See that place to the right of the middle of the photo? 'Ann's Coffee Shop'. It was the eatery fixture downtown 'back in the day'. (Currently, that title is held by 'The Village Restaurant'.) This photo was taken during the Santa Claus Parade in 1972, and is courtesy of the Virtual Museum by way of the Erland Lee site.
It says 'Coffee Shop' on the sign, but you may as well think of it as a diner. Because it was. It was owned by Ann Brown, a lovely round woman...and I guess I must have spent some quality time there, because the mere thought of the place makes me grin. I remember her being kind, and strong and wise.
And this? This is a typewriter a dear friend gave me as a 'novel-warming' gift when I moved to Collingwood to attempt to write my first novel almost two decades ago.
Can you read what's typed there? On that faded piece of paper?
When I was around eighteen, I wrote one of my first screenplays. It was set in Stoney Creek. I took it so seriously (I'd intended to film it myself) that I actually cast it. I remember calling up this gal, an actress in school productions, and asking her if she wanted to star in it.
Anyway, while I was writing this screenplay, my best friend at the time was my 'listener'. My sounding board. I'd get stuck on some element of plot, some ditch in the story...and we'd throw stuff around, I'd come up with an angle...and move on. (Most of this was done shooting hoops in his driveway) Well, over the course of me writing this script, there was this one bit that became legendary. A real sticking point. The story had the lead characters at Ann's...but I had no idea what was going to happen next. We'd go back and forth on this troubling aspect of plot, and get nowhere. I'd leave it alone for a while, only to eventually return to it saying "So we're at 'Ann's'..." Ever after, whenever I got stuck, even when I'd moved onto other projects years later, it became this huge piece of schtick to repeat it. It never failed to make us laugh, and never failed to grease the creative wheels. (It also helped remind us of more innocent days.)
And there you have what's typed on that decrepit piece of paper.
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