Tag Archives: Relationships

Citizen of Ville Joie – Getting through the storm (p2)

15 Tuesday Jan 2013

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. This part 2 of an excerpt from the fictional part of my story. (Complicated isn’t it?)

“But as it had happened time and time again in my life, the better the news, the deeper I was sinking, becoming more trapped in my own silent world made lively by images of my past. I didn’t want it and by God I wasn’t looking for it. As far as I can remember, I’ve always been aware of its cause and its origin has always been crystal clear to me. It’s the power it has over me I’ve never understood.

This intense discomfort that rises like a storm inside of me whenever something good in my life gives me pride or joy, this thing that exists only to remind me that I am not worthy of happiness and that I should turn my back on it, has always been there. In the background yes, but never too far behind and always ready to revel in its own purpose and this time it was beating me down with a force I had never suspected it could have.

Of course, it had to be stronger than ever before. It had to be in order to match not only how great Annie made me feel but also how bright and exciting my career was shaping out to be.

This episode, although it felt much stronger, was unfolding just like any of the other ones I had in the past and was striking, as usual, at a key moment in my life. It was right on cue too and I knew the drill. Never in these moments has it ever mattered that not all of the images I see are bad or that they don’t all bring back negative memories because, whenever my past occupies my mind, nothing around me feels right. That’s especially true for anything that would normally be of comfort to me. The aching fear that it could go away or be taken from me at any time forces me to reject it on my own, wether I’m conscious of it or not, just so the sharp pain can subside. That has been the true curse of past. The greater the bliss, the sharper the pain.

If my reaction has always been the same messy one, something in my life was different this time. Something I can sense is wrapped around me and is helping me keep my chin up. I can still feel it here, tonight.

It could be Chuck and the positivism he has been showing about his plan which is still unfolding. It has certainly been a soothing balm on the stress caused by the enormity of the changes set in motion in my professional life a few short weeks ago. But these changes are not strangers to the crisis in which I find myself at this very moment. Yes, Chuck is great but so are the emotions stirred by what his name is associated with. So it can’t be what I feel is pushing me forward.

As important as the changes happening at the station are, they are still no match for what I lost at home a few hours ago.

It can only be Annie. Annie is what’s different in my life. The bet I took on my career was the trigger of this episode but only the growing feeling of Annie slipping away from me could be the reason behind the intensity of it. The image of her closing the door on us a few hours ago and the thought I had lost her for good was what pushed me over the edge and do something I had never done before tonight; tell my story. If the fear of losing Annie is the true cause of this war inside of me, then being with her again has to be my only way to peace.

How about that, I had to be beaten down to my weakest to feel the strength she can give me…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad.

I do not have representation.

Citizen of Ville Joie – “Keep going…”

07 Tuesday Aug 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl gets a message from Annie and discusses technology…

“Finally, this ten minute break will give me some time to get some fresh air and step out of the studio for a moment. I usually take this time for a well deserved bathroom break followed by a trip outside, behind the building, for a quick smoke while Susan goes over the few messages and emails we normally get. On my way down the stairs, I am startled by the music coming from my phone which turns out to be an email notification from Annie. I didn’t know my phone could do that.

“Daryl,

I don’t know where your story will take me and all of those who are listening to you. I knew all along it wouldn’t be easy to hear these words if you ever opened up to me because I care about you so much. I hoped for them but I never imagined they would be this hard on me and I never thought how listening to someone, but truly listening, required this amount of energy. So much more energy than being mad at you for the last few days has taken from me. I got even madder when you began story on the air earlier but I understand better now; it is fine by me if you needed the safety of your studio to get it all out.

I’m still there, Daryl. I’m listening to you. Keep going because I think I have already cried all the tears I possibly can anyway. Keep going because I can hear in your voice that you need to tell your story just as much as I need to hear it.

Keep going because if that story ends with who you are now, then I know it ends well.

Enjoy your smoke break.

Annie.”

God, she is good with words. I finish reading her message just as I get to the door leading to my smoking spot and I realize Susan is only a few steps behind me. We stand outside near the door and Susan who has stopped smoking more than a year ago looks at me with obvious envy take the first drag of my cigarette.

“You’re trending right now, Daryl”

“Wow that’s great! Trending is fantastic! You know, I haven’t trended in such a longtime, I forgot what it feels like.” I answer using a sarcastic tone.

“Alright, alright.” Susan says, somewhere between being amused and annoyed.

“You don’t know what trending means. It means you are a very popular subject on Twitter. People are talking about you, promoting the link to our Website where others can log on and listen to your story online from all over the world. Better?”

