A Write to be Wrong

Danny (October 21, 2016)
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Read Time16 Minute, 6 Second

Today is Monday morning, October 26th, and the internet in my neck of the world (Langley) is not working.

I planned to write a story about my twenty-year quest to brew the best cup of coffee ever (at home).

It is a story that’s been percolating inside my hollow head for months, but I haven’t been sure how to begin.

But this morning, I awoke with a thought for a story and quickly got dressed to begin my daily routine.

I went into the kitchen to boil the kettle to make my first cup of coffee.

What, you’re boiling the kettle to make instant coffee?  Excuse me?

Relax, Spanky.  I only use freshly ground coffee beans to make my coffee.

Instant coffee is like comparing Cheez Whiz with aged cheddar cheese.  There’s simply no comparison.

But I’m getting ahead of myself – let me get back to the obstacle of writing my story.

After making my coffee and nutritional shake, I went into the family room to watch the morning news.

We had a provincial election in British Columbia on the weekend, and I wanted to see the results.

I otherwise avoid watching the news or listening to the news because the world is becoming so stressed by the covid19 pandemic.

I looked at the clock, and it was 4:05 am.

Good, I thought, I’ll watch the football and the baseball games I taped from the night before.

PVR is the only way to view television – you can tape all of your favorite programs and then fast forward through all of the commercials and clutter.

I cannot imagine sitting through four hours of commercials and other annoying interruptions – just to watch a baseball or football game.

And sitting inside the house on a beautiful day – just to watch one of the World Series games (go Tampa Bay!) or a football game (go Seattle Seahawks!) is not a desirable option.

So, yes, I love my PVR.

And I love my first cup of coffee in the morning – but only after I finish feeding Holly and letting her outside to do her business.

By the way, I am the fool, standing at the patio door, in my pajamas, and freezing, while watching and waiting for Holly to find the perfect spot of lawn to pee.

But if I yell at her to hurry – she just stares back at me – as though to say:

Keep watching me, and I’ll make you wait even longer!

After finally coaching Holly back into the house with a treat, I grabbed my coffee, sat in my favorite chair, and turned on the boob tube.

I am not sure what mental giant decided to give television such a weird nickname as ‘boob tube,’ but that is a nickname that always used to make me chuckle, whenever I heard it.

It’s been many years since I have seen an actual ‘boob’ up close (due to my fourteen-years of celibacy), but I can’t remember ever seeing one that resembled a television.

But I was not chuckling when I read the message on my television.

It stated:

‘Signal loss detected.  Please check your cable connection or call Shaw at 1.888.472.2222.”

I have Shaw Cablevision as my internet, television, and phone provider, and not one of them is currently working!

Thankfully, my cellphone provider is not Shaw – although they have been trying to get me to subscribe to their mobile service, too!

I called Shaw and got a message with some menu options.

It instructed me to press ‘3’ for technical support.

But every time that I tried to input the number, it would send me to another menu – totally unrelated to technical support.

I redialed the number several times and finally got through to the technical department.

But a voice message instructed to either stay on the line and wait for between 35 and 45 minutes or leave a number where you can be reached.

I pressed the number of that option but was directed to another menu.

WTF a voice inside my brain screamed (or angry words to that effect)!

So, I decided to stay on the phone and wait for someone to physically answer the phone.

Elevator music began screeching in my ears and endangering my mental health, but I was afraid to mute the phone in case someone answered, and I would not be able to hear them.

So, for the next 38 minutes, I sat with Holly as she slept peacefully on the couch beside me.

I will never understand how she can sleep through all of the noise from the music on the phone and the stupid uttering of messages – every other minute – offering a better solution to dealing with my problems with Shaw – including many that suggested to contact them at Shaw.ca.

And how the heck are you supposed to contact Shaw.ca if there isn’t any internet?

So, you will have to wait until my Shaw.ca services are restored before I write my story about coffee.

In the meantime, I am going to drive to the Whitby Coffee House in White Rock to sip on a latte and use their Wi-Fi to continue to this story.

UPDATElater that day…

I arrived at the Whitby House at 2:30 pm and ordered a coffee.

I copied and pasted what I had written offline on a Word document to this page.

I’ll edit it later when I get home.

But rather than sitting here on a stool, in the warm sunlight that’s almost blinding me – I decided to just check my mail and calendar and then return home to be with Holly.

Hopefully, the internet service has been restored by the time I get home, but I doubt it.

Be sure to come back to read about my coffee research.

I am also thinking about regrowing a mustache for Movember.

Danny had a mustache from June 1969 – November 2019       (Selfie 2016)

My regular readers will remember that it was in November 2019 that I shaved off my mustache for the first time in over fifty years!

My gal pals tell me that having a mustache makes me look older, and my guy pals are betting that I’ll chicken out – so, I have until Halloween to decide whether to Mo-vember or to No-vember.

But if I do decide to grow it back – I will definitely shave it off on December 1st.

When I got home, the internet was still down, so I spent the afternoon playing with Holly outside and doing some yard work while listening to music.

The wifi was finally restored at 8:00 pm.  It had been down for more than 16 hours!

