Mr. Baldwin

I seem to have, quite unexpectedly, reached a stage in life where the prevailing topic of interest is the ageing process. Whether we're preoccupied with seeing the previous generation out of this world, or lamenting our own demise, getting old is getting old.

That's why Mr. Baldwin fills me with hope. My misadventure in London this week had a silver lining. I got the opportunity to catch up with my old pal Robert.

Robert told me a story I'd never heard before, which is surprising, because, as he pointed out, our conversation has been ongoing for close to forty years now, with intermittent interruptions. Today he introduced me to Mr. Baldwin.

In his youth, Robert had a paper route in the Orchard Park neighbourhood in Montreal. It was quite a substantial paper route, and his savings paid for his first year at McGill.

Mr. Baldwin was a ninety-four year old widower who lived independently in a duplex on Orchard Park Lane. On collection day, every two weeks, Mr. Baldwin would invite young Robert in for a game of chess.

So far we've got a pretty pedestrian feel-good story. Perhaps it has some dark under-tones, although fifty years ago society at large was probably less paranoid than we are now.

But here's the reason Robert remembers this elderly customer. After one particular chess match on a otherwise typical collection day, Mr. Baldwin proudly showed Robert his just-arrived box set of 33 rpm records; "Learn to Speak French in Record Time."


Don't know how that worked out for Mr. Baldwin, but the fact that he was willing to take a run at it, at ninety-four years of age, makes me feel hopeful.