Of course there’s a story and the reasoning behind my pen name is twofold.
The first reason is rather simplistic; my surname is King and I live on Bauer Street, a small street in central Halifax noted for it’s brightly coloured townhouses, its close proximity to the Halifax Common and its quaint, urban-lifestyle atmosphere. With only this reason in mind, one will think that I spent little time or creative energy to define my literary persona.
But it is the second reason that is more interesting and one worth sharing.
I am a proud Canadian and as such, I hold many things deemed “Canadian” in high regard. It is with this in mind that I humbly dedicated my King of Bauer namesake to something truly Canadian; that is my tribute, if you will, to the King of Kensington.
Although Canada was not known for producing good quality or funny sitcoms, King of Kensington, keeping true to its Canadian roots of being more subtle than its American counterparts, could be compared to many of the Norman Lear-produced sitcoms of the 1970’s for its politically conscious humour. It was a damn good show!
When I moved on to Bauer Street six years ago, my best friend and then-roommate often compared me to the King of Kensington’s anti-hero, the always-good natured Larry King, played by the late, great Al Waxman. I was never sure if the comparison was drawn from Larry’s attempt to help friends and solve problems or if it was because I looked a bit like the sometimes weight-challenged Al Waxman. Nonetheless, I reveled in the comparison.
King of Kensington Theme
I continue to watch the show in reruns, when available and I almost had the opportunity to meet Waxman’s costar, Ms. Fiona Reid, last year but unfortunately I was foiled by the homeless community and thus the opportunity was lost and the meeting wasn’t meant to be.
I think it’s important to note that I’m not saying that I am anti-homeless; quite honestly I am probably but a mere pay cheque away from being homeless myself. I am completely in support of helping any person in need however I don’t think there is anything wrong with expecting a bit of courtesy from the homeless; proper etiquette should always be exercised regardless of social or financial situation. This is all I’m saying.
I digress.
I heard that Ms. Reid was appearing in Doubt at Halifax’s Neptune Theatre so I managed to get tickets for the show. As I took my seat in Fountain Hall that cold night in March of last year, I eagerly awaited for the lights to dim and the curtain to rise. I reflected on my adoration of Ms. Reid with my companion. I excitedly told of when I first remember seeing her; she replaced Ms. Lally Cadeau in the final season of the Canadian sitcom, Hangin’ In which was a television show I also used to watch when I was young.
On a side note, I also very much admire and respect Ms. Cadeau, and had seen her a few years previous in the very same theatre portraying Big Mama in Neptune Theatre’s production of A Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.
I digress.
By the time I had gotten to the part in my yarn of my enjoyment of seeing Ms. Reid play the effervescent Cathy King for the first three seasons on King of Kensington, the show started. I fell silent as the lights dimmed….much to the delight of my companion and fellow theatre goers. The show was amazing and I sat on the edge of my seat, hands clasped when Ms. Reid took to the stage.
When the show ended and I had gathered my program, coat, gloves and my companion following the standing ovation, we took our leave of the theatre. Once outside in the chilly air of a March evening, my companion asked if I wanted to wait around in hopes of a chance meeting with Ms. Reid; I immediately accepted the offer. As we waited, a girl appeared from around a corner asking if we had change to spare for the bus; apparently according to her she had spent her money on liquor and did not have enough left to catch the next bus home. We didn’t have any change and I wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation with her as I was jumpier than a virgin at a prison rodeo awaiting the possible opportunity to meet Ms. Reid.
After the girl left, we remained but were approached by a gentleman in ragged clothes and smelling of a mixture of cheap liquor and cat urine. He turned to me and asked, “Can I ask you a favour, Bud?”
It must be noted that I immediately coil in disgust when anyone refers to me as “Bud.” I am not his “bud” and by him taking the liberty to refer to me as “bud” certainly reduced the possibility that any friendship would occur.
“If the favour you are about to ask has anything to do with you asking me for money, then no, you may not ask me a favour” I sharply replied, still agitated at his referring to me as “Bud.” I realized though, that my tone was harsh and unsympathetic.
He paused, looked me up and down and simply replied, “Never mind.”
But it didn’t end there. He quickly turned to my companion and stated with absolute certainty, “Your pal there, he’s got murder in his eyes!”
So there it is; my chance to meet someone that I have admired for years and I have just angered the homeless.
I suggest to my companion that it looked doubtful for a meeting; it was cold, this homeless guy was hanging around telling everyone who walked by about my murderous eyes (which, in all honesty, I was now beginning to contemplate) and Ms. Reid was no where to be found. Begrudgingly, my companion agrees and we decide to walk up the long hill towards home. We just get across the street when the theatre doors open up and I see her walk out into the cold night and immediately get questioned by that girl looking for change that had disappeared earlier. That’s right, that girl walked boldly up to Ms. Fiona Reid and asked for change for the bus!
I actually don’t know if Ms. Reid indulged her not, but the girl left quickly. Now was my chance so my companion and I were just about to cross back to the side of the street where Ms. Reid was walking when she was approached by another eager fan. After some debate, we decide to wait to see if she would speak with us when she was finished her discussion with this other guy. While we were waiting though, fate intervened again when the aforementioned homeless gentleman returned to continue his rant about my supposed evil eyes. It became clear that if I was to wait to for Ms. Reid to finish her conversation, we would be intercepted by this guy and I just couldn’t bare to have my opportunity squashed by the ramblings of a still-agitated, drunken idiot.
And thus, I would not get to meet Ms. Fiona Reid on that fateful night; I can only hope that a future opportunity will present its self.
So, I guess the lesson I can take from all of this is that I will find my fortune in the faces that surround me and hopefully helping other people will bring me luck!
Originally written May 14, 2010
No comments:
Post a Comment