Erin's Journals

Just a thought… There are times when fear is good. It must keep its watchful place at the heart’s controls. [Aeschylus]

Oh my. Three years ago today we boarded our Air Canada flight for BC – just Rob, Molly and me. A new life began…and here we are. I miss you. I miss radio. But I’m grateful for this connection here and for all of the interesting opportunities that have come our way in the past three years. Time crawls, time flies, time moves no matter how we spend it. I vow to spend it more mindfully in 2020.

I have a couple of very interesting pieces sent to me by journal readers and former listeners. One has to do with a beautiful gesture of thanks, the other in response to last Thursday’s phone scam blog. I got a lot of emails and Facebook posts on that one, so this seems like a topic on which we could all use a little more enlightenment. Please take a few minutes to read and share this. Gilda writes:

Hi Erin. As you wrote in your most recent post, crank calls trying to convince you that they’re coming from a legitimate source are a growing nuisance, and increasingly sinister.

Earlier this week, my husband and I listened to a call-in show on CBC (Ontario Today) which discussed this very topic. The host, Rita Celli, had a security expert as her guest, and invited people to call in with their experiences. As you can imagine, there were some horror stories from people who were duped out of money and/or precious identifying information. These were not just confused seniors who didn’t know any better – some were very computer-literate and knowledgeable people who are being targeted with increasingly sophisticated and convincing scams.

Some callers said that they enjoy “playing” with the scammer, joking around, trying to get them to admit they’re frauds. (One caller said that she asked him how he would feel if his mother knew that he’s doing something so evil, only to be met with a torrent of expletives and threats.) The security expert strongly advised against engaging the scammer in conversation. He pointed out that these scammers and their equipment are very sophisticated, and the longer you are on the phone with them, the greater likelihood that they are picking up clues that they can use against you, even though you may think you’re not giving them any useful information at all. His recommendation is to never pick up ANY call that looks the slightest bit suspicious. If you do pick up by mistake, hang up immediately. And never call back on a number that they provide – that’s a sure sign that the number is set up to sound legit, but it’s not.

In your original post, you said, “After a lengthy pause, there was a garbled message from “Service Canada …” The security expert mentioned this specific detail as a telltale sign that you’re about to be scammed. This is how it works. First, they use automated robocall technology to call virtually every phone number in existence. Then, when the technology detects a pickup, it transfers you to a real person who starts the scam process. That pause before you hear a voice is your first clue that you will be talking to a scammer. You’ve already confirmed that you exist – don’t make it worse by actually talking to him.

Unless you are actually expecting CRA, or the bank, or some other official  agency to call you on a matter that you know about, DO NOT PICK UP. These scammers have ways to make it look like they are legitimate, but the odds are highly likely that the phone number has been “spoofed” to make it look real. Even just the act of picking up the phone, or calling back on a number that they provide … even before you say your first word, you are giving them clues that they will use against you.

I now refuse to pick up any call, unless it shows up on my phone display with the name of a person or company on my Contact list. The odds are that any other call is from a scammer with very sophisticated software that masks his true identity, trying to separate me from my money, digital identity, or both. In the odd circumstance in which a non-identified caller is actually legitimately contacting me (for example, a new friend who has not yet been added to my Contact list, or a new medical office that is calling to set up an appointment at the request of my GP), I trust that they will leave a voice-mail message. At that point, I will add that name and number to my Contact list for future reference, so that an actual name will show up on my phone display the next time they call.

So when you said in your Journal that you plan to respond with your “most desperate ‘little old lady’ voice,” I was very worried about you. You are not likely to accomplish anything, and, without even knowing it, you will have just given them more ammunition to use against you. Please think twice, my dear friend, and be safe.

Thank you, Gilda – points well-made, well-taken and extremely well-explained. I hope everyone takes a moment to read this information.

And finally, to restore your faith in humanity today – the brightness to the darkness in the universe’s yin and yang – a note from Claire. This is so beautiful it almost brought me to tears.