But I’ll continue writing in the morning.

It’s time to go to bed and dream about you.

Tuesday, October 27th

I almost forgot to mention that a few days ago, I drove to where my buddy Rob’s place was supposed to be but I could not find it, for the life of me.

Rob and I have been friends since 2007 when one of my buddies recommended him to me.  I had been searching for a barber to cut my hair for about two years – ever since I stopped going to Nick in Vancouver.

The friend who recommended him to me was Robert Mahe, who I had met on the film set of one of the short films I had a role in.

Robert was retired from the Vancouver Community College, where he was the department head of Hairstyling.  He also started a second career as an actor, after he retired.

A few years ago, I wanted to film a movie based on a screenplay I had written.  I shared the story with Robert and he agreed to partner with me in producing the movie.

Robert and I have been meeting every week for coffee ever since we met in 2007.

In 2017, I shot these selfie video clips of the two of us after a  few of our get-togethers:

Now, to me, barbers are like doctors or accountants – it is important to have one that you can trust.  I know that it might sound strange or vain but I have had some very bad haircuts in my day.

But barbers do more than just cut hair.

They listen to their customers’ stories – some that are funny and some that are sad.

But whatever is said in a barber’s chair – stays in the barber’s chair.  They should never betray your confidence.

It’s why I stopped going to Nick in 2004 – he betrayed my friendship.

So, I was so thankful that Robert referred me to Rob Kroeker in 2007.  It took almost three years of terrible haircuts before I sat in the Salt Lane Barbershop, on Salt Lane, in Langley. BC.

Oops – I’ve got another appointment – must go now.

I’ll continue the story about driving my buddy Rob to the hospital this morning when I get back later today.

To be continued.

Wednesday, October 28th

Well, I’m back and I’m sorry for keeping you waiting for an update.

One of my readers commented on Facebook that the story is long but where is the part about the coffee?

I think she might not have read the last line ‘To be continued’ but then again, maybe she’s Spanky’s sister or cousin and is trying to pull my leg.

In any event, the coffee story will follow this one and it will probably be posted tomorrow or Friday.


So, getting back to yesterday’s excitement – it actually began on Sunday.

Rob, my barber, had a recent health scare.

Several months ago, he was experiencing stomach pain and thought it might be an ulcer, so he made a doctor’s appointment and after a colonoscopy, a large tumor was found and removed from his colon.

I’m not sure but I think Rob mentioned that the tumor was the size of a baseball – and the surgeon was worried that they might not have gotten everything removed – so he told Rob that he’d probably have to undergo a colonoscopy every 6 months for an indefinite period of time.

A few weeks ago, when I was getting my haircut, Rob mentioned that he had the first follow-up colonoscopy scheduled for October 27th, and he had to be at the hospital by 7:00 am.  He seemed worried.

I immediately offered to drive Rob to the hospital.  He tried to talk me out of it but he’s always been there for me – and the bottom line is – he’s my friend.

Not only that but during my cancer treatments in 2009, when I was confined to bed for months, Rob called me at home to ask if I wanted him to come over to cut my hair.

I had only been a customer of Rob’s for two years, yet he was so supportive – he seemed like family to me.

A few years after my cancer treatments had ended, I began to volunteer at the cancer center where I was treated.

The volunteer person who trained me was Norm Wolff and we’ve been best buddies ever since.

I wrote about Norm in a story several years ago.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that Norm Wolff has been going to Rob since Rob became a barber decades ago.

What a small world.  But it seems that my life has been full of surprises and coincidences.

Norm, Dorean and I went to Rob’s father’s funeral a couple of years ago.  Norm and Rob’s father were best friends.

By the way, Norm is one of my two best friends with the same first name.

The other is Norm Colon, who lives in Fairhaven, Washington.  I often refer to him as the southern Norm.

Both Norm’s have had cancer – with Norm Wolff’s cancer in remission.

I love both of these Norms – I often tell them that they are the older brother that I always wanted.

I have been blessed with great friends.


So, last Sunday, I decided to drive to Rob’s home for the first time, to make sure that I got to know where he was located because it’s very dark at 6:30 am and I promised him that I would be there – without fail – by 6:45 pm.

And although I was up at 3:30 am, because I was afraid that I would sleep in and be late to pick Rob up.  I had several coffees and then at about 6:20 am, I drove to Rob’s place.

Although I’ve mentioned that Rob is a good friend, I have never been to his home and he’s never been to mine.

Come to think about it, I don’t know where many of my friends actually live.

And when Rob gave me the directions to his place, I wrote them on a piece of paper – but knew I wouldn’t need them because I have an uncanny ability to find my way without the need for maps.

I got this skill from my buddy Dale Fraser, a self-employed businessman and engineer by trade.

He and I used to travel to the stock car races in Maine, and New Hampshire.  Our wives sat in the back while Dale and I took turns driving.

We often got lost but would never admit it to the girls.  We would simply explain that we were taking a shortcut route.

So on Sunday, when I decided to do a practice run to Rob’s home, I forgot to put his address into my GPS device but wasn’t worried because I had the address.

