Dr. Stephen Mulholland

Did you change your hair?

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Did you change your hair?
At the anti-ageing show, doctors tell the secrets to keeping a youthful appearance

[Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post]
“It’s never too late to look your best” says Dr. Stephen Mulholland, director of plastic surgery at SpaMedica.


Suddenly the idea of a facelift is intriguing. Maybe it’s because so many of my friends have reached the stage where they’re considering one, or should be. Not me, of course. I haven’t changed since I was 21. Or have I? “You have beautiful skin over the cheeks, but from the lower lids up you look older,” Dr. Stephen Mulholland tells me bluntly. He is one of Toronto’s leading plastic surgeons and he was one of the many professionals on hand at New You 2003, the anti-ageing show at the Convention Centre over the weekend. I was like a kid in a candy store, strolling from booth to booth, learning about botox, laser demonstrations, dermabrasian, cosmetic dentistry and all the other ways to look younger. “Your neck is fine but if you look in a mirror and do an endoscopic brow lift [this involves pulling the skin upward with your index finger pressed above your temple], you’ll see that your problem is your upper lids,” says Dr. Mulholland. “And there are bags under your eyes.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” I say defensively.
“Could be,” concedes Dr. Mulholland. “That’s why, if you came to the office, we would want to look at pictures of you when you were 25 and 35, to see what you were then and what you could be again.”
“I’ve changed?” I ask.
“Not everyone wants to be what they were,” he continues, ignoring my question. “If you don’t want what you were before, then we need to create the beauty that was never there.”

I ask if Joan Rivers is an example of creating beauty. “She looked good four facelifts ago,” Dr. Mulholland observes. And Raquel Welch?”A beautiful facelift,” says Dr. Mulholland, “and Kim Basinger’s had a good one too,” he says, adding that Madonna, too, has “had stuff done.” He doesn’t think she looks great, but “she would look worse if she hadn’t had it done. “Indeed, he continues, what I need is what she appears to have had done: “a brow lift, upper-lid lift, cheek-and-jowl lift, lower lids tightened and less bags.” And here I thought I was looking OK when I left home this morning. Dr. Mulholland consoles me by saying, “Even younger women are having work done. Catherine Zeta-Jones has had work done to maintain her good looks.” And he adds that her husband, Michael Douglas, is an example of a man who has had a successful facelift. “But Al Pacino is an example of a bad facelift.” Continuing, he says Sylvester Stallone has had a bad facelift and Robert Redford has suffered from skin that is extremely sun-damaged.

I must admit everything he is telling me sounds good, but I wouldn’t consider going under the knife for mere cosmetic reasons. “Fear is a big factor,” says Dr. Mulholland, who does 200 to 300 operations a year and tells me there’s a one in 600,000 chance of dying from the anaesthetic. And what should you expect after the procedure? “To look like hell for the first week,” he says. “By the second week, you’ll look like you were hit by a door. The third week you’ll look like you had your wisdom teeth out. By the fourth week you’ll be ready to go to the store. But you won’t want your friends to see you. When you do feel ready to confront people you know”, he says, “you should tell them you’ve lost weight or changed your hair colour.” They’ll notice something is different, but they won’t know what it is,” he promises.

Mulholland says it’s common for patients to feel some level of disappointment after. “But that’s all about expectation,” he says, surprising me by adding he refuses about one in 10 patients because of unrealistic expectations. “Some women come in because they want to save their marriage. They’re considered bad candidates because they’re doing it for the wrong reasons. “He also refuses people who aren’t in good physical shape. The cost of cosmetic procedures”, he says, “ranges from about $8,000 to $25,000, which would be “from stem to stern, ear to ear, which,” he adds judiciously, “is less than a fully loaded SUV, so patients who value their car more than their face are not good candidates. And if you drive a K car, there are less expensive facelifts in the city.

“So what are the right reasons for a facelift?”, I ask.
“When you wake up in the morning and it affects your mood. When you look in the mirror and say, ‘Who the hell is that?’ When you feel good and look bad,” he says. “You’re a candidate now,” he tells me”. Ouch, that hurts. “Most women”, he says, “start in their early forties with brow lifts, then move on in their late forties and early fifties to cheek and jowl, and by their late fifties they’re doing their neck. Women like to do it one room at a time,” he says, adding that “it’s never too late to look your best.” And the difference between men (who represent 10% of his practice) and women? “Men come to my office in their fifties. They want a strong jaw and a dangerous face. They want that, ‘I can take you anytime’ kind of face. Women, on the other hand, want to be alluring, they want that, ‘You can have me anytime’ kind of face.

Finally, I ask Dr. Mulholland, who is in his early forties and doesn’t have a single line or wrinkle, to name his plastic surgeon. He denies having had any work done. Oh, well, he’s probably just lost some weight or perhaps he’s had his hair dyed.

by Sharon Dunn

Brad Peyton

Embracing his inner weirdo

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Embracing his inner weirdo
24-year-old Gander filmmaker hired by Tom Hanks to write and direct

[Photo: Peter J. Thompson, National Post]
Brad Peyton is writing and directing the feature film The Spider and the Fly for Tom Hanks’ production company. It was his short film Evelyn: The Cutest Evil Dead Girl that opened the doors to Hollywood.