I wanted to let you know that I received your  label for the book. Thank you with all my heart for taking the time to sign it, along with the lovely message.

As promised, I went to Tim Hortons and paid your kindness forward to a woman and her son who were in line ahead of me. I briefly explained why I did what I did, and lo and behold, she knew all about you from years of listening in to CHFI. It made my day (especially when the little boy said thank you to me for paying for his donut, lol)!

Sincere thanks, Erin.

Claire

Oh, you are SO welcome! You see, Claire and I met years ago outside a Tim Hortons, as Rob and I were making our way to Ottawa for a visit. We posed together for a picture and her loveliness made an indelible impression. So that’s why Claire chose to thank me for the label (as she did Lisa, too) with a Tim Hortons gesture. It was perfect – and just a beautiful way to honour the spirit of this season: giving, expecting nothing in return and feeling good right to the bottom of your cup – or heart.

Have a lovely day and I’ll be back with you here on Thursday. 

Just a thought… May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house. [George Carlin] (and yes, I checked to make sure this really is one of his pearls of wisdom, unlike so many that make the rounds!)

My own “knives” were “out” when I got a suspicious phone call the other day and I’ll tell you about it in a moment. But first to the movies: if you’re looking for an update on the old reliable “whodunit” genre of film, complete with twists, turns, eye-popping scenery like, oh, Daniel Craig as the lead investigator, and a great cast, I recommend Knives Out.

In a nutshell, Christopher Plummer’s character, a hugely successful author, is found dead in his study in what appears to have been a suicide – or was it? Only one person knows for sure, or do they?

It is, as one writer smarter than I put it, “Agatha Christie for the Trump Age” and don’t take that in a bad way. The one-percenters are at each other’s jugulars for almost the entire time; who will get the estate?

It’s billed as a comedy, but the laughs are more wry than of the belly variety. Good adult fun with Star Wars: The Last Jedi director Rian Johnson at the helm, and Golden Globe noms to boot! (We won’t miss them January 5th, hosted for the 5th time by the wonderfully irreverent Ricky Gervais.)

Now, to the phone scam I mentioned here Monday. I’m sitting writing when I see a call coming in and it’s a number from Guelph.

In the split second it took me to think it over, I couldn’t rule out knowing this person, so I decided to answer. After a lengthy pause, there was a garbled message from “Service Canada” saying that my Social Insurance Number was being suspended for some reason. Okay, I thought, I’ll bite.

As the message implored, I hit the #1 on my keypad. After one short ring, someone in a busy call office filled with voices and noise in the background answered, “Service Canada….”

I said, “Hello, what is Service Canada?” After a moment, he asked me to repeat myself, so I did.

Then he responded haltingly, “You don’t know what Service Canada is?”

I answered, “No, and neither do you – you’re not even IN Canada, you lying a**hole!”

Well, that did it: he responded with a flurry of expletives that started with an “F-you!” and he got to “Mother Fu…” – before I hung up.

That felt good for about ten seconds. And then I thought, Uh oh – what if that really was Service Canada and that man had a thick accent because he’s new to this country? Did he swear at me for coming off as racist? Did I actually attack someone who is working for the Canadian Government?

Before I got into too much of a cold sweat, I looked up the phone number: 226-500-4649. There was nothing on the internet to suggest that it was suspicious. Oh jeez. What had I done?

I called the number and – surprise, surprise – a recording told me that it was not in service. So that answered that for me: my suspicions were correct.

Next time (although Rob urges me not to get into it with these people out of fear of harassment – even though I block the number immediately) I am going to put on my most desperate “little old lady” voice and plead out of fear for them to help me and not to suspend my number – or whatever it is these nefarious boneheads are threatening to do.

If I’m lucky, Rob’s phone will be nearby and I can record the entire exchange. And I promise to share it with you, but you may not like some of my language, as you can probably already tell!

