by Larry Smith
It was the days of wine and roses all over again.
A couple dozen middle-aged folks sitting beneath a moonless sky savouring one of Pat Rahming's rare musical excursions; and singing along to "a passing breeze filled with memories", like the pensioners we all thought we'd never be.
They are not long, those days of wine and roses. But in the company of relatives in the Ebenezer graveyard, we entered for a time into the misty dream of the 1960s, when Pat honed his personality performing folk music while studying architecture in Montreal.