Looking like a Tim Burton character, 24-year-old Brad Peyton is wearing a band jacket he picked up in Toronto’s Kensington Market, and his hair is piled on top of his head. “It’s kind of a bun but it never really made it. It’s the way I feel on the inside showing on the outside.” Originally from Gander, Nfld., and a recent graduate of the Canadian Film Centre, Peyton has been hired by Tom Hanks’ company, Playtone, to write and direct the feature film The Spider and the Fly. “I don’t know where my love of film comes from,” he tells me. “Maybe from drawing and writing when I was a kid.” Growing up in what he calls an isolated household (the family lived in a rural area outside of Gander), Peyton says, “I didn’t have a neighbourhood. The nearest neighbour was over a mile away. But I loved to watch movies like The Wizard of Oz, Rudolph [at Christmas], The Invisible Man, Warner Brothers cartoons. I didn’t get to see a lot of eclectic stuff. What I saw, I would watch over and over again. If my parents rented something they didn’t want me to see, I’d get it on top of the fridge after they went to bed.” At the age of 14, Peyton would often go to the local Cable Atlantic building to borrow a camera. “I would shoot and try to train myself.”

Wanting to be a filmmaker didn’t go over big at home. “It was a totally insane idea to everyone in Newfoundland. There was no one in Gander making movies. I had to leave Newfoundland to see it as a reality.” After winning awards in school for art, Peyton received a small art scholarship from Dalhousie University in Halifax. He stayed only a year and then moved on to Toronto where he started taking night courses. It was mainly to gain access to video equipment, he says. “I would shoot a short film a week.” He also worked at Toronto’s Uptown Theatre for about a year — “just to see free movies. It was great.” From there, he tried school again, this time Ryerson. That lasted six months. “Certain people like me know what they want to do,” he says. “I didn’t need the guidelines they [Ryerson] offered. I knew they were hindering me.” (“Be gentle,” he tells me. “I don’t want them to hate me.”).

Things quickly got better for him when he received a grant from the Canada Council after writing a script for a movie called Full. “It took 2 1/2 days to shoot, a month in prep and a month in post. It got played at a lot of festivals,” he says, “and it got played on CBC.” After Full, his life started to change. The film got him into the Canadian Film Centre. This time he had a good experience in a structured learning environment. “The centre was much more conducive to someone like me. They embraced what I wanted to do and supported me wholly as a creative person.” He credits director in residence John Paizs and producer in residence Greg Klymkiw with being particularly helpful. “I went in with a very distinct idea of what I wanted to do,” he says, “and they were supportive of my creative risks. I was handed the strange stuff because I was considered the weirdo in residence.” He laughs. “I was doing Coen brothers homages to Gone With the Wind on a $500 budget in a small room. I would say, ‘I need 500 sheaves of wheat, some Styrofoam and a backdrop.’ ” Don’t ask.

His thesis project was Evelyn: The Cutest Evil Dead Girl, a nine-minute film he wrote and directed. Described as a darkly twisted comedy about a lonely dead girl who tries to bring herself back to life in order to make friends, it is currently winning rave reviews and awards at festivals around the world. “They [the film centre] saw that I wanted to do very visual and progressive strange films. As a weirdo growing up in a small town, what I needed most was other weirdos to relate to.” Evelyn, which Peyton describes as “very, very Seussian and Tim Burtonish” premiered at last year’s Toronto film festival. The public will get a chance to see it during this year’s Worldwide Short Film Festival running June 3 to 8 in Toronto. It was Evelyn that opened the doors to Hollywood for the young filmmaker. Universal heard of the film and sent it to Playtone. “They sent me a book based on an 18th-century famous cautionary tale called The Spider and the Fly. All it took was for me to look at the cover of the book,” he says. He was hooked. “And then when I saw her, the female fly, I knew I could fall in love with her.” Hanks and company wanted Peyton’s thoughts on how to adapt, write and direct the book, so they flew him to L.A. to do the pitch. “I had never done a pitch in my life,” he says. “I felt like I had landed in Oz. But when I went in, I kind of knew I was in the right place. The executive had an autographed Rob Zombie skull from the movie House of 1,000 Corpses.” Peyton spent an hour and a half pitching his proposal and just when they thought he was finished, “I opened my bag and took out swatches for all the characters, character designs, set designs, wardrobe. When I was finished, the executive says, ‘Great, we’re doing it.’ I was told that almost never happens.” Peyton signed the contract, and although he won’t tell me exactly how much he’s getting paid, he does admit it’s in the range of “six figures for writing and six figures for directing.” He intends to write the script this summer and expects the animated film to be in theatres in about 2 1/2 years. For his success, he credits “progressive people allowing me the freedom that I need to make movies. I hope,” he adds fretfully, “the talented people around me get opportunities.”

by Sharon Dunn

Jamie Blyth

All twisted up in Trista’s game

 From the

Sharon Dunn
All twisted up in Trista’s game
The Bachelorette contestant suffered from social phobia

[Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post]
Jamie Blyth suffered his first panic attack when he was 19.


