KEEP THE FAITH AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

TIME TO GIVE PEACE ANOTHER CHANCE!

TIGER GETS YANKED AGAIN!

AND TO ALL, A GOOD NIGHT!

MINGLING OVER CLIMATE CHANGE!

RIDING OFF INTO THE SUN-SET: FORGIVE ME MY PRESS PASSES!

Mayor George Peary handled criticism from the media and cheap seats with class, promising to right the ship once everyone around his council table gets on board. He's a great leader and a former great teacher-principal. Abbotsford has one of the best new hospitals and cancer centres in Western Canada thanks to his tireless lobbying and dedication. I will miss covering his city and hearing his talks and great quotes!


Forgive me my press passes, dear readers, for taking a few liberties with my allotted space this week. In fact, My Two Bits has runneth way over. I promise it won’t happen again.
Profit flags at Mt. Lehman coffee and doughnut shops are likely lowered to half-mast today – the writer and editor who has earned such loving nicknames from respected rivals as The Teflon Cowboy (doesn’t stick), Boomerang (sucker keeps coming back) and Nomad Gordy (always on the move) is done. Tear off the Velcro on the old business card and load up the U-Haul.
So why am I so emotional today when I’ve gotten so good at goodbyes? Permit me to rewind.
I was 16 and dumped by my first real girlfriend. She left me for an older guy with a job, a car, good looks, money and no school-night curfew. What the heck was she thinking, eh?
We didn’t have cellphones, text messaging or e-mail back then. She just handed me a crumpled piece of paper in the school hallway. I opened it in English class and immediately went numb.
Fighting back tears, I wrote a note that was as raw and as real as you would expect in that fragile moment. Life can be so cruel to a broken-hearted teen.
My English teacher at Yorkton Regional High School was Ruth Jolson and she had the heart of Mother Teresa. But she wasn’t big on students wasting valuable class time.
She saw me out of the corner of her keen eye scribbling on paper when I was supposed to be listening to her lesson du jour. She walked over and asked me to read whatever important thing I was writing to the rest of my Saskatchewan classmates. I objected, so Mrs. Jolson politely lifted the paper off my desk and began reading it out loud. Some tears began to flow around the room as she realized this literature wasn’t for public consumption. She stopped and asked me to stay after class.
When the bell rang and students fled for freedom, Mrs. Jolson closed the door and gave me a big hug and apologized. We both cried. She offered encouragement when all seemed lost.
“You really should be a writer. That was one of the most beautiful things I have ever read. You really have a way with words.”
Three years later I wrote my first column for Yorkton This Week. Mrs. Jolson sent me a note that I treasured and saved with early newspaper clippings: “Congratulations on your article. You made me smile and you made me so happy. Use your gift wisely, never give up and dream big!”
Mrs. Jolson passed away in March 1981, while at work. Today the best high school in Canada presents the Ruth Jolson English Medal during its annual graduation ceremonies. It is one award I’d love to hand out before I die just to let the recipient know how special the teacher was and how much that award really means.
I’d like to thank Mark Rushton, Randy Blair, Duane Geddes, Rod Thomson and Fred Armstrong for giving me the special privilege over the years to write and work in Abbotsford and Mission.
Randy and Rod – two of the bright minds in the business – gave me more than one chance. I’m sure they still blame me for their premature grey hairs and nervous twitches!
The next Times’ editor will be lucky to have a publisher with a good heart and who fully understands we all have good days and bad in this pressure-packed gig.
The bonus is Fred also tolerates bad jokes. In my reign here, he was King of the Peardonville Palace, while I was the Prints of Pun. OK, blame me for the extra grey hairs under his crown, too!
The new editor will also be fortunate to work with editorial director (a.k.a. Super Woman) Marlyn Graziano, who deals with all the company’s excitable editors while her own son serves our country in Afghanistan. Talk about real super heroes.
I have been fortunate to call Abbotsford home for nearly half of a 30-plus year media career that included coffee consumption in Toronto, Calgary, Vancouver and Kamloops.
I have worked here when we were known as Abbotsford-Sumas-Matsqui, the Bible Belt, The Murder Capital of Canada, Gangland, No-Fun City and now No-Money City. Whatever. I loved it.
I wrote a column last year about the social justice Rally in the Valley and discovered that swear words aren’t exclusive to those who sleep in on Sundays. Was also surprised by some adults in this community who encourage small children to hold their Pro-Life signs on downtown streets, but are less open to older students and adults holding Equality for All signs. WTF?
I was amazed that Tim Felger would erect Parks Are For Children signs during his many election campaigns, but freak out at excellent cops for busting drug dealers in those same parks. Go figure.
I was confused when the Abbotsford Chamber of Commerce aggressively backed the HST, the local gas tax, extra AHL costs and Plan A, but fielded a mayoralty candidate last year with a mandate to cut local business taxes.
I was stunned that our City in the Country claimed to be broke, but apparently not that broke as they bought a $2-million scoreclock and whirlpools for a private business. A business loaded with millionaires content to use taxpayers’ money. Didn’t receive many invites to their parties for pointing that out!
Was surprised to hear “On time, on budget” being parroted at council when neither was accurate. The arena was at least 10 years late in being built by our civic “visionaries” and don’t even get me started on the fudget-budget part. Having said that, I loved all the concerts, Heat games and the fact you didn’t have to drive to Vancouver. And the staff at AESC, especially Michaella Petrik, are great.
City Hall may be filled with ex-bankers, successful business owners and financial wizards, but most don’t seem to respect the taxpayers’ money the same as their own.
I was also dismayed that Premier Gordon Campbell saw fit to remove class-act Abbotsford South MLA John van Dongen from cabinet over speeding tickets, but we keep those with drunk driving records. Politics, eh?
As for quality people here, Mayor George Peary is a brilliant leader and he will find a way to make it all work. Give him some time. If anyone can right the Good Ship Abbotsford, Skipper Peary has the skills and the brains.
Abbotsford Chamber of Commerce executive director David D. Hull – and the real office boss La Goddess Bandsma – work relentlessly to promote this great piece of Fraser Valley turf. Even though we agreed to disagree at times over their columns or agendas, I love their conviction to the cause.
Abbotsford Police Chief Bob Rich and his crew will find a way to flush out most of the bad guys. They will always have critics, but I won’t be one of them – even though Elly Sawchuk and Casey Vinet refused to let me “try out the Taser.” Or pass them in the Police Run, pregnant or otherwise.
Mike Archer and Vince Dimanno, who infuriate many of the city’s big spenders with their not-so-gentle Abbotsford Today website rants, should be commended for getting involved.
If more people in this city were like them and got off their butts and voted, or showed up to public meetings, or held the politicians more accountable, we’d all be better off. I think!
Want to commend the many intelligent letter writers and passionate community activists for getting involved in local issues.
Debate is great – never stop caring and never stop screaming at the editors (but wait until tomorrow, OK?).
And despite all the yelping about Plan A, once the economy improves you will have some of the best facilities in the country filled with the top acts and artistic talent in the world. Can a parking lot be that far behind?
And while Abbotsford is known as being one of the most charitable places in Canada, it can also be one of the most forgiving.
After being grilled by some readers over that social justice column, one lady vowed to never read my articles again.
Six weeks later, my born-in-Abbotsford black lab died on his 14th birthday. Despite a tsunami of tears and total grief, I wrote a column much like the one I scribbled in Mrs. Jolson’s class.
My angry Abbotsford critic got in her car, drove to our office and demanded to see me ASAP. She confessed she “reluctantly” read the article and told me she lost her awesome dog one year earlier and was still devastated. We hugged, we cried and we buried our past differences.
Seems we’ve somehow come full circle. Sorry for taking the long way home.
This swan song is dedicated to my wonderful wife and her ever-cool parents – all from Abbotsford – who endured my “many opportunities” over the years and who never complained when they found me sprawled out in front of the TV with a beer and I said: “Shhhh! Gordy’s working!”
Godspeed and Merry Christmas, folks. And thanks! It is a beautiful life!

