Auf der Maur would have hated this pandemic
Hard to believe Auf der Maur would simply stay at home
It seems like almost yesterday, but it was 23 years ago this week when a crowd of 3,500 filled St. Patrick's Basilica for the funeral of Nick Auf der Maur, Not exactly a saint by biblical standards, but the politico, journo and boulevardier could always draw a crowd.
Following the funeral, the throngs, reinforced by a New Orleans-style jazz band, snaked their way from St. Patrick's to Crescent St. for a final goodbye at the Sir Winston Churchill Pub, Auf der Maur's office/watering hole.
For all his quirks — the Borsalino hats, Donald Duck ties and stinky Gitanes — Auf der Maur could always be counted on to light up a room. Indeed, a community. He had a spark that is so much missed now. He was one of the precious few anglos whose voice carried well beyond the Main and had street cred among francos as well as anglos.
But the sad reality is that Auf der Maur would have been hard-pressed to adapt to these pandemic times. A social being if there ever was one, his writings, his politics and, yes, his ego were largely fuelled by his sorties.
So, too, were those of many of his buddies, now deceased: Mordecai Richler, the latter's fave foil, Richard Holden, Gordon Atkinson, Ted Blackman and George Balcan. Along with still breathing friends like filmmaker Brian Mckenna, TV producer Stephen Phizicky, writer/teacher John Aylen and Auf der Maur's preferred mixologist and mother-figure Margo Macgillivray, they formed a sort of rogue's gallery of punditry. Think an anglo Montreal version of New York's fabled Algonquin Round Table, peopled by the likes of Dorothy Parker and Harpo Marx back in the roarin' 1920s.
To mark the anniversary of Auf der Maur's passing every year, Mckenna recites these lines by American poet Edna St. Vincent Millay: “My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends — It gives a lovely light!”
The light is gone, but the memories will always remain for Mckenna: “The pandemic would likely have devastated Nick. He was such a people person. He had such a special charm and made an impact on so many. His friends were characters, too.”
“I think Nick would have felt that his wings had been clipped by the pandemic, and same for those of his close friends who have since passed on,” Phizicky says. “Nick was so keen on seeing people and talking to them. I can't imagine that he could have subsisted on Zoom interactions alone.” Notes Mckenna: “Nick used to joke that his phone number must have been posted in the men's room of every airport with this message: `To find out what's going on in Montreal, call Nick Auf der Maur.' And sure enough, we would be sitting at Winnie's or Grumpy's, and a journalist from halfway around the world would wander in and seek him out, and a relationship was soon born.”
Both Mckenna and Phizicky have had documentary projects put on hold as a result of the COVID-19 lockdown. And both acknowledge that the pandemic would also have stifled the creative juices of Auf der Maur and his coterie of pals who have since died.
“I feel like I'm living in a state of suspended animation these days,” Phizicky says. “Nick would have related and tried to come up with something inventive to counter this if he were around, but sitting alone in a room wouldn't have done the trick for him or the others.
“I'd love to visualize that gang huddled up, sitting around a picnic table in some park in freezing temperatures, drinking frozen vodka, smoking cigars and telling wild stories.”
Nice image, but hard to see that happening. Not unless they were served by Macgillivray, who would certainly oblige.
“I often think of those guys and how they would have dealt with the pandemic,” says Macgillivray, who sang Morning Has Broken at Auf der Maur's funeral. “It would have been impossible, because their lives were about being together at the bar and telling stories. I can't imagine them coping, especially because many lived alone.”
Macgillivray is putting together a book of short stories, aptly titled My Life Behind Bars, about this bunch:
“I just want to keep their memories alive. Those were such special characters and special times, and I miss them more than ever now.”