The Beach-Riverdale Mirror

The latest business involving our beloved Mounties underscores the fact that in these uncertain times, we need more than ever in our history people and institutions that are a source of pride to us all.

But we don't just need heroes, we need heroes who will withstand the test of time and the rigours of close scrutiny, and it saddens me to discover that too many of today's lot aren't quite up to the job.

This is in stark contrast to the heroes I idolized as a youth. Their reputations remain untarnished and their exploits will always be standards that the rest of us can only hope to emulate.

My heroes continue to fit that description, people like the late Syl Apps, who led the Maple Leafs to Stanley Cups many years ago; John L. Sullivan, the redoubtable bare knuckle champion; Eve Curie and others like her whose medical accomplishments helped bring us the quality of life we enjoy today.

They are heroes, but even heroes are not immortal so who can we find to take their places?

Maybe they're like crops where you have good years and bad years, but these days when they appear to be in short supply I am pleased to report that I have a hero, and what's more I and The Wife saw him perform recently at Massey Hall.

His name is Leon Redbone and although he has lived in the United States for years, he has Toronto roots that go back to the days when he performed at folk clubs such as the Riverboat in Yorkville when that area was a beacon for young men and women with alternative lifestyles.

To say that Leon plays the guitar is only telling part of the story. He does in truth play the guitar while he sings ragtime classics and Tin Pan Alley standards that date back almost three quarters of a century.

And while the guitar part is easy to understand and appreciate, the singing part takes some work. Leon doesn't exactly sing, he groans and mutters and unleashes soulful howls and then every once in a while if you listen very closely you can hear him deliver a verse or two from some timeless old standard.

When he is through he just plain stops playing without any of the dramatic flourishes or ear-piercing strumming that is a trademark of today's performers, then he launches into the next number.

Leon is a gifted artist and an enchanting performer and all evening he was awarded the highest compliment an audience can bestow; total silence when he played.

When his gig was over, far too soon for everybody's liking, he picked up his guitar and left the stage without any encores or loitering around to sign autographs. But I didn't care, because he's my hero.