“Oh, I get it! I’m trending!”

I’m part of that last bunch of radio hosts who still imagine their listeners sitting by their radios, or at least listening on some sort of traditional radio device. Not on their computers or their iSmart Phones or whatever they’re called. It is all iThis and iThat, iSwear! Quite a while back at the beginning of the online craze, Lenny had an epiphany and asked a friend of his to put a website together for our station “so everyone will know we exist.” It worked too; the entire world knew about us and how crappy our website looked. More people were sending us emails to tell us our site was horrendous than any other kinds of comments. Not that I really cared but, at one point we all offered Lenny to kickback some of our salary so he could hire a company to us setup with a real site. He didn’t take our money but he did have the site done by professionals eventually.

Regardless, when Corporate took over, our site was taken down and replaced with a global one instead with all of their stations listed with links allowing to listen to each of them online. Every host was given a page…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad…and no I do not have representation!

Citizen of Ville Joie – The story begins

18 Monday Jun 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl stuns others and himself as begins to tell his story live on his radio show…

“”And Susan, whatever happens, don’t cut me off the air”.

“What? Daryl! What the hell is wrong with you?”

At that same moment, the clock hits midnight and she has no other choice but to turn the microphone on because if she doesn’t, there will be dead air. In our business, silence screams incompetence. This would reflect badly on the both of us and she absolutely knows it. So almost immediately, the light goes green and my mic goes hot.

I begin to talk while slowly taking off my jacket. On my way here tonight I had no clue what the subject of my show would be. It’s strange how when the instincts take over, it all comes naturally. I guess it is the reward of experience and talent. Either you have it or you don’t. I have many flaws and the list of things I don’t know is longer than I care to admit, but I know this; I have it.

“It is midnight and a great new day to all of you. This is Daryl Hart with you until six o’clock with great music from the seventies and eighties.

If you are part of my regular listeners you have come to expect, in addition to the music, the presentation of and a reflection upon a true and inspiring life story. If you are not a regular listener, well, I guess you picked quite a night to join us. I tell these stories hoping they will give us a pause from the insanity of today’s life and remind us of what being simply simply human is supposed to be, even if only for a few hours. The stories of others in spoken words so their lives can help us find our way to the meaning of our own. Not for the drama of it, not for the envy of others and certainly not for pity for ourselves. It has always been about the reflexion and I assure you tonight will be no different, at least in that respect.

The stories I read to you are real, handpicked and carefully reviewed so I can present them to you in such a way that will fit into the vision I have always had for this show. “Mindful Radio” as my billboards read. My intentions were good but the process wasn’t all that honest. So tonight I find myself with the urge to confess that the way I went about selecting these stories was at best cynical. I spent countless hours researching books, magazines and articles all written by complete strangers, most of whom have been gone for years if not decades, when all along I knew of a story just like theirs and I selfishly chose to push it aside and ignore its cry out to be told. This story requires no research and no prep time as it is written inside of me.

Tonight, the music of Cat Stevens will be heard in the background of a story I never fully told, not even to those who matter the most in my life. A story written not by me, but for me by the people who long ago chose the words that would tell the early years of my life. A long chapter I felt was too complicated and yes, too difficult to share but which became very recently, too costly to hide.”

Just as I finish this last sentence, I’m startled by my phone vibrating. A message from Annie. “I’m listening”.

Knowing that she is there makes me feel a little better but I also fear her reaction to the way I chose to finally tell her what she has been so desperately wanting hear. I take a deep breath to finish my intro the best I can.

“When we return after this first song from Cat Stevens, the beginning of tonight’s story. My story”

Immediately after Moonshadow begins playing, Susan rushes to my studio, walks behind me and asks in a nervous voice “What are you doing?”

I’m so stunned myself by what I just did, I can’t even turn around to look at her. “I have to do this Susan. I’m going to need you to trust me on this and I’m going to need your help.”

After a pause she says “This is improv. Six hours of it. You remember how long six hours can be right?”

This time I turn around, look at her with half a smile and say “Believe me Susan when I tell you I have enough material to cover the whole show.”

Susan looks at me intensely for a few more seconds. “Ok”, she says. “We’ll give it a shot, but if you can’t go on you have to give me a heads up all right?”

While Susan marches back to her console, I pick up my phone and type this message to Annie. “This is the only way I know how to do it. Forgive me for the delivery and I beg you, just listen”.

Susan signals the song is almost done and a few moments later I switch my microphone back on.

“This was Moonshadow by Cat Stevens who will sing for us as we take pauses from tonight’s story. I respect that you may not be a fan of his music, I am asking you to give me some time and you will understand exactly why I picked him and no other, why his voice, his words and the comfort born of his music are the perfect companions to the tale that follows.

