Saturday, March 25, 2006

My Father's Obituary

Glen Charles Lett
LETT _ GLEN CHARLES October 10, 1928 - March 8, 2006 Glen Lett of Camrose passed away on the evening of March 8, 2006 at the age of seventy-seven years, after a private, courageous battle with leukemia. Glen Lett was the third son of Thomas Benjamin and Maryanne Lett. Glen was predeceased by his parents, brothers Howard and Don, and son-in-law Philip Norman. Glen leaves to mourn his wife and sweetheart of fifty-four years Audrey; his children and grandchildren, Ron Lett of Vancouver and his children Robyn, Ryan, and Tara Lett, Sherry (Neil Alstad) of Sexsmith and their children Daniel, Amanda, and Benjamin Alstad; Patricia Lett of Claresholm and her children Blake, Reide, and Adrienne Norman, Richard Lett (Leanne Padgett) of Vancouver and his daughter Breanna Lett; grand-niece Sonya; numerous nieces and nephews; and many friends and neighbors. Glen began his life in Drumheller and spent most of his childhood in Lac La Biche. He was fiercely proud of his Irish heritage and of being Canadian. He attended the University of Alberta where he met Audrey and graduated with a B.Ed. and B.A. Audrey and Glen married and began their teaching life together at Lake Saskatoon in 1951. He was principal for all but four years of his thirty-five year teaching career in Wembley, Hythe, Grande Prairie, Claresholm, Medicine Hat, and Camrose. He took great pride in Camrose Composite High School and was principal there from 1969 - 1986. During his teaching career he had drama clubs, coached basketball, marked grade twelve diploma exams, and earned his Master's Degree in Ed. Admin. from the University of Montana in 1969, and mentored many beginning teachers. He also taught Ed. Admin. for ten years at Camrose Lutheran College (compulsory course of B.Ed. students). To his great delight, his children all graduated from university, something he always told them they would. He continued to follow the grandchildren as they progressed through school and their various activities. He was their biggest fan and cheering section. After retirement from teaching, he ran and was elected to the Camrose School District Board to continue serving Camrose students from 1986 - 1994. With pride Glen addressed any former students he met and continued to get updates on their lives, families, marriage, children, and education, all of this interested him. Glen approached life with a positive, cheerful, infectious enthusiasm. He was a charming gentleman that always expected the best. He left this world peacefully surrounded by the love of his family. Those wishing to pay their respects may do so on Tuesday, March 14, 2006 at 7:00 p.m. from Burgar Memorial Chapel. A family Inurnment will take place in the Camrose Cemetery at 10:30 a.m. Funeral Services will be held on Wednesday, March 15, 2006 at 1:00 p.m. from Messiah Lutheran Church in Camrose with Rev. David Eriksson officiating. Memorial donations are gratefully accepted to the Canadian Network for International Surgery (#205-1037 W. Broadway, Vancouver, BC, V6H 1E3) Messiah Lutheran Church, or the charity of one's choice. Burgar Funeral Home Camrose in care of arrangements. 780-672-2121 "Serving your community since 1906"
Published in the Vancouver Sun on 3/14/2006.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Beachcombers on the Prairies

I finally forced myself to watch an entire episode of Corner Gas. I realize now how insulting my joke of calling it Beachcomber's on the Prairies is. Insulting to the Beachcombers. The poetess complained relentlessly that I turn it off, but I wanted to see how bad it could get. (Her complaint is every character is the same and they all use that hick canadian accent, eh.)She finally put on earphones to block it out. But it was so corny and lame. All the characters seem to have Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and the story lines are a well worn as my 501's. The big running gag was that somehow, they had lost the lost and found box. Get it, something that you use to put things that are lost, was lost! The cops decided to try zucchini muffins instead of donuts, but decided to replace the zucchini with chocolate. That's right - a cop/donut joke. And the husband and wife (institutions Eric Pederson and Janet Wright, who apparently by law must be in every Canadian series) - well they were in conflict because the dad was incapable of choosing a good anniversary gift for his long suffering wife. And poor Lacey (bravely played by my friend and Co-VanGogh Talent Client Gabby Miller) was trying to buy a car with the help of Brent Butt, who had plenty of advice about how to stand up to car salesman, but he turned out, (are you ready... sitting down) to be a pushover!! Hilarious. I met Brent's brother in law the other day, and he told me the show is popular in Toronto. Well that explains it.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Happy Birthday to Me

Some birthdays are bigger than others. 46 is one I would say is kinda non-descript. Yesterday I got a message on my cell phone from Telus, wishing me happy birthday a day early. Which is creepier, having Telus pretend to care about me, Telus telling me they know everything about me, including how much I owe, or Telus getting it wrong. I hate Telus.

