Poem from Fred Wah

Dear Carol,
I tried posting this poem to the blog today but it ended up as a comment on the Crossword.
I don't have any cross words for Mike but I'd like him to have this.
love, Fred


Dear Mike,
maybe the body is poetry
and it rhymes (or doesn’t)
but now in our own old bodies
I think it’s easy to say that
harder to think it

The talk’s been a joy
(the poetry too
ok, novels)
but when I think of you
I think of your body
which is always where you are
slight query of your head
(just like Victor)
swaying height and tilted
like the ideogram for “man”
the intensity of running
no, that’s from your eyes

Well, I guess we do think in pictures
the mental life belongs to all of us
but the body is a beautiful poem
(at least that’s the plan)
we can read it and read it
and read it

So I see you dear friend
every part of you moving
like the words of a poem
(ok, and a novel)
our music at the heart of thinking
always there to be read

with love, Fred

Rod's List

          A Few Recollections, and 75 things we like about Mike

A few things from the past stick in the mind (but not guaranteed accurate): 

In Grade 8 (roughly 60 years ago), Mike, tasked to use the word 'tendentious' in a sentence, offered "Olive's breasts were tendentiously high, firm and well-separated." 

Robbed in early high school years of his closing line "Now I know the importance of being Ernest" by my premature closing of the curtain—despite the attempt of Miss Langridge hanging on the curtain rope to forestall me—Mike offered me condolences for my mistake, rather than condemnation for my theft of his spotlight moment. 

Robbed later in high school of fame for his adaptation of Julius Caesar, the one that introduced the character of Little Caesar to clear the stage at the close, by my failure to deliver my one line audibly, Mike was again accepting of my incompetence (though I believe he lost that tolerance with respect to politicians in all places later on). 

Much later, in the Elder College role he created to back Alice Munro in cage matches against all comers—even Mavis Gallant—Mike returned to the tolerant classroom persona that clashed so violently with his moments of political commentary.

75 things we like about Mike in his 75^th year (to be completed by others on the blog):
1.    1, the rants (of course)
2.     2.the plantain breakfasts (of course)
3.     3.the turkey mole
4.    4. the inspirational guidance to aspiring young chefs
5.     5. his communion with Victor 

          6. his espresso (WHAT!? sugar! Hrrrumph)

          7. the gusto in which he embraced...everything. 
             (Anonymous)

2. 8. the logs he loves to move on the beach he loves to tromp across to get at them and the grimace he loves to make every time he lifts one.
   (Terence Young)

   
   

   9. his welcoming, generous and caring nature
   10. his honesty (whether we want his opinion or not
   11. his imagination and creativity
   (niece Leah, with love and admiration)

   
   
   12.The fact that he knows even less about septic tanks than me.
   (Dag Goering)

   
   

   13. his pruning technique (or, how not to be intimidated just because it’s bigger than you)
   14. his letters, and his insistence on writing them to a digital world
   15. the way his eyes light up just before an especially good rant
   16. his delight when you accept a second helping
   17. the comments he offered on my graduate English essays(with love, niece Darcy)

     

   
   

   18. the way he wouldn't dream of harvesting logs from across the invisible border on the beach: Those are Sprout logs! (we wouldn't have minded)

   (Frances Sprout)

   
   

   
   

   19.  the fact that he created a Fetish. To guard the house or maybe to protect his logs or keep his septic pump going or just because?
   20.  that he was delighted to receive 5 gallons of kidney beans for his birthday
   21.  he could rant and rave and yet be gentle in editing

   (Liz HK)

   
   

   
   

   22. his unbeatable homemade salsa

   23. his disdain for sentimentality

   24. his lavish improvidence

   25. his encyclopedic command of trivial facts

   26. his love of dimes because they fit so neatly into his coinsaver

   27. his utter lack of elitism, sexism, racism, or most other "isms"...though he does admire prisms.

   28. his magnificent collection of pens.  And glasses.

   (Carol & Alison) 

   
   

   
   

   
   

   

   29. His strength.

   
   

   
   
   
   
   

   

   30. His laugh.
   
   
   
   
   
   

   

   31. His tableaux - and the gusto he brings to all performances.

   
   

   
   

   
   

   

   32. His love of the arts, from the Bard, to basketball.

   
   

   
   

   
   

   
   

   

   33. The born teacher in him.

   
   

   
   

   
   

   

   34. His appreciation of the little things, as well as the big ones.

   
   

   
   

   
   

   

   35. Himself.
   
   

   (niece Lauren)


35. His disgust with the use of the word "multiple" or of any large word when a smaller one would do as well.
36. His big expressive hands, too large to be fitted with gloves.
37. His long arms that can reach the highest shelves
38. His long eyelases that he gave to his daughter and grandaughter
39. His dislike of anything cute
40. His love of everything grandly Mozartian

(Carol)

