react!” Not poetry, but it matters not when Oliva screams. This is simply heavy metal, down to the basics, and executed with youth and naivete. The thing is: it’s really good and catchy!
A shorty, at under four minutes. The tempered steel of Criss Oliva’s riff is the main hook. Much would improve later on, such as Jon’s lyrics and the band’s writing skills, but they had everything they needed from the get-go. There’s a slower breakdown in the middle that only serves to re-ignite the powerful riff later on. Oliva’s shrieking was already in place, fully formed and under his complete control. Because the song is so short, you just have to go back and play it one more time.
Producer/manager Paul O’Neill was working with a little band called Badlands in 1989, featuring former Black Sabbath singer Ray Gillen on lead vocals. He made a hell of an impression before Badlands as a backing vocalist on “Strange Wings” by Savatage! This song, which boasts a powerfully simple riff, contains one of Savatage’s mightiest choruses! A melancholy metal song with oodles of power, “Strange Wings” is one of Savatage’s top deep cuts. There are many to choose from, but Ray’s singing on this one sets it apart. His voice, mixed with Jon Oliva’s, offers a rare metal duet of stainless steel.
A classic Criss Oliva riff, backed by the haunting screams of brother Jon! This song introduced Savatage to the metal masses. Few songs can top the power of its mighty riff, or the unholy notes that Oliva hits on the chorus. Not overly complex, but neither is it simple. After Criss’ solo, Jon simply lets loose with the howls of a banshee gone mad! Many would rank this song much higher than #5. Perhaps the Metal Man is one. It is extremely difficult, since Savatage have so many songs of different flavours. Of their era of pure metal majesty, this song is tops.
4.“The Wake of Magellan” from The Wake of Magellan (1999)
Savatage have utilized counterpoint vocals numerous times on their albums from Handful of Rain to Poets and Madmen. It is arguable that “The Wake of Magellan” is their most effective use of the technique. Multiple vocal parts and lyrics overlap over each other, with uncountable Zacks singing complementary parts over each other. Fortunately, the melodies are strong enough to stand out in the storm! While the band and orchestra cooks behind, Zack Stevens sings all the parts, overdubbed for simultaneous power. The first layer: “Don’t see the storms are forming, don’t see or heed the warning, don’t hear the sound of tyrants, surrounded by the silence.” Then a second Zack joins, singing the same. A third Zack emerges overtop, singing the extremely fast and challenging lines: “Columbus and Magellan and De Gama sailed upon the ocean in a world of ignorance with thoughts so primitive. That men were killed with no more will than that they simply had the notion, but in this world of heartless men this thing they never did.” Imagine singing that live, which the band had to do, at machine gun speed! Another Zack doubles those lines. Then a fifth Zack joins: “Don’t hear it, don’t hear it…” Then another Zack: “Got to keep it underground, pretend you never heard a sound.” More Zacks join with the lines “If they find it, kill it, blind it,” and “Lord tell me what is to be,” until all the voices coalesce together in the line “They whisper, and I…” Has there ever been a more epic song in any genre?
New singer. New lease on life. Zack Stevens was sometimes compared to Geoff Tate when he first debuted in 1993 on Edge of Thorns. The first single from the first album of a new era, combining the metal of Savatage’s early years and the piano epics of the previous two records. The brilliant title track from Stevens’ debut still raises goosebumps on the arms. An apex of this style of metal, “Edge of Thorns” has no dull surfaces. Every edge cuts deep, the scarlet blood stains lingering in your heart forever. “I have seen you on the edge of dawn, felt you here before you were born. Balance your dreams upon the edge of thorns…but I don’t think about you anymore.” Yet he clearly does. This theme recurs through the album on songs like “Conversation Piece”. Another genius Criss Oliva guitar solo is the cherry on top. Few bands can meld their different styles from separate eras together like Savatage did on “Edge of Thorns”. A masterpiece of a song.
I’ll never forget hearing that opening piano figure. Loosely, Jon Oliva plays: “ding, ding, ding…” Then as he plays the notes become stronger and the tempo more steady. Suddenly the band crashes forth and “Gutter Ballet” careens through your stereo, into your soul. Savatage had never incorporated piano like this before, and by breaking new ground they broke down walls. No longer were they a simple heavy metal band. The doors to a whole new world of concept and drama had opened. Welcome to the Gutter Ballet. This track combines an epic piano melody with incendiary guitar riffs, an orchestra, and street-smart Oliva/O’Neill lyrics about the nasty gutters of New York City. “Balanced on their knives, little parts of lives, such a strange reality. Kill the unicorn, just to have its horn, soon he’s just a fantasy…” And the Criss Oliva guitar solo! A composition unto itself, backed by strings. Power, emotion, skill and fire combined together into one incredible song. An epic song that few bands could top. Few…except Savatage.