On Monday, I called Rob and explained that I had driven to his place on the day before to make sure I knew where he was located.

Rob was impressed that I went to the trouble but I explained that I am paranoid about being late for an appointment – especially after giving my word that I would be on time.

On Tuesday morning, I pulled up to the townhouse at about 6:35 am and noticed that there was a light on in one of the windows, so I figured that he was still getting dressed.

But at about 6:50 am, he still hadn’t come outside, so I phoned him.

And he was calling me at the same time, so I answered his call.

Where are you, Dan?

I was going to chuckle and tease him but he sounded concerned.

Well,  buddy, I’m sitting right outside your townhouse, patiently waiting for you.

No, you aren’t!  I’m standing outside and have been here for the past several minutes!

I swallowed hard.

OMG!  What have I done?

Rob, I’m so sorry – I thought this was your place.  Don’t hang up – stay on the line – and I’ll get you to give me directions again.

To make a long story even longer – I had gone to the wrong townhouse complex.  Rob’s was the one across the street and when I finally got to his place it was already 6:58 am and we were at least 15 minutes away from Langley Memorial Hospital.

I was so upset, my hands were shaking.  But Rob was completely calm by now.

He explained that the colonoscopy wasn’t until 8:00 am but they wanted him there at 7:00 am.

So, on the way to the hospital, we even stopped at a convenience store to pick up a newspaper for Rob to read while he’s waiting for the procedure.

I dropped him off at the hospital and spoke with one of the attendants who confirmed that visitors aren’t allowed during the pandemic.

Rob said that a nurse would call me when he was ready to be picked up.

We did an elbow bump and I wished him luck.

But I was afraid for my friend.

I hate people being sick.  And I know if you knew Rob, you’d want him as a friend, too!

A couple of hours later, the hospital called and said I could come to pick Rob up now.  She instructed me where to park and that I could come right into the unit where he was located.

Rob was asleep when I got to his bedside and I gave a shout to wake him.

I was really worried about him and I was almost afraid to ask how it went.

But I did.

Rob said the surgeon had just seen him and told him that he wouldn’t have to come back for another procedure for 3 years because there wasn’t a trace of anything present!

In fact, the surgeon was amazed that the area where the large tumor had been removed earlier – was completely healed and that it was almost impossible to tell that there had been any signs that surgery had been done.

We were both thrilled at the news and we high-fived each other.

On the way home, I told Rob that Norm and his wife Dorean had told me that they were praying for Rob.  In fact, I’m sure that all of Rob’s family and friends were thinking of him yesterday.

I’m going to call Norm and Dorean to let them know that Rob’s okay now.

Meanwhile, here’s a video clip of Rob and me, a few years ago:


On Friday, I will be driving to Port Moody, to pick up my buddy Robert to drive him to the hospital in Burnaby to have a procedure done on his eyes and I need to be at his place by 6:00 am.

I’m an early riser and I look forward to these early morning excursions.

Tomorrow, I was planning to go for a walk with Vancouver ‘Venturers – my walking club, but Sannie called and we are going to meet for lunch, instead.

I’ll write about the coffee story when I get back from lunch.

Oh, and thanks for reading my stuff.

Dedicated to Rob Kroeker

I hope my stories are a gift to your head and heart.



Click on this Index to view my 210+ stories.

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

Don’t Let the Old Man In – lyrics

Don’t let the old man in
I wanna leave this alone
Can’t leave it up to him
He’s knocking on my door

I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

He rides up on his horse
And you feel that cold bitter wind
Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

Songwriters: Toby Keith
Don’t Let the Old Man In lyrics © Tokeco Tunes

About Post Author

Daniel (Danny) St. Andrews

An almost famous Film, Television & Stage Actor (as in almost pregnant) living in Vancouver, BC His other passions include cancer patient advocate (he had stage 3 throat cancer), walking with the Vancouver 'Venturers Walking Club, and of course, spoiling his dog, Holly Golightly. If you like the stuff he writes about - please leave a hug (or a comment).
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By Daniel (Danny) St. Andrews

An almost famous Film, Television & Stage Actor (as in almost pregnant) living in Vancouver, BC His other passions include cancer patient advocate (he had stage 3 throat cancer), walking with the Vancouver 'Venturers Walking Club, and of course, spoiling his dog, Holly Golightly. If you like the stuff he writes about - please leave a hug (or a comment).

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3 thoughts on “A Write to be Wrong

  1. Everytime you mention your mustache, I chuckle remembering the drive from Ft. Worth to Dallas with Harold and Bob. When you showed Bob your picture and he wanted to know you it was. All because of your mustache.

    1. Yes, Andy, that was a great night at Billy Bobs Bar in Ft. Worth. I think that it was the largest standup bar in the USA at the time. I also remember Bob making the comment – during the taxi ride back during a major rainstorm. When i showed Bob the poster of me dressed like Indiana Jones – he scoffed at me and said that guy is not you – he’s got a mustache! I then pointed to my ancient mustache and asked ‘what do you call this?’ Thanks, for reminding me about that great business trip. Hugs

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