Erin's Journals

Just a thought… When you speak up about any sense of unfairness or injustice, you’re told that you’re overreacting, you’re too angry, too silly – shut up already. It takes a tremendous amount of fortitude to be able to live in this world as a woman, let alone a woman who wants things to change. [Kathleen Hanna]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Hey – hope this last third of August is treating you well. If you were out of internet range or under a nice cool rock last week, you missed THE big story in Canada – media or otherwise – and possibly by now you’re quite possibly thinking: Okay, we’ve all heard enough about Lisa LaFlamme…time to move on. I get that. Just a few more things before we do, though, okay?

Because I also see a lot of conversation – and some really deep stuff – on my social media, particularly my Facebook page, about discrimination, ageism and, of course, sexism as it applies, not only in the media, but in everyday life.

Ageism has become my big thing and partly because I was so afraid of being seen as “old” in the media (terrified of even saying ‘grandmother’). I was pretty sure I’d never be allowed to work to 65+ like my partners Don Daynard or Mike Cooper or good ol’ Wally Crouter.

Of course I didn’t; I left at 54, because I chose to. Given our circumstances in 2016: my unhappiness overall, but especially with my co-host, the perfect house awaiting us in BC and the fact that I had a lot of healing to do after losing Lauren the previous year, it was time for me to go. CHFI was very kind in releasing me from my contract. So yes, there are exceptions to the example I’m about to lay out for you. I was lucky.

Lisa LaFlamme was not afforded the luxury of that decision. She quite likely had another decade or two ahead of her, had she chosen to take them. And I have no doubt that if she chooses to work again, she’ll be welcomed with open arms and hopefully a salary that befits her expertise and reputation.

Bell Media (first and foremost a phone company that answers, not to viewers or listeners, but shareholders) says she got the chance to say good-bye on air and didn’t take it. If that’s true, good for her for saying no! Because you know what happens before they take you out and shoot you, right? After a lovely video send-off, you go on the air and say that you have decided to go, that you are so grateful, that you will miss the viewers and on and on…sometimes they even say they’ll be back occasionally with “projects” that never materialize. Huh.

Whether you’ve known it or not, you’ve seen it dozens of times over the past few years with hosts who were shown the door. They’re told, “You’ll get your good-bye, but don’t go off-script or no severance package. Oh, and no talking about your work situation in a ‘negative fashion’ once you’re gone, either. Or it’s all off the table.”

Oh and, yes, that happens in radio, too.

So, two things I need you to take with you and they’re big. First, stop thinking your opinion matters. Your loyalty does not matter. Yes, it did in my case in 2003-05, but I was lucky and it was rare. You can sign the petitions. Pledge to boycott. Show your anger.

But in 2022, very little matters but the eyeballs on the digital content. TV and, to some extent, radio are killing themselves – destroying loyalty – and wondering why numbers are dwindling. Local content is disappearing, just as the local newspapers are being swallowed up and deleted. That real, heartfelt connection with the audience that Lisa only built on during Covid and letting her hair go grey as so many people were? It does not matter.

Twerps, and I use that word being just as kind as I can, come in from their accounting, consulting or business backgrounds and simply do not understand what makes that connection. So they cut it, and then they feign surprise when people are upset. If you are over 35, 45, 55, most media doesn’t want you. Never mind that we are the generation with the money, the ones who are spending, the ones with houses with no mortgages and doing discretionary spending. Nope, don’t mind us. We stopped mattering when the ratings were focussed on 25-54, and especially the younger end of that group.

Second, please stop calling for other women, like hosts of The Social or veteran fill-in anchor Sandie Rinaldo, to stand up for Lisa. These women have no voice, no say, no power. That’s the way it’s been set up. They’re constantly told, as was ousted CTV Toronto anchor Christine Bentley again and again when work and hours were loaded on with no extra pay, “There are plenty of women who’d love to take your place.”

Eventually they will. So let the ones who do have jobs play out their careers with what little autonomy they’re allowed. Don’t blame them for not raising their heads from the foxholes. You don’t have to watch them, but please don’t call for them to sacrifice themselves for the cause, either. They don’t deserve your disappointment; there are plenty of suitable targets here to go around.

Television is and always was a brutal, petty, sexist, ageist medium. There’s usually just a prettier curtain in front of the manure pile to keep you from seeing and smelling it.

Welcome to a brand new week as we embark on the second half of August. For some, this brings a taste of bittersweetness, as summer winds down. But today I lean into the sweet with the taste of the bounty of the land: corn on the cob.

You may have seen some of these tips before from me; it’s honestly one of the best (and only) domestic hacks I have. But I went to the kitchen and shot an all new video (with new cob knobs to match!) and I hope you’ll visit my Facebook page, or click here for one of the best tricks you’ll ever see; saves time, mess, heat in the kitchen and a whole lot of work.

