Patrick McGoohan

I met Patrick in The 22 and asked him what he was doing? This was his answer. We chatted for a couple of hours. I think he had just finished Scanners.

The Club 22 at the Windsor Arms was an amazing place in 70's & 80's. It was like the hub of movie business in Toronto. Every day there was an adventure of some kind. Robert Miller was a writer for McLean's Magazine and CTV and had recently turned to novels like Dreadlock and some movie biz with Bill Marshall. I had bravely written my first screenplay and had given a copy to Bill Marshall. So we are sitting at the producers table with a few cronies at the mostly empty Club 22 and Bobby says come here I want to talk to you. he leads me to the empty piano bar. He tells me he picked up my script at Bill's office and read it. He than told me I shouldn't be in the movie business and picked my script apart line by line. He was good, he had a photographic memory and a grounding in writing and English and literature that was unmatched. I sat there speechless looking for anyway out. When I looked up in the mirror and said. "Hey isn't that Patrick Mcgoohan coming into the bar?"Bobby hardly broke stride he looked up briefly and went on. See that's what I mean, you don't even know who is who, that isn't Patrick McGoohan, Patrick is a personal friend of mine and that definitely isn't him.I got up and went back to the producers table ready to give up.

I looked again and went up to the gentleman at the bar. Hi aren't you Patrick McGoohan? Yes he replied I introduced myself and So Mr McGoohan what are you doing these days? "The manly sort of thing" he says"I try to drink a bottle scotch and write 2 poems everyday."I invited him to join us. I introduced him around the table, Robert Miller meet Patrick Mcgoohan I smirked as I watched the now speechless Bobby Miller sink low in his seat.

Keenan Wynn

This is me with Keenan Wynn during the shooting of 'The Ballonist' a "Littlest Hobo" episode shot in my parents home in Uxbridge Ontario in the Summer of 1980. It was directed by Allen Eastman (Alien) and Keenan enjoyed tormenting him a bit. Keenan and I spent the breaks talking about movies like 'Dr. Strangelove' etc. it was a fun afternoon. Keenan had the shakes a bit and didn't want to sign autographs, he always had the continuity girl around to take poloroids and gave out pictures instead .

Scanners Mike Ironside

Went to the premiere of Scanners with Michael Ironside and Alberta Watson, I brownbagged a bottle of Mum's champagne to celebrate Mike's first big movie. We drank it in the men's washroom and it was hilarious how many guys couldn't pee with Alberta in the room.

The Girl with the Exotic eyes

The Club 22 at the Windsor arms used to be a fabulous place and every night was an adventure. So I am sitting with a few of the gang at the producer's table when in walks this girl with really strange make up and very exotic dress. We look as she slinks to the bar. Wow she IS interesting "I wonder what her story is " somebody says. "Let's find out" I say and head for the bar. I drift on to the stool beside her and throw out a line. "Care for a champagne cocktail with me."
A few drinks later I know she is an exotic dancer and her gig got cancelled. A few drinks later she tells me that she has entered photos of her pussy in Penthouse's beaver contest and if I go home with her she will show me the photos. This does sound interesting. (If her eyes are any indication) So I agree until she tells me that she lives like in Mississauga and boondocks. Hmm I say a little too casually "That is kinda far couldn't you give me a little peek here."
She starts to cry
"What is the matter?" I ask.
"You have got me thrown out of here.'
"Hows that ?" I ask puzzled.
"When I am upset I cry and when I cry I mess up my make up and when I mess up my make up I scream and throw things.
I ducked out when she started screaming.

Larry Zolf

Larry Zolf (July 19, 1934 – March 14, 2011) was a Canadian journalist and commentator. Zolf was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba

Larry introduced me to Moses Znaimer." Do you know Ledrew I got him out of jail" Larry wrote a letter to the parole board when I was busted and never let me forget it. 

I met Larry at the Old Pilot back in the 60's. We used to have a few drinks occasionaly and had many late dinners at Kwong Chows. The barbs were obligatory. You had to have thick skin to dine with Larry but what a treat. He knew politics inside and out and he had all the real stories.

