Last month, Sandy and I went to a concert for the first time in a long spell. Performing at TCU Place in Saskatoon was an Everly Brothers tribute band. Calling them a tribute band seems to sell them short. The six pack of musicians was excellent. The singers who played the roles of Don and Phil Everly were about as close as could be without them being the Everly Brothers. No one can be the Everly Brothers, of course. One of the boys in the band sang Buddy Holly songs, and another did a good job of Roy Orbison. It was touching – teary-eyed touching – to see women in the 80-year-old range, standing and dancing. A woman in front of us danced like it was 1960.

This isn’t meant to be a concert review. It is the memories the show evoked. For Sandy, it took her back to Sunday mornings in the mid-1960s. As a little girl, she would wake up to the sound of music. On the record player would be a stack of 45s – remember those? Dropping onto the turntable would be songs by the likes of Johnny Cash, Johnny Horton, Lynn Anderson, Sonny James, Roger Miller, and the Everly Brothers. Sandy said her father’s favourite Everly Brothers songs were Claudette, Bird Dog and Wake Up Little Susie. Sandy and Des would singalong to the music; she still knows the lyrics to her dad’s favourites. We listened to songs by some of those artists on the day after the concert. I didn’t know how great music was in the 1950s. Like so many, music caught my attention on the night when the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show.

The concert brought back a memory for me. One of the happiest days of my life was the day Sandy and I got married. During my speech at the wedding reception, I think I said this was the happiest day of my life until I win the Brier. The Brier thing didn’t work out, but we have been married for going on 47 years. When this beautiful 21-year-old woman walked down the aisle at our wedding, a friend of ours – Colleen Carr — was singing Let It Be Me, another Everly Brothers classic. Sandy is a something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue fan of the Brothers. Don’t you wish more memories could be stored in your mind? When I close my eyes I get a glimpse of Sandy and her father walking down the aisle. Writing this makes me miss Sandy’s dad more than ever. As Sandy approached the front of the church, I don’t remember her father scowling, thinking she could do better. Of course, she could have. I seem to recall her little sister trying to talk her out of getting married right up until the last possible minute. I think she was joking: I am going with that. I am Glad It Was Me.

*****

MEMORIES FROM EATON’S AND THE BAY

I was more an Eaton’s guy than a Hudson’s Bay one. I loved the old three-storey Eaton’s building on Third Avenue and 21st Street in Saskatoon. Many of my age and older will remember it having an elevator operated by a person. Gates would be pulled closed, the door would shut and off riders would go. Eaton’s operated out of the Third Avenue building from 1929 to 1969 before moving to the Midtown Plaza, where it resided until its death in 1999. I got Gordie Howe’s autograph at the Third Avenue store when he was doing a promotion. As I recall, I got my first new hockey equipment there. There was one problem with my hockey career. I skated almost as much on my ankles as on the blades. The reason for these memories was the recent announcement that all but six Hudson’s Bay locations in Canada are closing. Saskatoon won’t be spared.

The Bay was located at 23rd Street and Second Avenue before taking Eaton’s space at Midtown Plaza. Most people will remember the skywalk from the parking lot into the store. The restaurant, tucked into a corner on an upper floor, had great fries and gravy. I consider myself a connoisseur when it comes to this. My lasting memory of The Bay will always be of my Aunt Helen working in the candy department. We called her Candy Carter, but never to her face. I loved her to death, but she was a bit on the crotchety side. She called the mayor’s office frequently to complain about something or other. Mayors of the day probably wished call display was a thing. She used to take digs at the StarPhoenix, my employer for 33 years. She did it to get my dad going. I have been told she was proud of me. I miss her. Eaton’s closure came quickly. On June 5, 1998, Eaton’s stock was trading at $16 a share. By Aug. 19, 1999, it was 71 cents. Eaton’s was founded in 1869 by Timothy Eaton. By 1911, Eaton’s employed 17,500 people. Its operation in Toronto covered 60 acres. That is the equivalent of 60 football fields, according to someone better than math than me.

Eaton’s became famous for some because of its catalogues and mail order warehouses. In 1884, Eaton’s produced its first catalogue and taking mail orders began. Timothy Eaton was 110 years ahead of Amazon. When my mother was doing some downsizing, she found a Fall and Winter Eaton’s catalogue from 1975. It is about the size of a telephone book from the same era. It was pretty cool flipping through the pages. A men’s suit could be purchased for $75 or monthly payments of $6. Jeans and a jean jacket could be had for $25. (They weren’t Lee or Levis though.) Some things were more expensive then: a new-fangled microwave was $840. (Radiation included.) A 26-inch colour TV and console cost just shy of $800. In those days, 26 inches was a big screen. Sites like Amazon have put a big dent in shopping local. Going into a store was an experience. Seeing, touching and trying on clothes was fun for Sandy and me – as long as she was the one trying things on. It was a Saturday afternoon date – have lunch and shop. Bustling malls had a vibe, especially at Christmas. The Internet and companies like Amazon have silenced many stores. Now, it’s The Bay, which has been around since 1670. I wish we would shop like it’s 1975.

– Cam Hutchinson