Within the context of the Streets story, the main character D.T. Jesus witnesses a luminous spirit emerge from a dying homeless man, that he follows up several flights of stairs to a roof of a building. D.T. opens his heart, and hears the voice of God. “Believe” is the perfect ending to an epic emotional journey. With all the power that Savatage can muster — overblown, dramatic, and pompous — “Believe” ends the rock opera (and this list) properly. Interestingly, it retains an epic section that was lifted directly from “When the Crowds are Gone”, as the two albums share a genesis. So epic is this segment, that Savatage had to re-use it. Then later, on the Savatage album Handful of Rain, part of it was re-used again, along with other parts of “Believe”. “Believe” ends this album on the bright up-note that you want a story to end with, your soul awash with light and musically uplifted. “I’ll be right there, I’ll never leave, and all I ask is believe”
Paul was a long-term employee with National Trust/Scotia Bank, retiring as Vice-President. Paul and Maria for many years enjoyed their cottage on Lake Huron, trips and many outings with his beloved Barracuda. Paul was truly an enthusiast of Mopar Cars, and he and Maria volunteered for many years at the Mopar Fest held in New Hamburg every year.
Paul was the epitome of a true gentleman and always enjoyed family get-togethers for food and laughter.
Not only was he a true gentleman, but he had many friends. He would be the first one to offer his seat, or to ask if you needed anything. Though he loved quiet time alone watching the races on TV, he was rich in friendship.
He was a car expert. Any movie or TV show, he could identify the vehicles. He would always know when a car that was too new for a period piece was used by mistake. You couldn’t sneak it past him.
He loved Christmas, ornaments and TV specials. It will be weird knowing he’s not here to enjoy this Christmas. We will miss him more than usual this year.
RECORD STORE TALES #1097: Why We Always Liked Christmas Eve Best – An Uncle Paul Story
Christmas was always a big deal in our family. It was a multi-stage affair: many dinners and many gifts at several residences. In my earliest years, the Christmas festivities would begin in Guelph, Ontario.
The Ladano clan originated in Amalfi, and then Sicily. When they came to Canada in the early years of the 1900s, they settled in the largely Italian town of Guelph. This is where my grandfather lived, and we would make our way to his house in the snowy afternoon of December 24. We journeyed from Kitchener, and my Uncle Paul and Aunt Maria came from Stratford. The first round of gifts would be given. A lot of “dinky cars”, Hotwheels and Matchbox. Eventually we would fall asleep, and at the end of the night, we’d be loaded in the car for the drive home. We would probably have slept in the car too, if not for my dad’s shenanigans from the driver’s seat. He always had us on the lookout for “Rudolph”. We had to beat Santa home to the house! “Rudolph” was in fact a red light atop a radio tower, but look for him we did. Radio stations would egg us on with “Santa sightings” on their radar. We’d always make it home before Santa arrived.
After my grandfather died, Christmas Eve changed. My uncle and aunt would arrive mid-day at our house from Stratford. This is where my strongest memories begin.
My sister and I would already be on holidays and we could not — COULD NOT! — wait for Christmas Eve! Whatever old Atari games we had were boring compared to what we thought was coming. Killing time was the name of the game. We watched whatever Christmas specials were on, good and bad. It seemed like an eternity, and it felt like those days crawled by like months. Then, finally, December 24 would come, and Uncle Paul and Aunt Maria would too! And they always brought the best gifts. No clothes from them. Only fun. Candy, puzzles, games, books, and toys only! We had to be showered and dressed, because they’d be here any minute!
We’d stare out the front window at every car. Nope, not them. Nope, not them. Wait! That’s them!! Their car would slowly turn through the snow into the driveway. Then they’d get out and start unloading the gifts! “Look at the size of that one!” I’d cry. “I hope that’s for me!” My mom would interject. “It’s not for you, now go down and help!” And so we’d race down the stairs and hug them and carry the bags and bags of gifts upstairs. They also brought food and treats. My aunt’s home-made pizza would be lunch for the following day.
There was one year that was so snowy, we didn’t know if Christmas Eve would have to be cancelled or not. It seemed unimaginable! The snow that night was some of the deepest I had ever seen. Uncle and Aunt had never missed a Christmas Eve before! No blizzards ever stopped them. One year, they came by train, but they never missed.
Once Uncle and Aunt arrived, it felt like Christmas had really started. Then and only then. Before that moment, there was tension and anticipation. My mom had so much to do in the kitchen before they got there! “If you’re not going to help then stay out of the way!” she would scold. We’d run to join my dad in the living room, waiting patiently watching old black & white Christmas specials. But then Uncle and Aunt would pull into that driveway wearing their warm sweaters, and Christmas would really begin.