I was surprised to hear that Jamie Blyth, one of my favourite bachelors from The Bachelorette, was speaking at the annual meeting of the Anxiety Disorders Association of America in Toronto last week. But sure enough, he suffers from an anxiety disorder and approached the organization saying he’d like to tell his story. During his presentation, Blyth gives no sign of panic disorder or social phobia (which is how he describes his problem). In fact, he comes across much more animated and pleasant in person than he did on television, making me wonder why Trista didn’t pick him. He says he appeared on the highly rated reality TV show to confront his fears. Since being dumped by Trista, he’s appeared on Oprah, Connie Chung’s since-cancelled show and Good Morning America — a lot of exposure for a guy suffering from anxiety. “Everything was great in my life,” Blyth says, until his first panic attack at the age of 19. “Picture that you’re walking down the street late at night and someone puts a gun to your head. I started to hyperventilate and felt that I would die. I staggered away.” That was the beginning of three terrible years, at the end of which he says he hit rock bottom and contemplated suicide. The only respite was playing basketball, where he was confident (he played professionally) and never suffered anxiety. Finally, he got help. “My biggest fear was speaking to people, but I worked on getting over it,” says the attractive 27-year-old. “Doing The Bachelorette was hard. I was criticized. I had a camera on me 24/7. It was right on top of me. If I’d had a panic attack, the whole world would have seen it.” He says if he’d gone on television at the age of 22, “I’d be in a mental hospital.” But he’s much better now.

These days, he says jokingly, “I never cry, except when Trista dumped me.” Blyth tells me the show involved 900 hours of video condensed to just four hours. The drastic editing was why fellow contestant Russ was panned by the audience. “They did enough to make him look bad, but he’s really not that bad,” Blyth says. “Someone had to be the villain.” Blyth came across as likeable because he became friends with the editors of the show, he says. A good thing to remember. He’s happy about The Bachelorette experience. “The important thing is to have a vision,” he says. “If you want to go somewhere, do something, don’t let panic stop you. Set attainable goals and keep raising the bar. The terror will subside. Panic is the best thing that ever happened to me,” he insists. “I thought I was alone and I’m not.”

Only about 20 people, if that, came to hear Blyth speak on Friday, but I’m told this isn’t surprising. Many people with anxiety don’t want to admit to it or may even be afraid to venture far from home. (That said, the organizers are surprised more professionals didn’t turn out.) Some 10% of the population suffer severe anxiety, which may manifest itself as avoiding contact with others (49%), avoiding answering the phone (41%), blocking out the daily news (16%) and in the most extreme cases refusing to leave the house (14%). I must admit I’ve done all these things on occasion. “It’s normal to get anxious in common, stressful situations like going on a job interview or a date,” says Alies Muskin, the chief operating officer of the association, but the sweaty palms, racing heart and shaking hands are usually temporary. “But almost one-quarter of Americans feel a high level of worry or anxiety on a daily basis.”If these feelings disrupt your daily life, you may have an anxiety disorder, the most common symptoms of which are excessive worry, sleep difficulties, panic attacks, obsessive or ritualistic behaviors, phobias and social anxiety.

by Sharon Dunn

Nana Mouskouri’

 more than pure spectacles

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Nana Mouskouri’s more than pure spectacles
Greek singer has a black hat to match – and a new album

Nana Mouskouri is 68 years old. When I heard that Nana Mouskouri’s publicist had called the Post looking for me, I was intrigued. The editor was less so, pointing out that Mouskouri, the beautiful Greek singer of a generation ago, is now better remembered for her glasses than her songs. All the same, I was interested, if for no other reason than because her publicist asked for me by name (we must reward those who like us). So, even though I had my own doubts, I set up an interview.”

“Why don’t you follow Nana around for the day?” her PR guy suggested, “and do a story on how hectic a media day is for her.”
“You must be kidding,” I replied indignantly. “I’m not spending my whole day following Nana Mouskouri around. I wouldn’t do that for the Rolling Stones.” Well, maybe for the Rolling Stones. But when I arrive at the King Eddie, I’m surprised to find the media is here in force — television, radio, print, the works. I ask the publicist how come.
“She’s such an icon. If I had a nickel for everyone who has said, ‘Oh, you’re working with Nana Mouskouri, she’s my mother’s favourite artist, her PR guys says.
“Not my mother’, I tell him, “he talks of Perry Como and Engelbert Humperdinck”.
“She’s fresh and lovely and holding up well,” I hear the publicist tell someone on the phone, “she’s already conducted 15 interviews.”

Suddenly, I see those famous black-rimmed rectangular glasses coming toward me. I start off by asking her if people recognize her if she takes them off. “I always wanted to be myself,” Mouskouri responds, “If people accept you for what you are, you have to accept yourself as well.” This is not a good opener, so I decide I should be tough. “Some people think you’re old news,” I say, feeling mean even as I say it.
“They say that, but this is life,” she says, sighing, “now you have to be 18 years old, no less than that,” “she means no more than that”. “Yes, I do get that,” the 68-year-old singer continues, “but I have recorded over 2,000 songs over the past 45 years, and I’ve sold close to 300 million records.