** Gord Kurenoff begins working for The Vancouver Sun on Monday. He will be on the Olympic coverage team, quietly cheering for Canadian gold and loudly cheering for tourists to spend lots of money to pay for the Games! **

SENORA SUMAS SET TO PARTY!

El Nopal’s spirited staff members and longtime customers call her the Señora of Sumas, the border-town güera and Chica of Cherry Street.
Despite the hot and spicy accolades circulating inside her venerable Mexican family restaurant, a blushing Wendy Gonzalez said she prefers to be known as the reluctant general manager “and full-time slave.”
You see, this affable mother of five daughters who works seven days a week and gets less sleep than New York City, isn’t the brainchild behind this established eatery – that would be husband José, who can be found most nights playing cards, foosball, darts or sharing stories and shots with patrons.
In fact, owner José is kind of like super-greeter Mr. Roarke of Fantasy Island fame, only he has a tequila bottle in one hand and margarita glass in the other as he welcomes the thirsty and hungry to his piece of Washington nirvana.
“He’s good at that hosting stuff, which is great considering all of this was his idea in the first place,” said a smiling Gonzalez, who unintentionally has become one of the major employers in the tiny town where everybody knows everybody’s business.
Sumas, for those with convenient memory loss, used to be Abbotsford’s adult playground, kind of like what Tijuana is to San Diego – a quasi-discreet place for dancing, drinking and debauchery. In other words, where you could act like Tiger Woods and friends whenever the urge struck.
But the past decade or so hasn’t been kind to this patch of U.S. soil due to a fluctuating dollar, recession, higher taxes, longer border lineups, enhanced security since 9/11 and less disposable income.
More businesses are boarded up than actually operating, but optimism hasn’t disappeared despite the business meltdown.
Gonzalez has survived and thrived. In fact, she recently expanded her busy Call Me Crazy Gifts store at the south end of Cherry Street, and this year with her hubby’s urging opened another El Nopal restaurant in Ferndale, a 30-kilometre drive west of Sumas.
And yes, she looks after that challenging venture, too!
“We do everything as a team, but I was happy just running my gift store while José looked after the restaurant. Over time, it all became my responsibility. I’m not complaining, but it is kind of strange how José’s dream became a 24/7 organizational challenge for me.”
The Gonzalez combo has done a remarkable job since 1988 enhancing the Sumas restaurant, expanding its delicious and affordable menu, plus maintaining its homey atmosphere. It helps they’ve had the same great cook for 19 years.
Bryce Holtry, a former U.S. fiddle champion who often offers impromptu performances, was recently added to work the bar and pull-tab counter. He’s added some welcome humour and extra hustle to the place, Gonzalez said, plus he’s given super-server Joaquin Suarez some competition for the most popular staffer title.
El Nopal is holding a party next Saturday (8:30 p.m. start) to thank its Canadian and U.S. customers for decades of loyalty.
Gonzalez had originally hoped to squeeze in some Christmas shopping, but José figured a “night of fun and entertainment” was needed, so he called up DJ Felix, rounded up door prizes, came up with some games and told his wife to “make it happen!” He just kind of “forgot” to give her lots of time to do that!
She hasn’t come up with a catchy name for the party just yet – she’s still figuring out the scheduling, the babysitting, the festive shopping, the gift store logistics, the Ferndale expansion and when she might sleep.
“My wonderful ‘idea man’ and I will have a talk about this latest brainstorm! He owes me really, really big – again!”