THE FRINGE

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Coincidence

A few weeks ago my spouse and I attended a concert where some opera buffs sounded forth in a vigorous fashion.

Beside us was a couple from Humboldt, Sask.

As the woman sitting next to me chatted to her husband I overheard her mention a career in journalism.

“I, too, lived off the avails of journalism,” said I.

“Oh, what newspaper?” she asked.

“The Western Producer.”

“You’re not Keith Dryden?”

It turned out she is Margaret (Kristjansson) Madsen, who, from 1960 to 1964 edited what we then called the YC Pages.

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This was a department where young people could write stories, poems, articles and develop their creative writing skills. Marg also did reporting for the “women’s department,” and magazine features.

“But you’re so small,” she said, looking me over. “And you’ve got wrinkles.”

(She has quite a large husband named John, and most other people suffer by comparison. As for the wrinkles, I assured her I had come by them honestly in the last 34 years).

Marg and John lived and worked in Alberta and then had spent the last several years near Winfield, B.C., raising three children, Arabian horses, goats and holding down one job each.

This past year, in search of winter sunshine, they unloaded the livestock and moved to a nice suburban residence in Humboldt. The offspring look after themselves.

We didn’t get much chance to talk due to the uproar from the stage, so a week or so later we went out to check Madsen manor and reminisce. I wonder what the odds were against two former fellow wage slaves ending up side by side in a theatre after 34 years of going our separate ways.