I also am just getting over a nasty flu. What a March!

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Personal reflections

What follows is the speech I gave at my father's memorial. My brother gave a eulogy which detailed my fathers many accomplishments and then it was my job, as always, to lighten the mood. My nephews and niece began the service by playing Pacobell's Canon on violins and a cello, so I began by saying that my father was always one to do things a little in appropriate, like applauding in church, and he never would allow his grandchildren to go without applause, so please join me in applauding the playing of the canon. Then I said this.Leave them wanting more.

All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. We strut and fret our hour upon the stage and then are heard no more.

If, as Shakespeare says, a man’s life is a play, than my father’s life was an epic, romantic adventure at first, as heroes from the the mean streets of Lac La Biche to win the hand of a powerful man’s daughter.

Four plot twists (in eight years) later, and his story turned forever into a comedy. I made my entrance last, 46 years ago this month. Family music was big for us then, and I made my public debut in “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic” when I was so fat I couldn’t sit up (isn’t that how the story goes Patti?) What is rarely included in the story is that I was three months old at the time. As you can see, I am quite capable of sitting up now.

Music festivals, drama festivals, piano, school: all in the shadow of my siblings. My brother followed a path my father made to Africa where his efforts in the field of medicine and his improvement of the health and lives of countless people would humble anyone, let alone the little brother. My sister Sherry, who emulates my father’s great skill of teaching, and my partner in crime Patti, or rather Patricia, who has been compiling photographs (and I invite you all to see them at the luncheon afterwards) – both who are the glue that holds the family together, simply by keeping the most embarrassing stories of our family alive in there retelling. To them I owe a debt of gratitude for simply dropping their lives to care for my father when he needed it most. No words can express my gratitude, but I will try; thank you.

One summer we took a five-week vacation to Europe, and I am convinced that somehow it inspired the national Lampoon movie, “European Vacation”, and Chevy Chase’s universal dad Clark Griswald. It was on that vacation that Sherry hired me to carry her luggage for five weeks for one thousand lire. I thank her for demonstrating the level of wage I could come to expect as a Canadian entertainer.

Not only were we performing regularly, but we were being exposed to the finest theatre that the world had to offer. From the opera “Aida” in the Roman Ruins, Shakespeare’s Henry the Fifth in Stratford… Upon Avon, Broadway, the west End of London where we saw Henry Fonda, Jimmy Stewart and Sir Alec Guinness. And of course, The Citadel, The Vancouver Playhouse or any other theatre in Canada you care to mention.

When I look back at that time I wonder how my father managed to be surprised that I would pursue a career in the arts. When I went off to the Drumheller drama school one summer, his biggest concern was that I would come back calling it “Drawmah”. If he didn’t agree with my chosen profession, he hid it well, attending as many shows of mine as he could. I am not alone in this, as any of his grandchildren can attest to his presence in the audience – no matter how small the part. “There are no small parts” he would say. “But dad, it’s only one line.” “Well, I just won’t say anything then!”

I am blessed that in the last year he was able to see me perform stand-up comedy, and come out to Vancouver to see a play I directed.

But he had an instinct; a gift for making shows work. He took hundreds of the grungiest kids you can imagine (present company excluded), put them on the stage and made them shine. Watched them glow in the applause of accomplishment. The laurel of affection and praise sat awkwardly on my father’s shoulders. He stood back so others could take the bows and receive the ovations.

He always said “Leave a party when it’s fun.” “Always leave them wanting more”. Well he did that. Left us before we wanted him to. A play, a show, a life, a man who gave so much to so many, left us wanting just a little bit more.