After we got our first Schnauzer, the doggie would go crazy when they appeared in our driveway. The dog would bark and bark and bark from the front window, and then race down the stairs to greet them first. Of course, this happy was greeting was conditional upon treats, which were ready in pocket. The dog would wind around our legs as we tried to carry gifts up the stairs.
Uncle and Aunt’s gifts were always opened on Christmas Eve, just like they were back in the old days in Guelph. And they got us the best gifts.
My uncle would always tell us, “be patient!” but we couldn’t wait to rip into their gifts. As the 80s wore on, the nature of the gifts evolved. At first they were Star Wars guys and Atari games. Soon after, GI Joes and Transformers. This gave way to music. Cassettes first, and then CD, with some VHS tapes mixed in for good measure. There were never socks. No button-up shirts, no mittens, no slacks. They never bought us clothes, and they were proud of it! Stratford has some interesting toy stores, so we often received unique 3D puzzles and brain twisters. Stratford also has the best candy stores, and we would often get special treats too. They were so generous to us.
After a few gifts were relieved of their wrapping paper, my dad and uncle would go for a drive — an annual tradition. They would go check out the new cars for sale at the local dearlerships and admire the vehicles, imagining which they would buy next. The rest of us thought this was the most boring Christmas tradition ever! For a few years in the mid-80s, my sister had a paper route. For those years, the tradition was that my dad, uncle and I would pile into a car and help her deliver the papers door to door. One year the snow was so deep, it felt like we were blazing new trails through the Antarctic glaciers.
Dinner was always a fun affair. My uncle had a few beers by then, and was even more playful than usual. My sister and I would fight over who got to sit next to him. (My mom came up with assigned seating at one point, probably because of us.) He was always curious about our gifts. If it was music, he wanted to have a listen to a song or two. If it was a toy, he wanted to watch us put it together, or see how it worked. We received so many cassettes from them during the tape era! I can’t remember the exact tape, but I remember one store sold a cassette to my aunt with the big clunky security case attached. Let me tell you people, it took two grown men, one teenager, and two pairs of scissors to get that rubbery plastic shell off my Judas Priest. (It wasn’t Judas Priest, but I like the way that sentence sounds.) There was also a store in Stratford that could get unusual special orders, and my aunt often secured rare musical gifts that I couldn’t find in town.
The early 80s were particularly frantic. The years of Star Wars and Atari. So many games! Haunted House was responsible for one pretty fun Christmas Eves. During the Atari era, my sister and I would disappear into the basement for long stretches of time playing all our new games. Then we’d wake him up early Christmas morning, because they slept on the fold-out bed right in front of the TV!
Uncle Paul didn’t know or care a thing about Star Wars or Star Trek. He was a car guy. He gave his own names to our toys. “Tauntaun” became Toto. The nine-armed FX-7 medical droid was the “coffee maker”. We loved this about him. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know an R2 unit from a protocol droid. He didn’t care that we didn’t know our cars. Sometimes, we would just quietly sit next to each other without saying a word while we let others do all the talking. Then he might nudge me in the side and laugh. Those were good Christmas Eves.
Christmas Eve hasn’t been the same since my uncle fell sick. We’re older too, and a Star Wars figure doesn’t elicit the same tear-the-box-open kind of excitement. Plus, who can afford Star Wars figures these days? And don’t get me started on GI Joe. I know there are a multitude of reasons why Christmas Eve isn’t what it once was, but I can’t help but feel that a huge part of that is Uncle Paul. Their arrival on December 24 was the official commencement of festivities. Without him, everything seemed so much more…adult.
Over the years, my sister and I would invite friends, boyfriends, and girlfriends to join us on Christmas Eve. No matter who was joining us that night, there was one universal constant: everyone loved Uncle Paul. He was kind, attentive and most of all, he was fun. He was always the most fun of everyone. Even if he was just sitting quietly next to my dad, every so often you’d hear his distinctive laugh and know they just shared an inside joke.
That’s just Christmas Eve. Our Christmas was a long affair, involving a special Christmas Day, and a visit to Stratford on the 27th every year. But those are tales for another day, and as I remember my Uncle Paul, one memory triggers a cascade more. Of these, the many Christmas Eve memories are the strongest. And that’s why we always loved Christmas Eve best of all.
Winters at the Record Store were messy! We had a little front vestibule – a glass enclosure that you had to enter before coming in the store. In the winter, it was always sloppy. Filled with slush, water, mud, dirt. It was impossible to keep clean for very long. Customers would come in, stamp the snow off their boots, and this would splatter snow and mud on the glass. In the winter time, as soon as you cleaned it, it would get filthy again. The mats in there were always soaked wet from slush and snow.
