Artie Gold in 2004 at the restaurant across the street from where he lived on Sherbrooke Street West, near Patricia Avenue; this restaurant closed and there is a Second Cup there now |
http://www.coraclepress.com/chapbooks/morrissey/remembering-artie-gold.html
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Dear Stephen,
It has been 16 years since I moved from Montreal to make a home in Kingston, Ontario. I had come here to work at Hotel Dieu Hospital in adult psychiatry after having transformed from a musician-songwrtiter (a calling which has gratefully returned without the onus of having to make a living from it) to a psychiatric social worker. During a long period of transition from the stage to McGill - a seemingly endless 7 years - I was a bartender - first at the Rainbow and, then, at Charlie's.
I met Artie in the late 70's at the Rainbow. He would wait for the end of my shift and we would go to Ben's for a 4 AM breakfast of eggs, rye toast, and fried salami. I will never forget watching Artie eat - lingering over each bite with the delight of a child.
Artie and I spent many nights together. We would talk and eat - and we shared some drugs. He would invite me to his tiny apartment on MacKay to see his stash of treasures, the latest of which he would find in the alley ways in the Guy Street area where he lived. I dubbed him 'the urban beachcomber'.
I still have many treasures that Artie gave or sold to me. Scrooge McDuck comics wrapped in plastic and an array of lost and found objects that we both valued. We shared a kind of childlike wonder, marvelling at the great stuff other people would throw away.
This afternoon, I decided to change the place where I have hung one of Artie's drawings that he gave to me. I wanted it to get more light and attention. I turned to Nancy, my wife of 22 years - and a friend of Artie's as well - and said that I was going 'Google' him. That's how I found your tribute to him and learned the very sad news of his passing.
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your words and photos. Artie was a truly gentle and brilliant soul. It was a privilege to have been his friend.
I have often thought of him as the years have gone by - and wondered how he was doing. I missed his company. His humour. His smile.
So in memory of a great friend, I will share my favorite Artie story that I tell at least 5 times a year:
I see Artie for the first time in a few days and say 'hi'.
He says "How come you don't ask how I'm doing"?
Chastened, I ask, 'So how are ya doin'?
Artie pauses, shrugs,
"Don't ask".
Thanks Stephen.
Dwight Druick
1 comment:
sounds like Artie - met him while hanging around with Jose Rosenblatt in the '70's
still have a few of his poem cards that he handed out and signed
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