I last talked to him just after Peter Czowski died.I called to find out if knew anything about the funeral.

"LeDrew where the fuck you been? "Czowski! whatta calling me for I never hung out with those guys." 

"So you Ok?good, Keeping out of jail, good. I gotta go I'm writing.

Larry Zolf (July 19, 1934 – March 14, 2011)^[1] was a Canadian journalist and commentator.

LARRY ZOLF Veteran journalist, author and political pundit extraordinaire Larry Zolf passed away peacefully on Monday, March 14, 2011 at St. Michael's Hospital in Toronto. Known variously as a 'national treasure,' 'Canadian icon,' 'political guru' and 'CBC legend,' Larry irreverently provoked and engaged Canada's political and social culture for over 40 years, and his presence in the Canadian public sphere will be sorely missed. Larry was born in North End, Winnipeg in 1934, received his bachelor's degree from the University of Winnipeg and did graduate work in history at the University of Toronto. He joined the CBC in 1962 and worked as a reporter, producer, critic and radio and TV host on several shows, including the legendary current-affairs TV show This Hour Has Seven Days as well as Sunday, Weekend, and Take 30. His documentary on the 1964 Toronto printers' strike won the Anik Award in 1965 and was rebroadcast as one of the 100 best documentaries at the National Film Board's 50th birthday celebration. He is the author of several books, including Dance of the Dialectic, Just Watch Me: Remembering Pierre Trudeau, Survival of the Fattest: An Irreverent View of the Senate and Scorpions for Sale, which was shortlisted for a Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour. Until the very end of his life, Larry's engagement with thinking and writing and Canadian public culture never waned. In the fall of 2010, his memoir, The Dialectical Dancer, was released. Larry leaves behind his wife, Barbara Diakopoulou, his children David and Rachel Zolf, his former wife Patricia Zolf and nieces and nephews Stephen, Janice, Sharon, Allan, Barbara, Audrey and Susan, as well as many friends, colleagues and admirers. Funeral service will be held at MOUNT PLEASANT CEMETERY VISITATION CENTRE, 375 Mount Pleasant Road, Toronto (east gate entrance, north of St. Clair Ave., 416-485-5572) on Thursday, March 17 at 10:00 a.m. In lieu of flowers, donations in Larry's name can be made to the Kidney Foundation of Canada. Information and condolences available at www.etouch.ca 
- See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/thestar/obituary.aspx?pid=149360388#sthash.vTcOlBV0.dpuf

Rex Murphy: Remembering Larry Zolf

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Rex Murphy | March 15, 2011 11:22 AM ET
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The news of Larry Zolf’s passing comes with an extra sting for me. I can’t claim anything like a full friendship with him over his many years at CBC, some of which coincided with my own wanderings through the corporation. But I did, even so far back, work on a show over which he was both one of the producers and a writer. It was called Up-Canada (only TV archeologists will recall it) and was intended to be a news plus satire show – a division of intent the show never really conquered. It’s difficult to be grim and foreboding (which was what most period documentaries were) and then light, zany and blisteringly funny in the few spots that remained. But it was just such a juxtaposition Zolf was master of – he could leap from idle absurdity to high reflection in a flash. It’s piercing now to recollect that such a rare spirit has gone.

The Zolf of that period was a revelation: he had a high-powered, high-speed mind that raced through ideas and topics and stories with ferocious energy, with Zolf himself (vainly) trying in his free-association style monologues to, if I can put it this way, keep up with himself. He was funny, deliciously well informed on all political and media gossip, and took from his own talk an almost secondary energy. You – we – went to find Larry to have an experience, not a conversation. But, and let me be clear on this – he wasn’t showing off, or demanding the spotlight. Larry was a one-of-a-kind talker; to some measure this was what most – not defined – but marked him. I can’t remember conversations such as those I had with Larry from anyone else, or anything close to them.

