Saturday, 27 April 2013

It's all Marty's fault

It took 25 years, but my buddy Marty Forbes finally  agreed to do something with Tait Talk.

The first time I called Marty with the idea was 1988 when I was staying at the Pan Pacific Hotel in Vancouver.

Somehow, I got into little screw-top bottles with my favorite adult beverage.

Marty was program director of KISS FM in Vancouver.

I was writing a daily editorial on K-97 called Tait Talk,  but it had a different slant.

I have cerebral palsy and don’t speak that clearly. I always wanted to be in the radio business, but my voice didn’t let me.

So I wrote the copy. And announcers Randy Kilburn, Robin Allen and Barrie Harrison (shown bellow) read my words.

The focus of the show was to create awareness about people with disabilities.

I always wanted to take it to a national level.

So I called Marty, that afternoon in Vancouver, and pitched the idea.

There was a long pause at the end of the phone line.

“It might not work here in Vancouver,” Marty said, which was a nice way of saying ‘have some more fun with the little screw-top bottles.'

So I did.

Then, on Thursday, Marty and I had lunch with Bryn Griffiths at Ruth’s Chris in Edmonton.

“Why aren’t you writing a blog?” Marty asked, in that tone of voice that tells me I should know better.

Frankly, I did not have an answer.

I’ve been writing newspaper columns since 1979 for the Edmonton Journal, but a blog?

I’ve been humming and hawing.

Marty reminded me of how fortunate I am to meet hundreds of people in Edmonton who have great stories to tell.

So we’re going to do that. In fact, I have one in coming up about my son Darren and Mr. Hockey, Gordie Howe sharing a great moment in west Edmonton Friday.

We might even have a few opinions on things in Edmonton. I hear they are building a new arena in town …

And we will also share some tender moments.

Marty looked up from his Rueben Sandwich.

“Why don’t you call it Tait Talk?” he said — and then offered to set things up for me.

So here we go.

And I will try to stay away from little bottles with screw-tops.

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