“But what have you done lately, I venture.”What I’ve done lately,” she says, “is that I’ve recorded an album of some of my greatest hits.”
“Old songs?”, I ask. She nods. I rest my case. Trying to find common ground, I ask her opinion of My Big Fat Greek Wedding.”Everyone asks me that,” says Mouskouri, “but I haven’t seen it.” She does, however, have much to say about the effect of the movie in her homeland. “It’s very important what’s happening in Greece since that movie. It’s affecting our country. Greeks enjoy it, that’s what I’ve heard.”When I suggest perhaps she should go see it, she shrugs and explains she is a traditional Greek. “When I’m home, I’m cooking, and washing and ironing the clothes.” Mouskouri says the old-fashioned virtues she embraces are not shared by some of her contemporaries. “Friends of mine have done surgery and it’s ruined their lives, ruined their eyes, nose, lips — yes, especially, lips. I have seen so many people take injections to stay young in Greece. The old Greek ladies, they love to do that.”

Mouskouri, whose skin is smooth and unlined, says the only thing she does is colour her hair. “Sometimes I feel I’m the wrong person for this kind of life,” she observes. “I was lucky I made it, I would never make it today because you have to be out there.” But though she isn’t like that, she insists she likes ‘wild’ people. “My favourite young artist is Alanis Morrisette”, she tells me Knowing that she is performing with Harry Belafonte at the end of May at Massey Hall, and that she’s been featured with him on the concert circuit for years, I ask the obvious question: Has she been having an affair with him all these years? She is aghast, and I ask her if this is the first time anyone has raised this with her.
“Of course not,” she sputters.As she’s leaving (which is soon after that last question) she dons a hat, an attractive black broad-brimmed topper.”Oh, a cowboy hat!” I say. She is once again aghast. “This is not a cowboy hat!”
“Do you want to come in the car with us to CFRB and watch her radio interview?” the intrepid PR man asks. I decline, figuring the only thing I’m going to remember about her anyway are her glasses.

by Sharon Dunn
Updated Jan 25/25 I have no idea why I was so mean to Nana Mouskouri in this interview. I feel bad. I was such a bully…I ddn’t even mention that she has a fabulous voice.

Susie Moloney

Writing your worst nightmares

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Writing your worst nightmares
Horror novelist Susie Moloney likes characters who are ‘deeply troubled’

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
So this is what can happen to a kid who was terrorized by her brother: Susie Moloney, who was “always a scared kid,” became a horror writer.


I’ve always wondered where the spine-chilling tales of horror writers come from. Since I’m too afraid to read most of this stuff, and I still haven’t gotten over The Exorcist, my curiosity is what has me out to interview Susie Moloney, whose latest horror novel is called The Dwelling. Winnipeg-born Moloney was on Manitoulin Island in 1996 when she wrote her most famous novel, A Dry Spell, which has been published in some 18 countries and has netted the petite blond about $2-million.”I don’t want to talk about money — that’s not what I’m all about,” she tells me nervously, more frightened of money than the ghosts that float through her books. A Dry Spell and Moloney became a bit notorious when Tom Cruise bought the film rights shortly after the book hit the shelves. Of course, I want to know how much Cruise paid, but she won’t divulge. After considerable prodding, and some guessing, she concedes that the amount was somewhere in the US$500,000 range. The way it worked, Moloney says, is Cruise paid for the option to the film rights for two years. But after that time expired and the film hadn’t been made, the rights went up for sale again and have been sold twice since. Moloney says each time they were sold, she was paid. “But the value goes down with each sale,” she says. “It’s like if you don’t get married by age 40, the quality of your boyfriends begins to drop.”

The 41-year-old tells me she is happily married but lives apart from her husband. “It works for us,” she says. “I need independent time, and that’s hard to get in daily life. People get caught up in taking out the garbage and cleaning up the crumbs — it’s a romance killer. It’s a better romance at a distance — everyone knows that. Even when my husband comes to my place in the city to visit, we still have separate bedrooms.” Finding success and Tom Cruise wasn’t easy. Moloney’s first book, The Pack (1990), about wild dogs, was never published. “It’s not publishable,” she says honestly. “It’s a drawer book — it stays in my drawer.” Her first published novel, Bastion Falls, “was a very small book, published by Key Porter. Good characterization, but awkward structure,” she admits.

Wondering if horror writers are as neurotic as the rest of us, I ask her if she’s superstitious. “I am superstitious about pushing my luck,” she tells me. “I don’t like to get too comfortable. In my past lives, I must have been a tortured prisoner, or a slave,” she laughs. And in this life, there were some minor tortures as well. “I was always a bit of a scared kid,” she says, “monsters under the bed and all of that.” And she had an older brother who liked to terrorize her. “Once, when I was home alone at age 12, he and his buddy were at the window wearing masks — I’ll never forget it.” She also mentions her mother, a big fan of horror flicks, who passed away when Susie was only 11. “Sometimes she would wake me up at night when she got too scared watching horror movies alone,” she says. “I loved it when she did that. My mother was fascinated with horror.” We decide that her mother is the inspiration for her books. “But where do the ideas come from?” I want to know.”What you do,” she explains, “is think of your worst nightmare. And that’s what I write about. For example, if you hear your child coming to your bedroom in the middle of the night, what is the first thing you think about?”
“That someone will grab him,” I suggest.
“Or that he’ll fall down the stairs on his way,” she offers. “Or when your child is outside and you can’t see him, then your imagination goes. You start thinking, ‘Is the neighbour’s dog inside?’ and that kind of thing.”
“Wouldn’t you worry more about kidnappings?” I ask.
“In Winnipeg?” she says fearlessly. “I’m far more frightened about my kids entering into a bad emotional state, like low self-esteem or drugs. It’s much worse than anything that can happen to you physically, because most of that can be easily fixed. The real horror in my characters is loneliness, being lost. My characters are deeply troubled, they go through emotional despair. But in the end they are altered, changed, so that they can move on with a clean slate.” Her worst fear, she says, is failure, and that comes through in her books. “All my characters are failing at something. In my case, I’m afraid of being a bad mother or a bad person.”