So here is our story which I guess can only be titled Citizen of Ville-Joie…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad

Citizen of Ville Joie – Shutting the door

13 Wednesday Jun 2012

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Annie left a note for Daryl before she left…

“I went to the station Sunday and Monday nights at around eleven and did my midnight show as usual, but the stories I had picked to share with my listeners seemed more somber, darker even. They had good, inspirational endings as usual but I guess it’s all in the delivery which in radio is a direct reflexion of your mood and there’s basically no way to hide from it. By this morning, after my show, I was a complete mess and I have absolutely no clue how to shake it off, having sunk deep in that intense feeling of loss which I am no longer equipped to deal with. The part of me which used to rise and sooth this kind of pain has been asleep for what seems a lifetime now. It rose too often and too soon in my life, I put it to rest by shielding myself over the years to make sure I would never have to call on it again.

After we started seeing each other, Annie stopped coming to work early at the station so we wouldn’t raise suspicions and avoid office gossips. This also means I haven’t seen her at work these last two days nor did I call her, in part because I wanted to respect her need for space but mostly, because I was afraid of tempting fate. I feel terrible enough as it is without going ahead and making a phone call with the potential of making me feel worse.

Annie came to see me after dinner. When I opened the door and I saw her, I was so overwhelmed that I smiled and went forward to take her in my arms. I stopped short when she took a step back and abruptly ordered me to go back in so we could talk. I walked back inside of my loft and turned around. Annie walked in but I was disappointed when I realized she had stopped by the door and didn’t seem to want to get comfortable and stay a little while.

“You could come in and sit down, you know” I said looking down.

“I’m perfectly fine where I am for now.”

The brief silence that followed was still long enough for me to realize that this wasn’t going in the right direction. Annie confirmed it and went straight to the point.

“Do you have anything to tell me?” she said in a voice not nearly as soft as its usual self.

“I missed you very much”. My heart accelerated in anticipation of her answer.

She raised her eye brows and said “That’s nice. It’s nice to know.” The tone in her voice left no doubt that she meant it, yet it was still firm. “But that’s not what I need to hear from you right now”.

There would be no way out of this, she wanted to know. I kept thinking I should just let it out, all at once and see what happens. I took a deep breath, opened my mouth and moved my head forward as if I was going to say something. Nothing but dead air came out. I stood there with my mouth half opened, completely frozen, unable to speak. That must have made me look quite unappealing as Annie stared at me, waiting to hear something, anything. After a short while, when she realized I couldn’t bring myself to talk, she turned around slowly, opened the door, walked a few steps and closed the door slowly, still staring at me. In a matter of just a few minutes, I went from the joy of being in Annie’s presence again to the pain of standing alone, with no relief in sight.

The first time I cried over a woman, I was about seven and had fallen in love with a twenty-one year old university student named Andrée. The second time was when Danielle died. And this evening, as Annie turned her back on me and I heard her footsteps getting further away from me in the hallway, I didn’t fight the tears. Annie has earned them…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com

This project is entirely written on an iPad

Citizen of Ville Joie, Daryl recalls the Interns Part 3

31 Monday Oct 2011

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. Daryl recalls the interns – part 3.

“The interns alternated the time of the day they spent with us so in the beginning Andrée was there in the mornings, then she moved to afternoons and ended her internship on the evening shift. I loved every second she was there. I spent the precious hours she was with us staring at her, drinking her every word, burning the image of her face in my mind and imagining crazy scenarios like I was a hero and I was saving her from grave danger.

Over time, I also felt close to Pete who at first seemed a little out of his element. Our educators, male or female, were strong figures to us which was what we needed just like any other children. They were also showing a level of understanding toward us you can’t fake, especially when you spend your days with kids craving it as much as we did. Pete didn’t seem to be of a caring nature to begin with and looked like he was in over his head for the first few weeks. He wasn’t mean or abrupt or anything like that, it just wasn’t natural for him and we could sense it. At one point, no doubt as a test of will, our educators left him on his own for an entire afternoon in charge of all of us. I guess that’s when everything clicked for him and for us as well. Interacting with us quickly, very quickly, became second nature for him. Pete tapped into quality of communication he didn’t know he had and reached a point where, when he looked at one of us in the eyes, we had no other choice but to pay attention and listen; not because we were afraid, but because we could feel he meant what he felt and therefore felt what he said. This is how a message reaches the inside of someone.