And now, if I can have a little privacy, I shall remove my fightin’ pants. They do feel good, though…almost as good as my jammies. Have a great weekend and I’ll be back with you on Monday.

Just a thought… People don’t buy because what you do is awesome. People buy because it makes them feel awesome. [Tara Gentile]

Welcome to a brand new week. And thank you to Carol for sending a pic of my book at Chapters Indigo in Ajax…

And to Diane for this shot from her local Scarborough Shoppers Drug Mart. I don’t take these for granted, not for one minute. Each one gives me a bit of a thrill, and is just a reminder of the incredible road that has been 2019.

Last week we listed a couch for sale that we no longer want. That little tidbit will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me; couches tend to have a lifespan of under five years in my presence. We carted two heavy mechanized pieces all the way from Ontario only to sell them cheap in Victoria; goodness knows my friends have inherited couches many times through the years.

However, in my defence, I have one sister who moves houses with about the same regularity, so I don’t feel so bad about trading out a couch every few years!

So here it is. We put the white two-piece leather sectional on Craigslist on Tuesday night and by Wednesday we had three responses: one from Sergio who wanted to come sometime in the morning hours. I told him mornings were good for us. Aaaaaand…*crickets from Sergio*.

Rob heard from Kyle, who couldn’t get the couch this week but would check with us next week to find out if it was still available. Okay, so that was a definite maybe.

Then Rob received an email saying that this third person was out of town but if we’d add another $25 to the price, he’d come and get it when he came back. A HARD no to that one! We didn’t even follow up to see how this person figured that that financial transaction was going to go down.

I remember well when the sister I mentioned above was trying to sell a piano and she heard from scammer after scammer saying that they were buying it for a relative but would send the money once it was picked up. OH YEAH, pull my other leg. Or better yet, pull my finger….

Then Friday came and we had not one or two but four interested inquiries. What to do? We heard back from Sergio (our message had gone into his spam folder) and it turns out he and his wife were interested! They saw it on Saturday and on Sunday we said good-bye to our sectional about one hour before the new one was delivered. Talking about timing; thank you, Craigslist!

Rob was reluctant to list it there as we’ve heard of so many scams, dead leads and ways to be hung out to dry: the most common we experienced over the years was people coming by with less money than the ad asked (and no intention to pay full price or go to an ATM). But we made it clear on the phone that we were not budging and we weren’t going to go lower. We did, and here’s why.

When the couple arrived, they were lovely: he’s an architect, she works in a well-known local restaurant, one we’ve been tempted to visit when company comes. So some insider information was handy! We talked about flights to Mexico, where they’re from and where my sister resides, and had a nice visit while measurements were taken, and so on.

When we came to the price, Rob reiterated that we were firm, as we had several potential buyers. But then you come to the “bird in the hand” (and purchasers in your house) position and you weigh your options.

Also, from what I know of shopping in other countries including Mexico, I had formed the idea that with them coming from a country where bartering is an art form, it would be almost an insult to this couple not to offer a lower price.

To give them a sense of accomplishment knowing that, not only did they get a piece of furniture they desired, but that they’d been able to get a better price for it than we’d asked. I think that’s a win/win; as much as I hate bartering, it seemed like the right thing to do, given to whom we were selling.

Half an hour after pick-up, they sent a picture of it in their home and it looks just perfect. Wonderful. Why can’t every transaction be this warm and fuzzy?

I’m not sure if the Craigslist climate is one that comes with an expectation of lowering your price (especially when the “bird in the hand” shows up with fewer bills in his feet than you were asking) but I think we did the right thing. It all worked out – both sides were happy and who can ask for more than that?

Have a great day and we’ll be back with you on Thursday with a journal about putting on my fighting pants for a scammer’s call. Turns out I packed and brought them with me, and it’s a good thing, although HE might not think so!

