Al Zylstra

I gotta tell you something: This virus SUCKS! It brings out the best in some people and the worst in others. From hoarding toilet paper to trying to sell PPE stuff at ridiculous prices – trying to gouge the most vulnerable of us just makes me so angry. One of the biggest things that bugs me right now is the culture of disposable stuff. On my walk this morning, I started taking pictures of the number of single use gloves that were just tossed aside. It galls me!

DO BETTER FOLKS!

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Week three of self-isolation is pretty much the same as Week two which is the same as Week one. It has been interesting, to say the least. Alex and I have been spending a lot of time on the house and the yard. Alex has been planting and cleaning up all the flower beds and it has been extraordinarily therapeutic for him.

He does spend a lot of time by himself at home because I worked A LOT. I was constantly out and about at IRIS, Pets First, East Side ReRides and theatre obligations. For him, this isolation has been a cakewalk. For me, not as much. I am still managing to keep myself occupied.

As per usual, I have been taking pictures on some of my walks to document some of the more interesting, beautiful, obscure and weird things I see on my walks with the boys.

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Well, here it is, week 2 and I am officially going a bit stir-crazy. On the plus side, I haven’t gained any additional weight. I am still taking the dogs for two to three walks a day – averaging about 10 km a day (maintaining social distancing, of course).

My sojourns have resulted in some additional photos that struck my fancy or funny bone.

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So, here it is, day 7 of my isolation. Just wanted to give everyone an update:

Alex and I are healthy. We have been doing our utmost to avoid all contact with everyone outside of each other. Grocery shopping has become a war campaign: The car is armed with our lone bottle of Hand Sanitizer. We also have disinfectant wipes at the ready. We plot out EXACTLY what we need and where we are going to get in and out as quickly and efficiently as possible.

We still take the boys out for walks three times a day. Our morning walk usually consists of our regular routine. I wait until 7:00 am now before venturing out but, we still walk for almost an hour. We try to stay to regular routes.

What has now differed is that I try to take a picture every day on our routes – something that strikes my fancy or catches my eye.

I am going to try and find interesting stuff every day on my walks. It is definitely going to help keep me occupied.

So, there’s this nasty virus making its way around the world. It is contagious and is spreading. Nations around the world are struggling to get the infection rate under control. One of the simplest ways to bring this disease under control is to “flatten the curve”. This also means that any number of things have to happen including: social distancing, washing your hands (who would have thought we would have to spell this one out to people?) and shutting down facilities where large numbers of people congregate. This includes things like gyms, community centres and unfortunately, community theatres.

This makes me so sad. The cast and crew have worked so hard on this production. This is one that I am especially proud to be associated with. The story resonates with me in so many ways and on so many levels.

We are on a self-imposed hiatus until March 29, when the cast, crew, and board of Vagabond Players will meet to determine when (or if) the show will air. During that time, we will monitor the situation closely with regards to levels of transmission and infection.

In the meantime, I urge anyone who reads this blog post to follow simple steps:

1. Wash your hands
2. If you exhibit any symptoms, seek medical help immediately
3. Exercise Social Distancing (see above)
4. Wash your hands
5. Avoid large groups
6. Wash your hands
7. Don’t be a panic buyer – leave some toilet paper, hand sanitizer and tomato sauce for others.

So, I know I am most likely going to be mocked for this but, I am sad today. We lost another member of our family last night.

We have had this little beauty for almost 6 years. During that time, she grew from the size of a looney to the size of a baseball. She never complained and just spent her life just being. In the last year, she developed a number of infections which I fought to cure. I spent hundreds of dollars on medications on her (whatever you do, don’t tell Alex that).

I thought we had turned the corner on her maladies last month when she began to swim erratically again. She would lie on the bottom of the tank upside down fighting to breathe. She would rally and start to swim upright again only to succumb to the effects of her maladies. Last night, it just got to be too much for her.

We will bury her in our backyard along with Lucky – our budgie and Caramel – our lion head bunny.

I will miss her.

5 years ago today, I lost one of my best friends and my staunchest supporter in my family. I want to share my eulogy to her with you.

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So, we are here today to celebrate the life of my sister.  Wow, never thought those words would be coming out of my mouth.

To try and sum up her life in just a few words is impossible, but, I am going to try.

Anna was an intensely private individual.  She rarely showed what was truly going on in her life.  But, when she let you in, you were in her life forever or at least until you pissed her off….

My earliest memories of Anna were when (and I am regaled with this tale by my mother on many an occasion) I was very young.  Apparently, I was angry with everyone at home and decided I was going to run away.  So, mom packed up a lunch for me, gave me my favourite blanky and my teapot (I have no idea why a teapot, but, what the heck… shades of my future self perhaps?), a fistful of pennies, a sandwich and some koolaid.  And off I went.  I didn’t wander far, just around the block, as I knew I wasn’t allowed to cross the street.  I eventually came home, but I am told just for refills….

Anna had to follow me from a discreet distance and make sure that nothing ever happened to me.

That is who my sister was:  She was my protector.

Anna was funny.  When I was 10 or 12 years old, the family went on one of the BHUTAN DEATH MARCH vacations.  You know the type of trip I am talking about?  The trip where the family patriarch gathers kith and kin into the car at the crack of dawn and begins the never-ending journey to wherever it was that we were going at break-neck speed just to see if he could beat the traffic.  You needed a bathroom break?  Hah! We just had a break when we filled up for gas 5 hours ago.  And you need to go AGAIN?  Hungry?  Eat some beef jerky that we scored at the last gas station.  Carsick?  Meh, just roll down the rear window of the station wagon and let ‘er rip on the car following too close behind (that did actually happen to me).