41. That he married Carol (I like this for two reasons. It demonstrates that he was smart enough to recognize what an amazing woman Carol is, and it made him part of our extended family)
42. That he and Carol raised an amazing daughter
43. The way his eyes light up when he talks about Charlotte
44. That his profound love for his family is evident in everything he says and does
45. That he has touched the lives of so many family members, friends, colleagues and students
46. That he is, without a doubt, leaving this world a better place than he found it
(niece Leah)

47. his no nonsense "stomp stomp stomp, splash" into the bay!
48. his subtle ;) warnings to my dog Henry about where each dog gets to go/bark where when visiting the bay.
49. his influence on my 10 year career as a bad ass chef!
50. that he shared his summer visitors with my little brother and me for years(and fed us, and made us feel pretty special)
(Megan Sprout)

51. His concern about dishes touching in the dishwasher.
52. "Smuggy, smuggy, smuggy!"

(son-in-law Alex)

 



…

A Crossword for Mike

Ok I know it isn't a challenging cross word, but defiantly a worth while one.  All of us here are sending lots of love to you and your family.

Love

Krista, Fredrik, Dexter, Lola and Ruby

Fw: O Teacher, My Teacher

A Message from Rhonda Lillard:

Hi Carol,

I don't think anyone has yet written about Mike's important work as a teacher, a role he threw himself into with all the characteristic traits already mentioned...gusto, glee, and grumpy grace. As just one of his hundreds (thousands?) of former students, I can attest to his greatness. We all have, if we're lucky, at least one teacher who really makes a difference. Mike was such a one for me.

Mike was my theatre instructor at Malaspina in the early 70s. Having already been a member of a small theatre group in Ontario, I thought I was pretty hip, but Mike imparted, as no other instructor before or after, the sheer magic of The Play. From Antigone to Uncle Vanya, he provided insightful background information and encouraged us out from our comfort zones to strut our stuff. I can still see him striding into the class (one of those dreadful portable classrooms at the Kennedy St. campus), ready to rock our complacent adolescent worlds.

I remember two particular shows that Mike directed. One was a modern-dress version of Moliere's "The Physician in Spite of Himself," in which Mike cast me (for reasons I now blush to think) as the wet-nurse. He and Carol have a photograph of me on stage in this production...with my big hair and short, tight nurse's uniform! (How much ransom $ for that photo, Mike?) And another memorable show was Dylan Thomas's "Under Milk Wood,"

which was eventually filmed, at the seaside, somewhere near Yellowpoint I think. I wonder if that film still exists in college archives?

Anyway, Mike was instrumental in my choosing to complete a BFA in Theatre at UVic, and while it's not been the most useful of undergraduate degrees, it has served me well in other walks of life. "All the world's a stage...(and I'm leaving on the next one.)"

If we're lucky, remarkable teachers can also become remarkable friends. To have never lost touch, after all these years, means a great deal. Thanks Mike. Thanks Carol.

My love to you both,

Rhonda

Frances's photo

Sunrise on Protection Island

Hi Carol,

Megan and I have both left comments on the blog earlier, but they may  
have been lost in the wonderful plenitude you and Mike have inspired.

I don't need this to be uploaded to the blog (unless you wish to do  
so), but thought you might find some small comfort in an image taken  
from our shared beach this morning.  We do miss seeing the lights on  
next door . . .

We'll be heading to Victoria on Saturday to talk wedding plans with  
Zach and Joey, but otherwise are available if you need anything  
brought over or want someone to check anything in the house. Just give  
us a call.

hugs to you and Mike
and a pat on the head to Victor (after the usual wary inspection, of course)
Frances

p.s. I hope you don't mind, but I ended up mentioning you and Mike  
(without names) on my blog this morning. If you're uncomfortable with  
that, I'll delete the post:
http://materfamiliasknits.blogspot.com/2012/02/another-day-begins.html

From Adrianne and Rick in Cambodia

Dear Carol,

I can imagine you are click, click, clicking through so many e-mails and here is one more. I just needed to write you again.  I truly wish I was there now but I will soon be home and be there with you. It is so hard to believe this is all happening.
 
The other day in the village a woman came to see us; she told us her story of how she had ten children and her husband drowned in the floods, she could not afford to bury him and so they put a rock around his waist and  sunk him in the Lake, she cried as she told us her story and my heart broke for her. We were able to help her with some thatch for her house and a fishing net so she could feed her children. I thought of myself and my loss and I thought of you and your loss and I thought of how loss has no culture and no boundaries. It also reminded me about how strong we are and how we can face losses even though we do not think it possible at times. I know you are facing this head on with courage and grace..just as Mike is.
 
We are off again tomorrow for another 7 hour journey. I am tired and wish I was home but I also know what we are doing here is helping many  people, the people in the village were at the clinic all morning getting medicine and getting help and we felt good that we could all bring this to such an isolated area. Thanks to you and Mike for always being such a part the work  here. Please tell Mike how much we have always appreciated his wonderful support. Please give him a hug from me.
 
Sending you love,
A