Moloney, who says she really does believe in ghosts, wrote the spooky material for her latest book late at night, after her son was asleep. “I write in a long enclosed porch, always at night. I usually start at about 10:30 p.m. and work until about 12:30 a.m. I’m a frugal girl, so I always have all the lights off in the house except for the light in my bedroom.” But “sometimes, when I’m writing about a ghost, I start to freak out, and then I’ll let out little shrieks as I run around turning on all the lights.” She says the ghost she put in the attic in The Dwelling has had an impact on her. “Now when I’m at home,” she says, “I keep listening for sounds from my attic.” Her eyes widen. I’m just glad I don’t have an attic. She admits there is one thing that even she is too frightened to write about. “I won’t write about the Devil. He really terrifies me. I won’t do it because I feel I would be inviting something evil into my life.”
Gulp!

by Sharon Dunn

All About Pets

They’ve collared the market

 From the

Sharon Dunn
They’ve collared the market
Entrepreneurs at All About Pets cater to creatures great, small and, er, devout

[Photo: Peter Redman, National Post]
DOGGY BAGS: Penny Milne totes Angel (left) and Gizmo in the ABYS (Always By Your Side) Pooch Pouch she designed.


Dogs have proved my undoing. I’ve had a few, one as recently as Christmas, which is why my editor suggested I go to the All About Pets show this weekend. “You’ll love it because you have a dog,” she reasoned. “Not any more. I sold him,” I felt I had to admit. Then I added proudly, “And I doubled my money!” I heard a deep intake of breath at the other end of the line, then she sputtered, “Sharon, you flipped your dog!” It does sound bad, I know, but when I confess my recent sell-off to Terry DeMarchi, an organizer of the pet show, she says lots of people find they don’t like being pet owners but most won’t admit it. She says she’s just happy my ex-dog has gone to a good home. “I’d rather that than some people who stick their dogs in their backyards and then they’re completely ignored.”

So, with DeMarchi’s blessing, I feel free to be my dog-loving, non-dog-owning self and enjoy the show. I start at the dog-show arena, where the cute little furries perform traditional doggy tricks — spinning, barking and jumping — and watch the crowd go wild for Casper, Fly and Spunky. But I can’t get past the fact that this is all about the unceasing quest for food. The dogs never take their eyes off their trainers’ treats. Next it’s on to the champion cats, the Ferret Aid Society (devoted to rescue and adoption) and the Parrot Club. “Why isn’t there poo all over the place?” I ask.” Everyone cleans up right away,” I’m disappointed to learn, knowing how my house looked after a brief period of dog ownership.

I stop to pet a cute little guy. “This is an abusive dog,” says the owner, and I quickly withdraw my hand. “Don’t you mean abused?”, I ask. She did, but I must admit, I’ve met more than a few abusive dogs in my day, not all with four feet. The exhibit booths are truly wild and woolly, with every animal product you can imagine. There’s even a pet psychic. But my favourite is the one touting kosher food for dogs. There, I talk to Arthur Zack, the Canadian distributor. He is a most earnest chap, who tells me that a man in the States, a Christian, was sick, so he bought kosher foods in the hope that they might help him. They did. When his dog got sick, he gave the dog kosher foods and the dog got better. And the rest is history. When I respond with some skepticism to the idea of a kosher dog diet, Zack produces a letter from Rabbi Sholem Fishbane, from the Chicago Rabbinical Council, who declares the product acceptable for anyone (or any species, I guess) who observes Jewish dietary laws. To my amazement, Rabbi Fishbane has even noted that some of this dog food is acceptable for use during Passover. I guess some dogs are more devout than one might think.

Zack, a former chartered accountant, offers more than kosher dog food. There’s the Cool Pooch, a sport water bottle “for you and your best friend.” The top has a cup with a second straw so you and Rover can drink from the same bottle on those long spring walks. Then there’s a Ruff-Minder dog toy that attaches to your pet’s water bowl. When the water level gets below a certain point, the Ruff-Minder berates the owner for neglect. There is also a pet strobe that attaches to your dog for safer walking late at night. “If your dog runs out on the road, he can be seen with half-mile visibility,” says Zack.

I’m happy to report that Zack, the dog-product entrepreneur, doesn’t have a dog. Ha, I’m not the only one. “But we have cats,” he adds hastily, and for Fluffy there are a range of products, including the Panic Mouse, an interactive, high-tech version of the old-fashioned mouse at the end of a fishing rod that amuses cats for hours. I learn that the Panic Mouse won the Best Cat Product award for 2002 and 2003 from the American Pet Product Manufacturing Association, so it must be a real kitty pleaser. (If you want to know more about these products, call 905-707-0208.)