They were a mixture of sophisticated commentary, free riffs on some personality, dips into literature or philosophy, tranches of the most ribald sexual gossip and political scandal – all delivered at 200 words a minute and sparkling with one-liners and the most congenial outbursts of laughter. Behind, or in addition to that persona, was a very fine mind and an extremely gifted pen. Zolf never really – in my judgement – gave full evidence of his talents as a writer, though his book on Trudeau (for whom he had an fascination – they had met, Zolf if I recall correctly even having written a speech or two for the “philosopher”) – called Dance of the Dialectic – was a singular, even unique, take by a Canadian journalist on Canadian politics. It buzzed with that high-frequency Zolf intelligence, never at rest with a single idea or impression, but creating through the energy of its prose and the drive of its semi-philosophic framing (I’m writing from memory) a wonderful portrait of both Trudeau and Zolf.

Larry Zolf was warm, intelligent far beyond the usual measure, highly cultured and gifted with an overflowing love of story and humour – truly one of a kind. He was larger than any job he fell into, and from his earliest broadcast debut – the famous This Hour has Seven Days – through his entire career he was a (here’s that word again) singular presence and personality. A man of wit, style and passion – I’ll miss him.

National Post

Rex Murphy offers commentary weekly on CBC TV’s The National, and is host of CBC Radio’s Cross Country Checkup.

Gary Kendall Writes

 I`m a little foggy on the the time frame but I think your bar`s era was around 76/77.  Not the best time for my career as a blues musician.  Disco had taken out a number of live music clubs, punk and new wave were gaining a foot hold. Looking back, I think I was floundering with not much direction or creativity.  My music of choice was blues but I couldn`t get a good gig to save my life and I was burned out from being the band leader of Dollars through 74/75.  Making money was a challenge and hanging out in an after hours bar wasn`t a wise choice for a guy with a family.  When I did get a gig, I`d spend a good chunk of my pay drinking at your place.



I guess that bar offered something more interesting then some of the places I`d play during regular bar hours.  The cast of characters was a pretty interesting mix of rounders, actors and musicians, some of whom had happening careers and others who like me were waiting for something good to fall out of the sky.  I can remember seeing Murray McLaughlin and Ian Tyson there a few times.  Donnie Walsh offered me the gig playing bass in Downchild at least twice while we got loaded at the bar.  As much as I wanted and needed it, it was a job I couldn`t take at that time because his bass player, Jim Milne was one of my best friends.  Fortunately, Donnie would never remember the next day.  I had to wait until a couple of other bassists had gone through the band before taking the gig, that way my friendship with Jim stayed solid.  I`m still part of that band today although I`ve been there twice, 79-83, 95 to present.

It was fantastic when Handsome Ned would take out his guitar, stand in the middle of the room and knock off an short set of country standards.  Although I never got to know him I was always glad when he`d be there and couldn`t wait for him to bang off a some tunes.

I was in the bar the night Mick Jagger and Ron Wood from the Stones came in.  I remember thinking that it would be great if everyone left them alone so they would stay for awhile.  That didn`t happen. Billy Bryans and I were in the middle of a conversation and he made a beeline for Ronnie.  A friends girlfriend who was talking to me mentioned she`d always had a crush on Mick, she immediately disappeared in the direction of the bar that the Stones and entourage were hanging in.  I stood at the end of the bar watching as everyone in the place started to gravitate to the corner of the room where they were.  As soon as some asshole started screaming "MICK JAGGER, MICK JAGGER" at the top of his lungs they were gone, along with most of the women who were there that night.  My friend`s girlfriend ended up with Ronnie Wood and the best line of the night was, when asked why they were in Toronto, they said for the skiing.  On his way out Mick walked past me and shot me a look that said, please leave me alone.  I kept my mouth shut and and gave him a friendly nod of my head.  A week or so later they played their infamous gig at the El Mocambo.

The bar`s era ran parallel to a pretty reckless time in my life, it was probably a necessary diversion for me, somewhere to hang while I waited for things to fall in place with my music and my life.  Eventually things did come together for me.  A life in Canadian blues isn`t the easiest choice for a way to make a living but it`s been interesting, creative and I`m happy.  Shirley and I are still together, now grandparents, so as chaotic as the 70`s were,  part of our lives made it through in tact.

Feel free to edit and correct spelling if necessary.  Use whatever you want for photos.  If you want to send a graphic and link I`ll put your blog on the links section of my website. http://www.garykendall.com Gk