Once, I can’t remember what it was but I did something that really upset him so he sat in a chair and made me stand in front of him. He gently put his giant hands on both my arms and said “Daryl, I thought you and I were friends.” His words crashed against my heart and I immediately began to cry. I instinctively hugged him and he spent all the time he needed to comfort me.

As I mentioned earlier, at the end of her internship, Andrée was on the evening shift which was by far the most quiet period of the day at Ville Joie. After dinner, she would accompany us in the backyard and play with us until it was time to go back inside where she would supervise us getting ready for bed after a light snack in the cafeteria at which I sat next to her every night. Before lights out, she would go to each of the rooms, making sure everyone was comfortable for the night and, thanks to the layout of our dormitory, I was the last one she would come visit. We had our own short but how important ritual where she would sit on the edge of my bed to confirm I was tucked in very tight and then start laughing the moment she would see the look on my face, which had to be nothing but a look of pure and utter contentment.

She knew. She knew and she played along with just the right amount of distance and the perfect amount of kindness.

“Good night André with two E’s”.
“Sweet dreams Daryl”

None of the other kids got that treatment, which is why we whispered our wishes for the night and I never mentioned anything to anyone, except Allan of course. Andrée and I had our secret and it made me feel so incredibly special…”

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Citizen of Ville Joie, Daryl discovers attraction…

30 Sunday Oct 2011

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Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. Daryl recalls the moment he discovered attraction.

“So on their first day, a group of young interns stood in front of us in a little group and introduced themselves one after the other. Of course, I can’t remember all of their names, only two of them.

First there was Pete who was very tall, had large shoulders and a very deep voice. He looked like he could carry all of us on his large back. A theory we once proved.

“Hi, my name is Pete” resonated throughout the entire room turned silent at the sound of his voice.

Then, from behind Pete, I heard ” Hi, my name Andrée” spoken with the sweetest, the softest voice of them all. I stretched my neck to try and get a look at the woman the voice belonged to but I could only see her feet, her legs and her hands. Whenever I would move to see her face, Pete would be blocking my view. That voice moved something in me and I was overpowered by the put a face on it. I looked around the room and all of the other kids were acting norma. It was as if they had simply heard her name while what I heard was something completely different, a presageful whisper, a message intended just for me as a heads up that something was about to change inside of me. As if I had just stumbled upon a secret no one else knew. Still, no matter how hard I tried or how I positioned myself, Pete, the big guy, was in the way.

After the other interns introduced themselves, it was our turn to say our names and when it came to me, I shouted “DARYL” in Pete’s direction in the hope Andrée would stick her head out to see who would yell his name in such a way but it didn’t work; all it did was draw a huge laugh from the entire room which made me feel pretty stupid. Finally we were invited to go meet the new guys and shake their hands so I stood up and tried to reposition myself to see the face of the woman with the voice. Still no luck, the others had already overwhelmed the interns and since I was so small, all I could see were the back of the heads of my friends as well as the adults’ belt buckles.

I stayed at the back, looking down and just about to give up on my quest to see Andrée’s face when Giles came to me to say it was ok for me to walk right in, so that’s what I did. Pete whose hand made mine disappear when he shook it first stopped me. I met the other interns, shook their hands and spoke to them as well and then, just as I was no longer expecting it, the mysterious woman who’s sweet voice had caused so much turmoil inside of me was right there, smiling and looking at me. She had short brown hair split in the middle as it was brought into fashion by Dorothy Hamill at the time, big blue eyes, porcelain skin she obviously knew didn’t need to be covered by makeup and a smile to die for. Andrée was a stunning beauty. “Weak in the knees” is not just an expression because when I saw her face for the first time, I dropped about two inches before I instinctively pushed myself back up bearing a look on my face that surely revealed I had no clue what was happening to me. I regrouped the best I could and looked at her face again for a few more seconds with my eyes, and probably my mouth, wide opened.

Andrée broke the awkward silence by saying, “Aren’t you Daryl? I like the way you said your name earlier, with gusto!”

I guess it was my turn to speak so I frowned and asked, “Who’s Gusto?”

It made her laugh so much she was barely able to finish her explanation of the word. Since I had just made a fool of myself, I decided to top it off with making fun of her name by saying “Isn’t André a name for a boy?” She rolled her eyes as if she had heard that one a thousand times before and said “Usually it would be, but my name is Andrée, with two E’s, get it?”

I have to admit that no, I didn’t get it at the time and quite frankly her name could have been Roger for all I cared, she still would have been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But since she insisted, from that moment on “Andrée with two E’s” was my name for her and where ever she was, I was as well…”

Do not reproduce or copy the content of this post as it is the sole property of citizenofvillejoie.com
Contact: steve.marchand@rogers.com