Enjoy – and I’ll be back with a new journal and video blog for you here next Monday. Take your time, August, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like….

*** It’s taken me a while to put into words how Olivia Newton-John, who passed away today at age 73, made a difference in the lives of so many, including of course, Rob’s and mine. I’ve recorded a short tribute to her, remembering why she is so loved and will be missed so terribly. May she ever rest in the peace she so deserves. Here’s a link if you’re interested. 

Just a thought… Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. [America’s Top 40 host Casey Kasem]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

I want to begin with a thank you. I’m so glad you enjoyed last week’s surprise treat in my vlog from Langley Ukes almost as much as we did in stumbling upon them at the BC Museum.

But isn’t that just like life? Rarely does adventure come to your door if you just stay home. But this week is an exception where something spectacular is quite literally at your doorstep. Only higher.

In these early days of the sultry month of August, we’re being treated to an annual celestial event: the Perseid meteor showers. It won’t be the best viewing this week, as the peak of the showers coincides with the brightest moon, between Thursday and Friday. So those in the know say watch for them now and all week, and you’ll see them best just before dawn.

For Rob and for me, the Perseid meteor showers have a much deeper and higher meaning, and they have to do with connecting with the heavens.

It was August of 2015. We were in Sedona, Arizona, doing some spiritual work in the early months after our daughter’s death. Sedona is known for its amazing energies coming from the earth called vortexes which are said to make trees grow like this, in spirals.

I happen to feel different to my core when I’m there, and so it’s been my place of solace, “soul-ace” you could say, on more than one occasion in this complicated life. And so, when we were broken, this is the place we returned to, to find wholeness within its holiness.

We stayed in a space that allowed us to take in the vast beauty of our surroundings as guests at a house that had a pool deck .

Just watching the storms in the distance at sunset was breathtaking enough.

The play of colours and clouds could bring peace to even the most broken of hearts, even for the shortest time.

But lucky for us, the Perseid showers were happening at that time, too. I wish I had pictures of what we saw, but I’ll use my words instead. (You can easily Google images of Perseid showers; they’re worth the search.)

After a day of gentle hiking, guided meditation and even making a tiny rock memorial…

…we came home to dinner and a quiet evening. Then, as the sun set, we watched the skies, hoping they’d clear enough for that night’s “show.”

We weren’t disappointed. Reclined in loungers and covered in blankets, Rob and I promised we’d stay out until we’d counted 24 of the white streaks across the desert sky – one for every year of her life with us. Gradually we made our way into the teens and finally called it a night at 32. So mesmerizing was the sight, the feeling of connection with the heavens and our girl up there with them, that we didn’t want it to end.

Eventually we called it a night and we both had sore necks the next day to show for it, but the memories of that closeness to the stars long outlasted the far worse pain of those early days of mourning. And those meteors? They come back year after year. Lovely.

Maybe tonight, or tomorrow, or when skies are clear and you’re still up, you’ll look up. You may make a wish when you see that meteor go by; perhaps you’ll just wonder if something was a reflection in the lenses of your glasses.

Whatever is in your heart, I hope you’re able not only to soak in the closeness of these summer days, but, oh, those summer nights (don’t worry, I won’t sing anything from Grease). There are so very few in the calendar, not just of the year, but our lives.

Have a gentle, starry week and I’ll talk to you here next Monday. Please join me at Drift with Erin Davis any night wherever you download podcasts for a sleep story to guide you into gentle dreams. And again, thank you.

Just a thought… I would say that music is the easiest means in which to express, but since words are my talent, I must try to express clumsily in words what the pure music would have done better. [William Faulkner]I

As Victoria is in the embrace of many live musical performances in honour of the long weekend, I wanted to share with you an experience we had a few weeks ago, my sister, her friend and I. We had the pleasure of a visit to the Royal BC Museum in downtown Victoria where admission was just five dollars, as some of the displays, particularly the Indigenous ones, had been packed up in anticipation of the closure of the museum for earthquake proofing. That plan fell by the wayside when departing premier John Horgan took a lot of heat for allocating so much provincial money that many thought should be better spent during hard times.

I’d have paid far, far more than five bucks to experience what was the highlight of our visit. For, upon entry, we heard music – live music – and followed the sounds to an auditorium just off the main vestibule. And there sat a dozen-and-a-half young people, ukuleles in hand, making the most wonderful music this side of the Hawaiian Islands.

Turns out they are the “A” group from the Langley Ukulele Association (in existence for over 40 years); there are other groups through which students pass and learn before getting to the top tier. Under the direction of Paul Luongo and led by his father for decades before him, this group also teaches children aged 8 to 11 to learn this most common but sweet four-stringed instrument (although we did see an eight-string in there). You can deep dive at langleyukes.com.