I must admit, I feel a bit left out as I watch loving pet owners purchase bags upon bags of toys. Poor Scrooge-like pet less me has no four-legged creature to spend my money on. Ah, the silver lining.

by Sharon Dunn

Frank Buckley

A visit from the famous Mr. Buckley

 From the

Sharon Dunn
A visit from the famous Mr. Buckley
He’s sold the cough medicine, but he has lots of other ideas

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
Frank Buckley is 82 years old, one year younger than his father’s awful-tasting mixture.
Most of us have noticed those television ads for the nasty-tasting cough syrup Buckley’s Mixture, ads famous for the memorable phrase, “It tastes awful and it works.” The face in the ads is 82-year-old super salesman Frank Buckley who, not missing a trick, brings written testimonials about his dad’s 83-year-old product when he comes to meet me. He also brings funny letters about the taste. One letter from Nova Scotia reads, “We gave our 5-year-old son a teaspoon of Buckley’s Mixture. His eyes watered, he gasped, and he finally spoke, ‘Are you sure you weren’t supposed to rub that on my chest!!'” Another letter goes, “I bought two bottles of Buckley’s Mixture. I smelled it and I’m alarmed. Is it OK to take internally?” Buckley laughs at the letters and says it’s all part of the reason that taste is mentioned in the ads. He reminds me of other famous ad slogans he’s used, such as, “I inherited my bad taste from my father”, and “I have nightmares that someone is going to make me take my own medicine.””And what about this one?” he says. “What are the four most terrible words in the English language?… Get out the Buckley’s.” Frank Buckley tells me his dad, W.K., created the blend before Frank was born. “The genesis of the cough medicine is that it developed out of dad’s drugstore in downtown Toronto. In 1918 the flu epidemic came along,” says Buckley, “and every pharmacist had a miniature lab because these characters were concocting and mixing their own prescriptions.” W.K.’s mixture took off and soon he was producing it out of a factory, an old converted house on Mutual Street.That’s all well and good, but, having tasted the stuff, I want to know what’s in it. “The usual things,” he says. “Camphor, menthol, extract of oil of pine [for a mild internal antiseptic effect].” The only change made over the years is his dad took out sugar and substituted glycerine. “I don’t know why he did it, but it turned out to be very fortuitous because now we can make the claim, ‘no alcohol, no sugar.’ “But what is it that gives Buckley’s Mixture its bad taste? “There’s a thing in the formula called ammonium carbonate,” he says, “and there are two things about it: One, it tastes bad, and two, it opens up the airways very quickly and relieves the bronchi of any mucus that’s in there.”I don’t know why no one else is using it …”The “tastes awful and it works” campaign featuring Buckley was created by a Toronto advertising agency and was so successful Buckley’s went from a 3% share of Canada’s cough medicine market in 1984 to what Buckley tells me is a 20% share in some provinces. “We were so small back then,” Buckley says, “that we only had a $250,000 budget. The ad people came to me and said, ‘You have a cough medicine that’s very different.’ They said, ‘It tastes awful, and we have an individual [Buckley] we can associate with it, which the big companies can’t do.’ ” Buckley agreed to do the ads. “As long as you don’t make me into another Victor Kiam [of Remington fame],” he told the advertisers. When I asked what was wrong with Victor Kiam, he says, “If you saw any of his ads you’d know what I mean. He thought he was the be-all and end-all of the business.”Benylin has the biggest share of the market, “but we passed Vick’s three years ago,” he says proudly. About five million bottles of Buckley’s Mixture were sold in Canada last year alone, he tells me. Buckley’s Mixture is also sold in New Zealand, Holland and the Caribbean. “We had a crack at the U.S. and we lost some money. We didn’t have enough weight to compete with the big guys.”Buckley, who sold the famous cough medicine last year to pharmaceutical king Novartis ( Maalox, Otrivin), tells me his company is still handling the manufacturing of the product until April of next year. Buckley says the only reason the vile-tasting preparation has lasted for 83 years is because it works. I must admit I know people who swear by it. “And lots of people tell us it works for asthma,” says Buckley, who quickly adds, “but we can’t make the claim. The government says that there’s no clinical evidence for it helping asthma. “And we didn’t do any clinical studies for asthma,” Buckley says, although he thinks the testimonials speak for themselves.Even though he’s sold his company, the spry octogenarian has no intention of slowing down. “I don’t want to sit on my ass and do nothing for the rest of my life,” he says. Between his work schedule (he still goes into his Mississauga office every day) and his workout program (three times a week), there’s no fear of that. “I do cardio, weights, abdominals and flexibility training,” he says. “I’ve been doing it for the last thirty years when my GP told me I had high cholesterol.” The high cholesterol long gone, Buckley and son Don have plans for the future. “We’re looking at new ideas,” he says. “We’re looking for a company where our marketing skills fit in.” But, he says, “part of my agreement with Novartis is that we’re not allowed to go back into the cough syrup business.” Which, when you think about it, is probably a good thing. What if they came up with something that tasted worse than Buckley’s Mixture? Now that’s a scary thought.

by Sharon Dunn

Premier Gordon Campbell

You have to admire his candidness

 From the

Sharon Dunn
You have to admire his candidness
It’s as though I had asked Gordon Campbell about the weather

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
“No one wants it to happen to them, but I have to be forthright about it.”