But, I digress.  We were eventually in Disneyland:  The Magic Kingdom.  The land of eternal joy for kid and adults alike. Unknown to us, it was also the land of pervs dressed in costumes.

Anna, being young and pretty caught the eye of one lecherous looking Goofy.  He proceeded to chase her around the parking wanting a “Hug”.  Anna wanted none of it.  She started darting around people, screaming “Mother” at the top of her lungs all the while Goofy was lurching after her, arms open.  Eventually, she lost him in the crowd and I sat there and laughed, as this was the funniest thing I had ever seen.  She got her revenge on me, though by dragging me on to the Matterhorn.  And thus began my life long fear of amusement park rides.  Thanks, Sis.

Anna was my cohort at family functions.  Case in point:  when my aunt would come to a Zylstra family function, she would often zero in on a family member who had somehow given her a self-perceived slight at some point in time between these visits.  That person would be cornered at some point in the evening and my aunt’s ginsu-sharp tongue would leave her victim in a pile of blubbering mess on the floor.

One year, it was my turn.  

As I walked in the door from my flight from Vancouver, Anna grabbed me, a bottle of Black Tower wine (Yes, black Tower…) and we hid in the basement until my aunt left.  We sat there in the semi-darkness, giggling and passing the wine back and forth daring each other to go and find my aunt.  My aunt would eventually give up and went home.  A major tongue lashing avoided.

Anna was my confidante.  When I was struggling to accept who I was, she was the first family member I talked to. She merely hugged me and told that it was okay.  She still loved me and nothing would change that.  With that simple statement, I felt like I could breathe.  If Anna could accept me, then everything else in the whole world could suck and I would still be okay.

Anna was the first family member I introduced Alex, my husband to.  Back in June of 2003, we made the treacherous journey from Vancouver to Edmonton to meet the family (insert dramatic music here)… The first person we saw was Anna.  We met for coffee when Anna was still working at West Edmonton Mall.

After a very friendly coffee, I excused myself to go to the bathroom and she looked over at Alex and said with nary a thought, “You’re a couple, aren’t you?”  Alex answered quickly, “Yes” and with that, she hugged him, welcomed him warmly into the Zylstra fold and told him she was “glad that Al had someone in his life, finally.”

When Alex and I decided to get married, Anna was the first family member we told.  She was thrilled for us.  Almost as much as we were.

Anna was smart, funny, brave, considerate and stubborn.  And she could fight the best of us.  When the Zylstra men got into our usual Christmas Eve family gatherings, or as I liked to call them, “the WWE Main Event”, the discussions were frank, loud (really loud) and passionate.  We argued over politics, religion, politics, news, politics, human rights, politics…. Did I mention “Politics”?

When the arguments became too much for Anna, she would call on us to stop being so “REDUNDANT”.  I am not sure if she knew what “redundant” meant.  But, the over-riding thought was for us to stop being juvenile, argumentative and just get along.

Redundant.  A good word and one she used a lot.  The real meaning of the word redundant is:

1. Characterized by verbosity or unnecessary repetition in expressing ideas.
2. Being in excess; exceeding what is usual or natural
3. Having excess or duplicate parts that can continue to perform in the event of malfunction of some of the parts.
4. Being characterized by redundancy; being predictable.

So, I am going to tell you today in Anna’s words: Don’t be REDUNDANT.

Don’t go through the rest of your life being unnecessarily repetitive.  Say it once and MEAN IT.

Don’t be a duplicate, a copy of everyone else.  Be unique.  Be yourself.

Matter to someone….anyone!

Don’t be predictable.  Shake up your life and make it matter.

So, by now most of you are aware that I have ended my relationship with the Metro Theatre. I was sad to go but, it was the right decision for me. As soon as news got out that I had left, I was contacted by my good friend, Miles who put me in contact with Vagabond Players in New Westminster.

I am now stage managing for Vagabond Players. What a great opportunity. I look forward to a long and productive relationship with this group.

Vagabond Players is the oldest community theatre in British Columbia. The origins of the society go back to 1922 with the Unity Club at St. Aidan’s Church. In 1937, the members of this club formed the current society, picking the name “Vagabond Players” to avoid their being confused with the St. Aidan’s youth group and because they didn’t have a permanent home for their productions. In 1950, the City of New Westminster furnished the Vagabond Players with its current home, which was a run-down former Fisheries Provincial Exhibition Building. Initially intended for theatre storage, the members of the club decided to fix the building up as a theatre, and in January 1951 the first production, Strange Bedfellows, was staged.

During the past 80 years, the Society has presented over 350 productions, including many classics and premieres of locally written plays. Several well known people have trod these boards including Dolores Kirkwood, Ed Harrington, Bruno Gerussi, Bernie Legge, and Raymond Burr. Constant improvements have been made to the theatre over the years, all done through the volunteer efforts of members of the club with assistance from the City of New Westminster. The jewel of a playhouse you see today is the result of thousands of hours provided by several generations of Vagabonds all totally committed to the theatre that they love.

And here is my newest project: Next Fall

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Preview(opens in a new tab)

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It was 18 years ago today that I met the man I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. He has been my staunchest supporter, my partner in crime, my rock, my everything.

I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t tell him often enough how much he means to me. I do, however, regale him with tales of the nature, consistency, texture, frequency and format of our dogs’ bowel movements on a daily basis. If that ain’t love, I don’t know what is.

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That is all. Just miss my mom.

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