Just a thought… Once you realize you deserve a bright future, letting go of your dark past is the best choice you will ever make. [Roy T. Bennett]

Rain in the desert. Rain, rain, rain. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining: I know it’s not the nasty precipitation that so many journal readers in Southern Ontario have had to endure the last week or so, but I’m just saying it in case you think I’m down here basking in the California sunshine when I could be staying in the Victoria area at home, getting rained on there! At least it assuages my guilt a little bit, for what that’s worth!

Why guilt, I wonder? Did I ever begrudge my parents’ trips to a spot in Florida when they were empty nesters and Dad had retired? No. Was I envious when my folks, who later moved to BC, decided they’d stay in Palm Springs for the winters to be in the sun and close to one of my sisters? Oh heck no. I figured they worked for it, took no tropical vacations (and we weren’t like the “rich families” who got to go to Disney World) when we were kids, and deserved to kick back and escape Canadian winters.

To be honest with you, the guilty pleasure that I indulge in most often is sleep. That most basic, most necessary and most appreciated element of our lives that so many of us either can’t fit in, or choose to put on the back burner while doing things that are seemingly so much more important.

Every morning – every single morning – that I awoke at 3:15 or 3:45 am (depending on if we were leaving our house near Georgina or the apartment downtown), I counted the hours until I’d be back in bed for a nap. And once I’d decided to leave the radio life, I began counting the days.

If I awaken in the wee small hours, I say a silent prayer of thanks for the opportunity not to have to get up for the day, or to set an alarm. When Rob pads into the room with a tray of coffee or I open my eyes to a lighted room and see him and Molly softly dozing beside me, I take a moment to count our blessings.

I also awaken grateful not to have a hangover; there were too many days of dull aches and regrets to count, and every morning with a clear head is one that I don’t take for granted. Some evenings are a challenge (or were at first) but the mornings are a blessing.

I wish that the upcoming softcover edition of Mourning Has Broken included an extra chapter on the year that followed the book’s publication back in February. I have been thinking a lot about 2019 – perhaps it’s with all of the best-of lists and years-in-review already showing up in my inbox – and wondering who else this year went from the bestsellers’ list to a rehab program. But that addition wasn’t requested of me and I didn’t suggest it.

My own struggle is to reinvent myself in 2020. To continue to try to gain traction as an inspirational speaker, sharing the message of the book and the perspectives on loss and joy that have come to me as a result. The invitations to talk to groups pro bono (or close to it) have been coming in, but if I’m not flying to that area for a paid engagement, it just puts us in the red, and that’s not what we’re aiming for.

And so, as my counsellor reminds me to “let go and let God” on the road ahead, I continue to hold myself open to whatever it is the universe has in store next.

Patience has never been my strong point; at 17 I was raring to go in this world of radio and at 18, before my second year of college, my parents and professor had to sit me down and talk me out of taking a first news job in Grande Prairie, Alberta. Thankfully – but with a lot of disappointment – I listened to their advice.

Ottawa, Windsor and Toronto awaited in the next two years; how lucky I was to have hit a time in radio where doors were opening for women, rather than 30 years later when trap doors are swallowing up many radio employees, both newbies and veterans.

As I read my weekly Broadcast Dialogue newsletter and watch the firings and (so-called) layoffs in the industry I loved so much, I wonder if Lauren would have been among the countless casualties at her radio station in Ottawa?

Would she have been moved to the protective custody of the morning show at 580 CFRA? Or perhaps, having been let go (as I was from Windsor), would she have mirrored my story and found her way to Toronto, where we all could have lived in close proximity?

I try not to think about any of those “what ifs,” but as I head off to sleep at night – to dream of her and our lives that should have been, uninterrupted by three alarms going off – it’s impossible not to wonder.

It doesn’t make me sad, it just makes me wonder. I have to trust in my Higher Power guiding us through whatever’s ahead in the new year, named so optimistically 2020 for the clarity of vision that I hold with hope, in my heart.

Have a lovely weekend and I’ll be back with you Monday.