Our trio was mesmerized by the youth, the enthusiasm, the grace and humour of this 18-person ensemble and, most of all, by the exceptional musicianship. I recorded some of their performance, which was – to our regret and as you’ll see in a moment – witnessed by a very small group on a summer day. But what we lacked in numbers, we made up for in enthusiasm. And although I didn’t get the first verse of this song, enjoy “Bohemian Rhapsody” by this group of 12- to 18-year-olds from the BC mainland who ferried over to share their talent and joy. Oh, they’ve travelled farther than that: in various incarnations over the years, the group has performed in numerous places, including Hawaii, where the ukulele is as symbolic of the state as leis and swaying palm trees.

Do be sure to listen for the very last vocal chord of this Queen classic. That note you may hear sung, jumping in before “blows,” that’s me. I should have left it to the pros! But my heart was in the right place, even if that note wasn’t. You can watch and listen to it on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Enjoy and have a lovely holiday Monday. I’ll have another video journal next week. And please enjoy a sleep story tonight on Drift with Erin Davis…free, made possible by Kathy and Kim at enVypillow.com. Thank you and sweet dreams.

Just a thought… Your dream doesn’t have an expiration date. Take a deep breath and try again. [Kt Witten]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Still catching your breath after Friday’s 28-5 Jays win over Boston? I can’t help but think that on the first game back for first-base coach Mark “Bud” Budzinski after losing his 17-year-old daughter in a tubing accident, he might have wondered if Julia was his Angel in the Outfield. I know I do. (Does anyone else remember that movie? It was a favourite in our house as Lauren was growing up….)

Now…where was I?

Ah yes, today’s journal. We go back in time a bit to a post about some yogurt drinks for the kidlets. Their “best before” date was the next day and they were on sale – hugely – and so I had to buy them. And then I asked you what you would do: would you purchase and, secondly, would you give them to the kids?

I thought I’d be able to collect and count the responses, but with so many on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, it was impossible. SO many responses – nearly 100 on FB alone. Of those, and let’s make it a percentage, about 5% said absolutely not. Maybe 2% said they’d eat it themselves but not give it to the children. And the rest consisted of wisdom like this:

“There’s a difference between ‘best before’ and ‘expiry.’ ‘Best Before’ indicates the quality of food might not be 100% but still safe to eat.”

“Best Before is just a suggestion.”

“Does it pass the sniff test?”

“If they’re not open, they’re okay.”

Okay, well, I’m sure it does go bad eventually, but I’ve never opened a container of yogurt, no matter how old, that had mold on it. Once it’s been unsealed and forgotten in the fridge for a few weeks, absolutely – but never new. Perhaps I’ve been lucky.

Oh, and someone else said to buy the drinks and freeze them in ice trays! To me, that makes total sense. After all, you can freeze anything, really; it’s just how it thaws that determines whether it’s a good idea, right?

One woman said she throws things out a few days before the date stamped on her food. I promised no judgment in my original post, and you know, that’s her business. But it makes me so sad to see good food go to waste, especially when it’s perfectly fine to eat for days or weeks after the date stamped on it.

This past Friday, I bought a jug of milk that was half off because it expires this coming Wednesday. And I knew the milk would be gone by then, so I count that as a solid win. There’s no shame in discount groceries, doggy bags or leftovers, for heaven’s sake. Because more than half of total food waste happens at home.

I’m not a Depression-era child like my parents, but as I age, it’s become a passion with me to find food deals: I search out the dairy that’s near its d-day. I pore over that rack near the back of the store with products that are getting a bit dusty. I keep eggs in the fridge for weeks and weeks.

A short power outage or trip with food in the car doesn’t worry me in the least. I cut off the bruises; trim the white or blue off the cheese that isn’t meant to be white or blue; buy stuff and freeze it right away. The average family of four wastes about $2000 worth of food in a year. Regardless of income, how dare we?

This isn’t scientific and I’m the last person to give dietary or health advice. (And in a moment I’ll link to an article that reminds us all of the no-wiggle-room items like baby formula.) All I can tell you is that I’ve only once gotten food poisoning and it was from foolishly thawing salmon on the counter, changing my mind about dinner and freezing, then thawing it again another time. I deserved to be sick and I was. Food poisoning is not a joke and my kitchen isn’t the set of Fear Factor. I wouldn’t endanger those I love; if I wanted to do that, I’d cook more!

But seriously, with inflation as high as it is worldwide and, of course, at home, we have to look at this logically. And to that end, I have for you a handy list of when things should be used, saved or pitched. The link is here from RealSimple.com.

Take a moment to visit if you’re interested and I hope you’ll share this journal, which I promise has no expiry date. Oh, and neither do my Drift with Erin sleep stories, which I hope you’re enjoying for free through Simplecast.com. Have a lovely week and I’ll be back with you here on the holiday Monday.