B.C. Premier Gordon Campbell was in town earlier this week to promote the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Winter Games bid, but I wanted to talk with him about that other subject. I wanted to see how he’s doing since his highly publicized arrest and subsequent conviction on a charge of drinking and driving following a vacation in Maui, Hawaii, in January of this year. But when the accommodating Premier sat down with me, I started to wonder whether that was a good idea. I mean, what politician would want it dragged up again? No one wants to be reminded of a big mistake he/she made – especially by a reporter. And Campbell does seem to have paid the price (including a 14-hour alcohol assessment program and a substance-abuse assessment, not to mention the negative press.

The Premier and I start off by talking about the Olympic bid. To date, says Campbell, 42,000 people from B.C. have volunteered their services and half of the private funds raised for the bid have come from outside the province. I ask the B.C. Liberal leader about Ontario’s election, and who he would like to see win. “I don’t root for anyone,” he tells me, “but Ernie [Eves] worked well with me on health care at the First Ministers’ Meeting [in February in Ottawa]. He did a good job and I appreciate that.” I bite the bullet. “How are things going since your DWI conviction?” I expect to see him recoil, get up and leave, and/or flash me a hurt look. He does none of the above. It’s as though I’ve asked him about the weather. “I can tell you this,” he says. “The people of the province have been very generous to me — kind and understanding. And I got very nice notes from people in Ontario and other parts of the country as well.” Not wanting to paint too rosy a picture perhaps, he says, “Of course, I didn’t want it to happen to me. No one wants it to happen to them, but I have to be forthright about it.” And forthright he is.

At the time of his arrest, I read that Premier Campbell had made a promise never to drink again, and by all accounts he hasn’t had a drop since. I also read that his alcoholic father committed suicide when the Premier was only 13. Telling me that he has learned a hard lesson, the Premier adds, “My generation has to learn it the most, not to drink and drive. I think younger people understand it better. They’ve got a culture built around it already — including designated drivers.”

Maybe that’s the reason some of the younger generation are not as forgiving: The Premier has become a poster boy for an anti-drinking-and-driving campaign at the University of Saskatchewan. “This is what our generation has got to learn,” he says, pressing the point. Aware that there were numerous calls for his resignation, Campbell admits he was worried he would have to resign. Of the whole experience, he says, “Other people will make their own decisions, but I hope they learn from my experience. I have learned. It would be great if people can learn without going through what I had to go through.” Then, after reflecting a moment, he says, “The important lesson here is that you don’t drink and drive — period.” His goal for the future, he tells me, is “to get this province turned around. I want to be Premier of B.C. forever.” he laughs, adding, or at least for the next two years.” The next election is scheduled for May 17, 2005.

I must say I was pleasantly surprised at Campbell’s willingness to speak so candidly at a public event about what is, undoubtedly, the lowest point in his political career. From what I hear, and to everyone’s surprise, reports are that polls over the past few months indicate the incident hasn’t hurt the Premier. Some suggest that’s because of the forgiving nature of the B.C. electorate; others suggest it’s because of the man himself. Time, of course, will tell. But I must admit, I’ve always appreciated a man who could say he’s sorry and mean it.

by Sharon Dunn

Tailor James

Miss June draws the line at Penthouse

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Miss June draws the line at Penthouse
Nothing wrong with tasteful nudity, says bunny from Caledon

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
Tailor James calls her appearance in Playboy “a stepping stone.”
I go to a local Chapters to pick up the June issue of Playboy, but I can’t find one, not even in the “Men’s Interests” section, so I ask a clerk, then cringe as he yells loudly to another employee, “Do we have any Playboys?”All eyes turn to me, or at least that’s how it feels.Turns out they don’t have the magazine, so I quietly tiptoe from the store, trying not to draw any more attention to myself.My next stop is a Mac’s Milk, where they keep Playboys behind the counter. Do you have the June issue, I ask the clerk.He nods, then just stands there.Can I have one?He gives me a strange look as he rings up the mag, and I’m so uncomfortable with my purchase that I find myself explaining that I need it to prepare for an interview with Miss June.He shrugs. Obviously, he couldn’t care less. So what’s my problem, for heaven’s sake?All of which is to explain that I am not at all like the June centrefold, a healthy-looking young woman named Tailor James from Caledon, Ont. She is totally at ease with the idea of being totally naked in the magazine.”I’m not embarrassed at all,” she tells me when we talk. “I even showed my dad, and he’s very supportive.” Dad, who works for the Board of Education, is featured in one of the Playboy shots, fully clothed, thank God.James says her journey to the centrefold began when she went to Chicago for a test shoot for Playboy, which resulted in her becoming Cybergirl of the Month at www.playboy.com. Then she went to Los Angeles for the magazine shoot and met the 77-year-old founder of the magazine, Hugh Hefner — who has seven girlfriends, according to James.”I stay at the mansion in Hombly Hills, or the guest house next door, when I go to L.A.”When I ask if Hef is sexy, she says, diplomatically, that “his personality is very sexy.”James, who dates her high-school sweetheart and believes in “marriage for life,” tells me that Hef’s “main” girlfriend, Holly, shares his bedroom. The other six have their own bedrooms.And what does Holly do when one of the other girls comes to see Hef?”I guess they share,” she says, every bit as shocked as I am.Having explored the mandatory Hefner angle, I now change my approach. Journalists interviewing Playmates tend to ask the typical 36-24-36 types of question. I’m determined not to do the same. I ask James whether she feels America should have pursued a war in Iraq.”Honestly, I really don’t agree with it,” she tells me. “Innocent lives were lost. With all their intelligence and high tech, they could have gone a different route to deal with the situation. But”, she adds, “I really don’t blame the Americans at all, especially the soldiers who were just doing their jobs.”And she believes there was a downside to all those journalists reporting their experiences with the U.S. troops. The result is that the war was glamorized. “I don’t think the media should have been there.”She also has strong views about SARS, and the overreaction to it at the expense of the Chinese community. “I really think they’re blowing the whole thing out of proportion. I’m not worried at all,” she insists (and indeed proved it by dining in Chinatown last week).Clearly, James is a thoughtful woman, so I can’t help asking her why women still want to be Playboy centrefolds.”We’re using it as a stepping stone,” she says simply. “Besides, it’s very tastefully done if you compare it to other magazines. I would never, never do Penthouse, no matter how much they paid me.” (Speaking of which, Miss June tells me she was paid US$25,000 to do the spread, and receives $1,500 a day for promotional appearances.)She adds, “I think there are a lot of feminists who don’t agree with it, but women fought for their rights for years and this is my right. A lot of women have insecurities, but I was brought up confident and I believe in myself. Maybe some women are just jealous.”Yikes. That would seem like a good time to stop.

