| Pachter began writing a diary on his computer in May 1989 and continued writing it more or less faithfully until December 1999, when he decided enough was enough.
Here is a one page excerpt from Thursday, July 6, 1989
For another excerpt from the Arctic Journals, click here. |
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We arrived at the King Edward (hotel, Toronto) for a very Tony & Tory lunch with the Queen Mother. Peggy had put my name up for this, as she was going to be in Prince Edward Island. I was called by the PM's office a month ago, and had been told I could invite four others. I suggested Marcia, granddaughter of women's rights activist Nellie McClung, Paul Clark FOOF (Fine old Ontario Family) WASP stock broker, who does Ascot, the Royal Winter Fair, RCYC dinners, etc., journalist John Lownsbrough who cancelled at the last minute, and social columnist Barbara Kingstone who gladly substituted for him. We met up with author and sports writer Alison Gordon at the King Eddie.
The hotel was ringed by police, mounties, and crowds. We walked up the red carpet to clicking cameras and Shriner conventioneers waving Canadian and American flags. We nodding officiously at security, dressed up as we were, moi in a white linen jacket with cream shirt and matching knit tie that I found in a Florida K Mart. I thought I looked rather spiffy, like from an old Fellini movie. We headed upstairs to the Vanity Fair Ballroom. I obtained our tickets from a lady seated at a roped off desk with an alphabetized list, and was immediately asked to produce ID for me and John Lownsbrough. I pointed to Barbara, who despite her nervousness, made an attempt at being demure. I said she was Mrs. John Lownsbrough, and the woman replied ` oh, go right ahead'. No ID necessary for the ladies. Cringe-op for feminists and liberated men. I soon found to our dismay that our group had been split up and we were assigned to different tables, except me and Alison Gordon who were seated side by side.
At our table were Jane and Trevor Eyton, whom I'd met at Brian and Nancy Willer's last winter. I schmoozed him about doing a portrait of him on his motorcycle. He told me he's one of the co-directors of the Toronto Ontario Olympic Council. I mentioned that someone from his committee had requested the use of my image of a Moose on a Diving Tower for Toronto's pitch to the IOC. I sat next to a charming lady, Mrs. Reg Stackhouse who talked of her childhood summers in Muskoka, of arriving there for the season by train, and waiting for the local Indians selling fruit and vegetables from small boats on the lake. Also bee stings, rocky roads, flat tires, model T's laden with baggage on the running boards. She spoke with vivid detail, relishing these memories. I enjoyed listening to her descriptions. Ria and Roy McMurtry sat opposite, Roy talking about Her Maj as if they were best buddies.
All at once the trumpet fanfares sounded, followed by complete silence for a minute or so, as we stood at our tables, waiting, wondering what was causing the delay, and if the Queen Mother was all right. Finally, preceded by a bevy of dignitaries, her Petite Self, was ushered in. She entered alone, frail but vivacious, radiant, beaming but composed in her signature pirate's brim hat festooned with flowers, obviously savouring the moment in a burst of nostalgia. Her bearing was remarkable. The cruelest cynic couldn't help being moved by her charm. Finance Minister Michael Wilson welcomed her from written notes in Public Relations 101 English and Etobicoke French. She replied in both languages perfectly. Fifty years ago, she reminded us, when `the King and I arrived heeyah, Toronto was a veddy different citeh' Today, however, it was Monty Python heaven, complete with silly hats, purses, and gloves, polyester suits. I thought of colonial South Africa, notwithstanding the presence of our jolly black lieutenant governor Lincoln Alexander and his proud, enigmatic wife, Yvonne. I wasn't surprised that there were no blacks among the guests, and very few visible minorities. John Kim Bell, token native Indian symphony conductor made a few wise cracks to me. Peter & Katie Hermant were grinning gleefully.
The menu, an unintentionally inspired Canadian parody, included Escalope de poulet roti aux baies de Saskatoon, Mousse au chocolat à la crème de Lochnagar et Fruits Niagara. As we exited the thronged, Shriner-packed hotel, I spotted AGO director Bill Withrow among the crowd outside standing on the sidewalk. He beamed, said he was passing by, and decided to stick around, since he'd been a boy scout in attendance during her first Royal Visit in 1939. A whimsical Toronto moment.
I drove back to Grange Place with Alison, who wanted to see some art. I showed her a few things. We drank some wine, talked in the kitchen. She ended up buying my #1/10 print of Across Canada by CP Rail which I silkscreened in Calgary in 1970. I showed her some excerpts from the diary. She laughed. |
