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       38 More Lore from Bing

       39 Our Nutty Dentists

       40 Green Nile Compost

       41 Dr. Hartman Scuttles History

       42 Werstine and Herbert

       43 The Raid Next Door

       44 Alfie Lee

       45 History of Our Morale Decline — It Started in Hespeler

       46 The Ballet African

       47 The Foxy Lady

       48 Preston Hastens the Decline

       49 Sin on the Golden Mile

       50 Liberated Breasts

       51 The Good Guys Gangbuster Pickett

       52 The Royal Hespeler Constabulary

       53 Heartbreaking Arrest

       54 Safety Joe McCabe

       55 Len Gaudette — Another Good Guy

       56 The Piano Marathon

       57 The Wooden-Legged Goaltender

       58 Incidental Disasters — Hazel

       59 Punished for Rejecting Billy Graham

       60 The Discount Fire

       61 The Fireproof Inferno

       62 The Liberal Disaster

       63 The Indestructible Unsafe Bridge

       64 A Disaster for the Orange Lodge

       65 Great Moments in Medicine

       66 The Viagra Moment

       67 The G Spot Unleashed

       68 The Prostate — Piece of Cake

       69 Damn!

       70 The Geezer Squeezer

       71 Tiddly Anyone?

       72 Worst of All — M.S.UR.ATION

       73 Almost As Bad — M.DIC.T.ON

       74 Alternative Medicine’s Effect on World War II

       75 Maturity It’s Called

       76 The Devil’s Therapy

       77 Alternative Therapy — The Bass Drum

       78 The Beat Goes On

       79 Amazing Grace

       80 Super Seniors Pass the Torch

       81 The Inspiration of Art Wilson

       82 Ben Graham — Poet at Heart

       83 Historic Toilet Seat

       84 Victor’s Out the Window

       85 An Old Shaggy Drunk

       86 A Visit with Pratt

       87 Too Busy to Grow Old Quietly

       88 Janet of Swamp Angel Street

       89 Cliffhanging with IMAX

       90 Consider a Miracle

       91 Fearful Reverie

      Much gratitude to Robert Kerr and Graeme Ferguson, who dragged a neglected manuscript from my closet to be published for fun, glory, and mischief, and who knew where to take it. And thanks, too, to Anna Porter for liking the manuscript and giving advice and direction.

      I would also like to thank Jane Burnside for typing the revisions again and again; Don Burnside for keeping the computer going; Bill Taylor, my landlord, for the hickory firewood that warmed my trailer; Iris Mitten for food, shelter, and laughs when I broke my ankle; and Rose Orth for wisdom and stability.

      The preface — this thing — is the toughest part of a book to write because it has to account for what follows: the selection of personal experiences and the experiences of acquaintances, narrated without moral or political purpose, recalling, for fun more than anything else, the humorous side of solemn or outrageous events in the legends of small towns.

      I’ve used the real names of all persons involved which, I trust, will lend the stories some historical credence.

      Digressions, I must admit, became a problem. While trying to focus on local events, I wound up recounting the extraction of a beer glass from a man’s rectum in the emergency ward of a Toronto hospital, and the flight of a Salvation Army bass drum through the show window of a gay bar in San Francisco. However, digressions of this sort are unavoidable when one considers what mathematicians tell us — that all people and the events they are involved in are at most only six degrees removed.

      It’s the small-world effect. We are all connected, and I assume that the stories related here, if pursued further, would connect us to similar events and people in every small town and city in North America.

      Bob Green

       Cambridge, Ontario

       April 2006

      One August night in 1935 my mother said to me as she was putting me to bed, “I’ll wake you early in the morning and get you dressed —” something she did for the next twenty years “— and we’ll go outside for a big surprise.”

      Needless to say, she didn’t have to wake me in the morning. I lay listening to the robins chirp at the sunrise. I heard Pop drive off to work at Scott Shoe before seven. Mom didn’t give me a clue while we ate breakfast, but she kept looking out the window at the sky.

      “A lot of little airplanes circling up there,” she said. “They must be waiting for it.”

       It!

      I was soon outside with Mom and sister Shirley looking up at the little planes, standing with all our neighbours in the middle of Lowrey Avenue in Galt, Ontario. Someone hollered, “Here it comes!” The buzz of little airplanes faded beneath the drum of heavier engines. Everyone turned towards the treetops to the west and gasped. An enormous silver airship the size of an ocean liner slid directly overhead. It was the Graf Zeppelin.

      The famous German dirigible had been touring the United States, and this morning its flight from the Chicago World’s Fair to Toronto’s Canadian National Exhibition carried it right over our town. Sunlight glinted off its upper ridge and flickered off the long propeller blades of diesel engines slung below. A long gondola snug against the underside near the nose conveyed seventy notables of the Third Reich who peered down at us. I didn’t know this at the time but read it years later.

      When you are five, you totter in circles while staring up at the sky and tend to fall down. I remember doing this while holding on to my sister’s hand. The zeppelin’s huge tail fins stay in my mind. They were bright red and centred by white circles framing strange black hooked crosses. Swastikas. I didn’t want the airship to pass. I couldn’t see enough of it. But in two minutes it was gone, followed by the little airplanes. Then all was quiet and we stood and gazed at the empty sky for a long time.

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