From the Desk of Tony Vicar - Dundurn
Apr 19, 2024

From the Desk of Tony Vicar

To Whom it May Concern,

Someone has written books about me and claims to know my private life. Let me state for the record: it’s all made-up hogwash. I have never known anyone named Vince R. Ditrich. His stories are completely dreamt up. He was never there.

            It is true that I met my girlfriend Jacquie while she bartended a wedding where I was doing an Elvis impersonation, but everyone knows that. I think we both had a bit too much to drink and I’m a bit blurry on all the details. I do remember still wearing stick-on sideburns when we woke up together.

            It’s also true that we were first to arrive at a car crash after our first official date (which sucked by the way -- the restaurant was as pretentious as a tiara on a Schnauzer). But it’s not true that I brought one of the victims back to life after she died in the ditch. At least I don’t think it’s true. I keep on going over it again and again in my mind. If I brought her back, it was my first time, that’s for sure.

            Anyway … yeah, the press got a hold of what happened and of course made it sound like I was some kinda magic man. Everyone was paying attention to me and I even had a stalker – who had her own gang to boot. Her name was Serena and she was super bad news. The books blab on and on about all the awful stuff she did and what she was thinking, but I think the author is full of it.

            Eventually, Serena kidnapped Jacquie. Somehow, I managed to talk her into surrendering. Ditrich, the author, claims that I convinced her to give up by singing to her terribly. He can bite me. I’m an awesome vocalist and she was digging it.

            I let Serena think I was going to run away with her, so I guess I tricked her. But whatevs, she ended up in huge trouble; then the fertilizer really hit the ventilator – I became so famous that I had to go into hiding.

It took us a couple of years to get the hotel and old beer parlour renovated and we broke the bank on the new pub. The Knickers is the best local anyone has ever seen.

            The books talk all about our hotel ghost, which the author claims frightened me. I was not afraid at all. Stuff like that doesn’t affect me. I knew I was imagining all of it. Well, I was pretty sure.

            My old buddy and the drummer in my band, Cosmic Ray, came back from wherever he’d been wandering and told me he had been abducted by a flying saucer. Yeah, right. But Farley and I, (Farley’s my bass player) wanted to get our band back together so I didn’t call BS.

            Round about then some creep named Richard X Dick from a gossip internet site came to Tyee Lagoon to do a series of stories on me. Dick thought I was lying about everything, that it was a con job for publicity. He had the hots for Jacquie too, but Jacquie would rather have had a tryst with a wart-ridden iguana.

            Out of the blue, a baby girl was plopped on our doorstep late one evening, in the middle of a heavy blizzard. There was no power, no water, no phones. We were left to care for her. A little stressful, y’know?

            Jacquie nearly gave up on me because of a hit piece done by Dick Dick. It was tough. I do not know how this author cat knew about it. Personally, I think he might have been surveilling us, just like Dick Dick and his idiot sidekick Handlanger.

            Long story short, Dick and his annoying cameraman stalked us for months, and set fire to the hotel in a reckless stunt gone wrong. I had to go upstairs through flames and smoke to rescue baby Frankie and the grandson of our good friend Merri Crabtree. They were napping in a hotel room. We nearly didn’t make it out.

            That’s where all the real hocus-pocus happened. The babies and I were trapped. There was no way out. We were going to die. Some young guy came down the stairs and walked us through the flames to safety. We should not have survived.

            It sure seemed real. Incredibly, terrifyingly, desperately real. Jacquie thought I’d had a hallucination brought on by the stress of the event, that I had imagined the rescue — but my head server, Ann Tenna, saw the guy bring us through the flames, too. We figured out later that it had to be the hotel ghost, Valentine. Ditrich’s books, mostly full of crap, was at least accurate that I was gobsmacked by the fire and the ghost. I thought I might have lost my mind.

             Once I discovered that Dick and Handlanger were the culprits of the blaze, I took my pound of flesh; the pair fled back to Hollywood. If I ever lay eyes upon them again

The hotel had been mostly wrecked but the pub survived. Singed and smoky, but upright.  

             Two television psychics, Debbie and Dawna, the ‘Extra-Large Mediums of Littleton’ convinced me to let them film an episode of their show in the hotel and pub. I promised long ago to never do such a silly thing. Jacquie was displeased.

            That was another crummy situation on my descent into depression. I just couldn’t stand being normal and responsible. Weird is better. Maybe that’s why I liked playing in a band so much. You never know when you just might write a huge hit and all your worries evaporate!

            The Extra-Large Mediums couldn’t find the hotel ghost and made up a lot of fake setups that were ridiculous. I hated it and couldn’t wait to get rid of them.

            Serena decided she wanted me, and suddenly decided she wanted her baby back. Her baby was OUR baby, but only Serena knew this. She would be happy to kill Jacquie to take the baby away and she thought I would become her boyfriend. Screws loose? No, screws are completely absent. Anyway, Jacquie took care of that scary situation. She really stopped Serena in her tracks. You have to read the book I guess, ‘cause I didn’t show up until it was nearly over.

            We got word that we could officially adopt baby Frankie, who we had been fostering for two years. I finally knew where I was in this world, like really, truly understood. I honestly don’t know how that nosy author figured all of it out.

T. Vicar
Tyee Lagoon, British Columbia, Canada

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Vince R. Ditrich is the author of The Liquor Vicar as well as the drummer and manager of the band Spirit of the West. He has circled the world, earned more than a dozen gold and platinum albums, and been enshrined in several Halls of Fame. Vince lives on Vancouver Island. Learn more here.