Author Archives: L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.

About L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.

Past President, Mississippi Masonic Hall Inc.; Past Master (by demit) of Mississippi Lodge No. 147, A.F. and A.M., G.R.C. (in Ontario) Chartered by the Grand Lodge of Canada July 20, 1861; Don, Devonshire House, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario; Juris Doctor, Dalhousie Law School, Halifax, Nova Scotia; Bachelor of Arts (Philosophy), Glendon Hall, York University, Toronto, Ontario; Old Boy (House Captain, Regimental Sgt. Major, Prefect and Head Boy), St. Andrew's College, Aurora, Ontario.

Thanksgiving Day USA November 24, 2016

A glistening Thanksgiving Day on Hilton Head Island! Though I went to bed around midnight last night I was up before seven o’clock this morning, a tad earlier than normal.  My days of beating to the office before nine are long gone! As a rejuvenation I decided to launder my bed clothes and bath towels, etc. I tossed in the textile I had worn yesterday as well. The washer/dryer here is extremely efficient, it practically invites participation! Almost all my clothes are identical – three blue and white stripped Polo shirts, four white Polo shirts, 3 white smalls, two white shorts, 2 khaki shorts, a red and a black pair of synthetic shorts (for bicycling), 2 sets of three pairs of white socks. The cotton crewneck sweaters are red and grey (I would have a dark blue but they didn’t have my XXX size on my latest shopping spree).  I have two woollen sweaters for those chilly days in January (and one black Viyella cardigan that I’ll probably never wear here). Generally I look the same one day to the next. I only have one webbed belt.  My thinking is, if I need anything else, I’ll buy it. Generally every morning I wash whatever I wore the previous day though as I say, no one could tell, it all looks the same.

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New Bling

When I was speaking on the telephone this morning with my elderly mother – a communication I prosecute almost daily – she asked whether I was getting bored being on Hilton Head Island, bicycling every day, routinely contemplating the Atlantic Ocean, listening to the sea gulls and and the clack of empty oyster shells and lounging in the perpetual sunshine surrounded by Palmetto ferns.  I told her, “No!”  She laughed and seemed to agree, all but muttering as she has so often said before, “What’s not to like!”

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Tickle my Feet

I have always jokingly observed that I have a foot fetish.  Perhaps it is true though it’s not something about which I have consulted a professional.  I confess I rather like feet all other things being equal.  By that I mean I obviously only applaud the well-maintained and naturally crafted feet.  There are for example some dreadful renditions of feet caused by arthritis and neglect. Those poor feet are not what I’m talking about at all, not at all!

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Looking into the Sun

Hilton Head Island, South Carolina is remarkable for one thing in particular. Everything is at sea-level and everything about the sea is a reminder. For example fine white sand is ubiquitous, not just at the beaches but on the edges of the roads, in the parking lots, in one’s apartment or car, in your bicycle, clothes and hair. It’s everywhere! The sight of water is at every turn as well – whether the endless expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, the rushing streams of fresh water straits or lazy inland sea marshes. There is seemingly an everlasting sky and sunshine.  Maritime horizons are known to be boundless but living under a magnificent azure dome never ceases to impress.

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Alone again

There are few subjects more delicate than romance.  Yet when it comes to the liaison of others, parents, friends and perfect strangers liberally weigh in upon the matter often completely insensitive to the prickly issues at play. And the topic becomes even more fragile when broached within the context of on-line dating. Never having tried on-line dating – though I have heard anecdotal stories of both its successes and failures – it is for me peripheral to the essential query about how best to accommodate loneliness. I am assuming that if one is looking for romance then the object is to combat loneliness. It is the search for an idealized state involving two people.

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Mechanical Saturday

Much of what we traditionally do on Saturdays is performed as though by rote and as a result is hardly engaging. It was however with a degree of gusto this morning that I sprung myself from the downy lair. Though as usual I hadn’t slept particularly well last night – plagued as always by wacky anxiety about preposterous matters I can never recall the moment of awakening – I nonetheless greedily anticipated this morning’s foray upon the new day.

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Starting to Relax

Anyone who has ever taken a two-week holiday knows that it takes at least a week before you begin to relax.  There is often so much hype leading up to the vacation, and then the excitement of getting there, that it isn’t until you’ve managed to wear yourself down for the first week that you really start to enjoy yourself.  The hustle may involve getting to know the resort or the restaurants and staff or just establishing a new temporary routine. But it usually isn’t long before one adjusts and begins to soak in the goodness that was intended.

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Ignominious Sunday

Today is a nondescript Sunday though it is at least singular for that small compliment. Even the Ocean is grey.  The slate white sand on the beach has preserved a muted resonance but it certainly doesn’t glow as it normally would on a brilliant sunny day.  No matter.  It’s Sunday and no one appears anxious to be out-of-doors other than to perform the routine pet walk, a duty apparently relegated to old folks.  At least until Thanksgiving Weekend we’ve been spared the screams of children.  Meanwhile the Island has an insipid hollow feel to it.  Though there were a number of people on the tennis court when we began our bicycle venture around 12:30 pm there is otherwise a general lack of exuberance.  Passers-by don’t exactly scowl but there is a distinct lack of bonhomie, an uncharacteristic reservation.

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Retail Therapy

Refinement – apart from its industrial connotation (the removal of impurities) – is most often associated with people or things of elegance, which in turn betrays its cultured element and the insinuation of sophistication or urbanity.  The elucidation does not however capture the subtle element of discrimination which is evident in the rendition of something – whether spoken, acted or created – with utter simplicity and unaffected. Indeed with time I have acquired a sensitivity to things of refinement upon that level, plain but appealing. It can for example embrace the easy beauty of a young child with porcelain skin and swimming blue eyes; or a single red rose in a Lalique vase; perhaps a white sail boat in a spray of surf; maybe an elegant woman in a “little black dress”; even a weary athlete at the end of a race.  Uncomplicated beauty abounds to the educated eye!

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