Cold weather, warm friends
11:40 a.m.
Today we lunch with Dave and Sylvie, friends with a strange and interesting history. I knew Dave ever so slightly when we were both students at Western. He was two years ahead of me, but we were in the same choral conducting class with my hero, D.J.J. I remember him as being a funny-looking guy, and a boy I dated for a while said he was a bit of a sourpuss. Unbeknownst to me, he had recently become very ill, taking all sorts of drugs to combat the symptom, arthritis, while unaware of the source of the trouble. Up to that point he had been perfectly healthy. This would make anyone become a sourpuss. The worst of the drugs, which he took for years, was prednisone, that puffer of faces and ruiner of immune systems.
He attended University of Michigan for a masters and doctorate in music theory, and we ended up there as well, the man doing his masters and doctorate in music composition. Countrymen tend to gravitate towards each other, and Canadians are no different. We became excellent friends. During that time, Dave figured out what was wrong with him after one doctor suggested it might be an allergic reaction he was having. He went on a �white� diet, rice only, slowing adding one food at a time and watching for a reaction. After much trial and error, and many terrible bouts of illness, he narrowed the culprit down to wheat. Eliminate the wheat, the arthritis disappears. For me it became a challenge to have Dave over for dinner and cook a delicious vegetarian meal without any wheat of any kind. My favourites were polenta pizza and spinach-ricotta pie with a cornflour crust.
Both he and the man graduated with their doctorates at the same time, and Dave got a job right away at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, teaching theory, where he is now a permanent member of the faculty. That was back in 1985. Since then he has gone on to write several well-respected books, he started up a computer music studio, and initiated a couse of study about Led Zeppelin (don�t ask). One day while checking out a book from the music library, he recognized the accent of the cute girl behind the desk as being distinctly French-Canadian, and introduced himself. Sylvie was doing her doctorate in piano accompaniment and came from no less an illustrious place than Sherbrooke, QC. Amazing! After a suitable courtship period, she and Dave wed, and now have two young boys. And because of her family, they come to town twice a year and always visit with us. This is really super, because we like them a lot and probably would never see them otherwise.
So today they are coming over here to inspect the new guitars, and then we shall adjourn to Shalimar for the buffet lunch (it being Friday and all), since today is a holiday and the other restaurants I phoned are either not open or are only serving supper. Oh, another deomonstration of how small the world is: Sylvie�s sister�s husband is our optometrist, who has one of his places of business in L�ville. The other day when I was in town with my daughter and Chris, who should I see coming out of the Royal Bank but Dave and Alain? Will wonders never cease?
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