Just a thought… Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. [Victor Hugo]

Like many homes after a long four-day weekend stateside, ours is unusually quiet today: Lisa and Derek have hit the road back towards San Francisco and fly out of the “City by the Bay” early tomorrow.

They’re toting with them 86 addressed envelopes, each holding a letter and a label (some from HarperCollins, others – more generic ones – I purchased at Staples simply because I didn’t bring enough down to California with me; forgive me if they don’t all bear the HC logo) for those folks buying copies of Mourning Has Broken for people on their gift lists this year. I’m so glad I could find a way to personalize them and I hope that they are well received.

By the way, if you do receive one of those labels/book plates, I’d be grateful for a review on Amazon.ca or Goodreads or wherever it is that you purchased my book, if that’s applicable.

It warms my heart to think that this labour of love, which has occupied such a huge part of our lives for the past three years, but especially 2019, will find its way into more hands this Christmas. It’s all about spreading hope and healing. What lies ahead, I have absolutely no idea, but that’s a journal for another day.

Words just don’t do the trick when I tell you what a wonderful week we had with our friends. I shared with you some of our many activities and outings here last Thursday, but the best part of all was simply spending time with them.

Emptying pot after pot of Rob’s spectacularly robust coffee each morning. Lounging in our PJs early at night and bingeing the Apple+ TV series The Morning Show starring Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon. (Boy, is it powerful and exciting! If you had any doubts about Ms. Aniston’s abilities as an actress, this performance puts them aside for good.)

Talking for hours on end about freelance voice work, mutual acquaintances and our hopes for the year ahead. Going to a few 12-step meetings (my first since arriving down here). I haven’t found “my people” here yet, but the first moves have been made, helped by finding out that Lisa and Derek have friends who literally live just around the corner from our house, and making casual plans to actually meet some folks, also expat Canadians.

Meantime, this is the view that bade Lisa and Derek farewell as they left our city (and its famous wind turbines). Palm Springs perfection, as tweeted by @lisambrandt.

There was no Black Friday shopping for any of our bunch here; I’m averse to crowds, especially when we don’t really need anything. I’m also having a hard time tuning out the Christmas music pumped relentlessly into some of the stores, like my new fav, Stein Mart.

With radio stations changing formats, you have a choice (and a great many listeners choose CHFI, bless you). People love to offer up when they think the station should change over: some suggest the day after American Thanksgiving (which makes no sense for a Canadian station), others say December 1st, and still others protest loudly that they will never come back, which also makes no sense.

Punishing oneself to punish the station? I get that a lot of people feel passionately about their radio station, and that’s what I always loved about CHFI listeners; after all, they – you – saved my career at least once. But it’s a programming tradition that has been adhered to for well over a decade now, and people now know 98.1 as their Christmas Music Station.

I did want to clarify what I meant with that tweet last week:

If you find yourself in a place perusing the merch and it’s one loud (and often not especially well-done) Christmas song after another, it’s painful to have to find a way to tune out the ones that make you sad, which so many of them do for us now. Obviously, like everyone does with their favourite station, I have the choice to turn away, which I did last year: I put down a pile of clothes that I was ready to try on and simply walked out before the sadness morphed into actual tears.

I tweeted something to that effect on Wednesday last week and it elicited a big response. But I worried (’cause that’s my super power) that my comments were misconstrued as taking a shot at my former radio home. I will always be loyal to CHFI and the people there who had my back when I needed it most; I was just feeling blue and having a Loo day. They do come and go, as anyone who is familiar with grief knows.

It was during that blue Loo day that Lisa and I were indulging in a little hunting and pecking of the shopping variety last week. During a walk through downtown Palm Springs, we came across some beautiful wings that had been painted on a wall. Lisa took a few shots of me, I played around with a filter or two, and here’s what we ended up with. They sum up the ups and downs of going on after the events that have brought us here.

Have a gentle first few days of December and I’ll be back here with you Thursday. Sending hugs and warm thoughts – yes, I follow what the weather’s doing.