In that front vestibule was a snow shovel. We often had to shovel in front of the store after a bad snow. Pretty standard winter gear in Canada. The front vestibule was the sensible place to store the messy shovel during those times, rather than create a puddle of melting slush in the back.
I was working one afternoon when three to four aimless teenagers were killing time in the store. I hate to paint all teenagers with one brush, I was once one too, but I was never as snotty as the kids that I dealt with that day. Like most teenagers, they were just there to kill time. No money was spent.
I kept an eye on them on their way out, and saw one of them grab my shovel and make a break for it!
Who steals a shovel? A fucking shovel?
I ran outside into the cold and yelled.
“HEY! HEY YOU! BRING THAT BACK! THAT’S OUR SHOVEL!”
Having been busted, the kid turned around and said, “I was just trying to see how fast I could run…with a shovel…”
What what? A true WTF moment and one that had me lose faith in the next generation one more time.
I remember one other detail that must be relayed. I sometimes felt that the Big Boss Man did not have my back, and this was just one other incident. I called him and told him what happened, and his reaction was not what I expected. I expected a “Good job,” or “Thanks for keeping your eyes open.” Instead I received, “Mike…you probably shouldn’t have reacted that way.”
What? Now there are two WTF moments!
If the kid had stolen a $5 CD and got away with it, I’d be scolded for not paying attention. He tried to steal a $20 shovel, and I’m the one who got in shit?
I’ll never understand the upper management I dealt with for those years. And I’ve never had to deal with managers like that since. Tells you something.
Uncle Paul was kind of my music uncle in a way. He didn’t like the same bands as me, but he liked his oldies. He loved the Beach Boys. He even liked when Van Halen played cover tunes. I remember making him a mix tape around 1989 – Best of Van Halen and David Lee Roth. He let me play my music in his stereo, he let me watch Star Trek on his TV. He was a good uncle.
My uncle and my dad were very close. My dad raised him, from a very young age. I grew up with all those memories. “Your uncle lost my Meccano #2 set!” my dad would chide. They shared a mutual love of cars – Chrysler products only. My dad could tell you every car my uncle owned. I couldn’t, except for his vintage ‘Cuda. I think it was a ’72. He bought it, sold it, bought it back, and restored it with original parts. He was very fussy about his cars. One of the best summers of my life involved two days of finishing a large garage in his back yard and wiring it for power.
I liked buying him car model kits every Christmas. He tended to keep them sealed for a “rainy day”. He had a stockpile of sealed models, and several dozen built. They were immaculately displayed in a special custom shelving unit. I remember drawing his picture, and pasting it onto the driver’s seat of a model car, on the box art, because I knew he might not open it for years. He loved watching us open our Christmas presents, but hated the year that they stayed over in the rec room where our Atari 2600 was hooked up. We wanted to play Atari so bad that Christmas morning, and we kept waking him up!
Uncle Paul had a cottage near ours. You could see it from our backyard and get there in a few steps through the woods. He loved our dogs and always had dog treats for them. Whenever he went back there to get another beer, they’d yip and yipe and follow him hastily to get their treats. We had many summers together at that cottage before he sold it. Many shared meals, many chats around the barbecue. When we were really young he’d come down to the beach with us. I remember growing up, he’d always have fried eggs for breakfast at the cottage. But he hated fried eggs so he covered them with pepper until they were black. He loved spicy food. Funny the things you remember.
Juice Newton. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about her, except my uncle had one of her tapes. That’s the only reason I know the name Juice Newton.
He loved comedy. Steve Urkel – remember Family Matters? That was one of his favourite shows for a long time.
I remember installing wooded tiling in the bedroom at the cottage. He “supervised”. We have a photo of him supervising. From the bed! But he sure pitched in when I moved into my first condo. We had the place painted in a day! I returned the favour when he moved into his new place. We had a blast, working together. Building wooden decks at the cottage. How many did we build together? Four? Five? His was the most complicated, and most fun. It had three levels, and wound its way in front of a little stone wall. I cut all the wood custom fit to the stones. We were so proud of our work.
As the memories flood back as they do, I think I will write more stories about my uncle. He hadn’t been well in a long time, and fortunately my only memories of him are when he was himself. You don’t want to say you have a “favourite uncle” but he was a special one. My sister and I always fought over who got to sit next to him at the dining room table, because he was fun and always clowning around. Just like you want an uncle to be.
I’ll miss you Uncle Paul. A lot. Here’s some Beach Boys for you.
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