by Sharon Dunn

Micky Dolenz

Former Monkee just doesn’t have ‘The Hero’ face

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Former Monkee just doesn’t have ‘The Hero’ face
Micky Dolenz plays the villain in Toronto production of Aida

[Photo: Peter Redman, National Post]
Micky Dolenz has been in show business since he was 10 years old.


He doesn’t look like a Monkee. Hell, he doesn’t even look like Micky Dolenz. When the former drummer and lead singer of The Monkees meets me for dinner at the Delta Chelsea Inn, I’m taken aback. He looks like he could be Micky’s dad, maybe, but I certainly wouldn’t recognize him if I saw him walking down the street. Yes, time marches on. And this, Dolenz tells me, is exactly his plight. Ever since the ’60s, he’s been unable to shake the image. “After the Monkees, it was hard to get parts. If I did get something, it was to play myself, the drummer from The Monkees,” he says. “When I would go in for acting auditions, I would hear, ‘What are you doing here, we don’t need any drummers.’ ” Dolenz, who is appearing in Elton John and Tim Rice’s Aida, Disney’s musical love story at the Canon Theatre, says, “Money follows art, art doesn’t follow money. The reason I know that is because I’m from a show biz family. Fortunately my dad was very levelheaded. It was a business, we didn’t grow up in the typical Beverly Hills kind of environment. I was born on a chicken farm in San Fernando Valley, California.”

Dolenz thinks that surviving a long time in the business (he starred in NBC’s series Circus Boy at the age of 10) has a lot to do with the way he was raised.”To me, it’s not about being famous,” he tells me. “I guess it’s because I’ve always been famous. I love the success but in this business the success is proportionate to the fame you have. I’d prefer to be a successful lawyer and be anonymous.” I almost choke on my food, when I think of the many disgruntled lawyers I know. “I don’t want you to say that I’m down on fame,” he continues. “It’s just that it hasn’t driven me.” At one time, he says, he aspired to be an architect. But though that dream didn’t come true, he says he wants to be acknowledged for the work he does, which includes acting, writing and directing (he directed Bugsy Malone for the London stage.

At this point I look up and realize he is in some distress. “I get overheated very easily,” he explains, as I assure him that it happens all the time with my dates. “I had laryngitis last week in Columbus. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten up for that early morning show [Canada AM].” But then he gets back to the nature of fame and, more specifically, his Toronto gig. “Getting this part in Aida is one of the most important career opportunities in my life since The Monkees. I enjoy singing big time in Aida, and I’m the villain [Zoser], which is even more important to me. He’s not the villain in the Disney sense, he’s ‘menacing, dangerous, very powerful, power hungry, ambitious”, he says. Clearly he is very happy to be playing the bad guy. “Before the Monkees, I played the delinquent kid, the punk, because of my face. I don’t have ‘The Hero’ face.”

Dolenz is an unusual interview in that he is openly hard on himself. “In Aida, I only sing two songs. I normally sing a range and even though it’s a rock show, I have to sell it. Last night, I wasn’t up to par,” he says. “My voice wasn’t 100%. That was a bit disappointing. My understudy had to do three shows in Columbus.”I have a sudden inspiration. I ask Dolenz’s publicist to go to a nearby drugstore and get him some Buckley’s Mixture cough syrup, a lifesaver for me. When she returns, he gamely takes a teaspoon of the nasty-tasting concoction and I assure him that Friday night’s audiences will be pleased with his performance…”Let me know”, I say as we part… I havn’t heard from him since.


by Sharon Dunn