Ron Lenhan: A passion for Presley

Whether or not Elvis lives, of course, is a major subject of debate. But the spirit of Elvis, as embodied by one Ron Lenhan (pronounced Lennon, like another musical great of the period), is alive and well and residing -- by day, at least -- on the second floor of the James Ferrier Building where Lenhan works in the sheet metal shop.

It's hard to miss him over by the metal-working machines. His full head of gray hair -- the result of "not wearing a hat," says the 56-year-old Lenhan, whose father went bald -- sculpted into the early Elvis's trademark roll at the front, "duck-ass" at the back and held in place by a combination of hairspray and water is a dead give-away. Not to mention the gold locket of Elvis sitting on the collar of his trademark, back-to-front black t-shirt.

Even with his car, Lenhan's affiliation with the King is announced on the front plate (ELVIS), and the 30 tapes he carries inside are either by Presley or of the same period.

Why the identification with Elvis? "Because he changed people's lives. We were all looking for something different and he changed the style," recalls Lenhan, who grew up one of three children of a steel company worker and a stay-at-home mother in Pointe St-Charles.

The charismatic, hip-swaying, sneering Elvis was a radical figure back when he began his career, firmly entrenching rock and roll as a musical form for the ages. He created a template for smouldering rebellion that has served as a model for scores of musicians and actors ever since.

How about the tubby, Las Vegas-era Elvis? Lenhan just shakes his head, lamenting how his idol lost his way.

Elvis's was a style that Lenhan adopted at age 14 and has maintained ever since. Even when the King wore a crew cut for his military service from 1958 to 1960, Lenhan followed suit.

"Here's a photograph of me with my hair growing out," says Lenhan, standing in the basement playroom of his Ville LaSalle duplex which houses an impressive collection of Elvis memorabilia. "I've been told I look like Sean Penn in that photo." Sure enough, there is a resemblance in the lean face and the intense blue eyes.

In his own way, Lenhan too has changed people's lives. At the sheet metal shop, for instance, his wit and knowledge of the music of the '50s and '60s is well appreciated, says Jean Perrault, supervisor of the sheet metal and plumbing departments. "Just yesterday, Ron had his guitar in the shop with a bunch of fellows and they were singing along.

"He's a comedian and he makes us laugh with what he says."

Perrault, who has known Lenhan for all the 13 years he has worked at McGill, calls him an "excellent worker who never stops."

Lenhan certainly appreciates his job at McGill, which involves anything to do with metal in any of the downtown campus's 153 buildings, including the Royal Victoria Hospital.

On this particular week, for instance, among the pile of jobs to do, Lenhan will be fixing the dampers and coils in the heating system in the pathology department of the hospital and repairing a desk in the Macdonald Engineering building.

"Winter," says Lenhan, who always carries a pager, "is the busiest time of the year because of the heating systems."

At age 43, Lenhan was a relative latecomer to McGill, having been laid off by Northern Telecom in 1985, and he's very grateful to have been offered the work. "What I like about this job is that you never know what you're going to do next."

Lenhan never got to see the King in action. In the late '50s, when the rock phenomenon was destined to play Montreal, Cardinal Leger "said 'not in Quebec' and Elvis performed instead in Ottawa," recalls Lenhan. Young Ron's parents refused to allow their eldest to head off to Ottawa all by himself for the show.

Lenhan has, however, been to Graceland where he was especially impressed by the "jungle room" where Elvis would sit with Lisa-Marie (his daughter) to tell her stories.

Sure, Elvis's grave is also there and the bathroom where his drug-bloated body was found on August 16, 1977.

But in Lenhan's shrine to Elvis, there are few images of the bad and sad years. Judging from the preponderance of photos from the glory days of "Jail House Rock," "It's Alright Momma" and the "comeback concert" of 1968 (after another army stint), it's the good times he honours.

Bronwyn Chester

Nuns aren't who you think they are.

That pretty much sums up doctoral candidate Rebecca Sullivan's point of view. A student in the Graduate Program in Communications, she examines how nuns are portrayed in the media.

She says the depictions usually don't have much in common with the way nuns really live their lives. Unfortunately, the media's take on nuns fosters widely held stereotypes that paint sisters in an unflattering light.

Media representations of nuns generally fall into two categories, according to Sullivan -- the "hopelessly naive and childlike" nuns found in the Sister Act films or the "mean and austere nun, waving a ruler around, threatening people," who turned up in a recent episode of Spin City.

She says nuns are actually a lot more sophisticated and worldly than we give them credit for. "Nuns were on the front lines during the civil rights struggle in the '60s. Today, they're out of their habits and working in the community. A typical nun might be a lawyer in a drop-in centre or working in an AIDS hospice or a university teacher," says Sullivan.

"They're highly educated -- most have at least an MA."

And they have a real commitment to helping others, says Sullivan, who's witnessed it first hand.

She once encountered a man on an Internet discussion group who mistook her for a nun. He had a friend who was dying in Haiti without any support and he appealed to Sullivan for help.

She posted a message on an e-mail discussion group popular with nuns. "A sister was with his friend in Haiti that day."

Sullivan says things are improving for nuns in the media. Sister Helen Prejean, an activist who opposes the death penalty in the U.S., has gained a large profile thanks to an appearance on Oprah and the film Dead Man Walking. The recent show, Nothing Sacred, featured an intelligent, thoroughly modern nun.

But Sullivan worries about the impact misleading media depictions have already had on a dwindling group. "Many nuns are in their 70s and there is a real question about the future of nuns. I think their survival depends on a greater understanding of who they are."

It is really distasteful having to deal with colleagues who have debased something I have put much of my life into.


Chancellor-elect Richard Pound, talking to The Washington Post. The vice-president of the International Olympic Committee, Pound headed an investigation into bribery and influence-peddling involving several of his IOC colleagues.

The latest issue of Canadian Lawyer ranks McGill's Faculty of Law as only the ninth best in the country, but Dean of Law Stephen Toope isn't much concerned. "This isn't Maclean's," Toope says of Canadian Lawyer's annual ranking of Canadian law schools. "With Maclean's, you might not like everything about the exercise, but you have to admit it has an impact. This [Canadian Lawyer] has no impact."

The magazine is cagey about the methodology it uses and its rankings of Canadian law firms are also questionable, says Toope.

The ranking exercise is built around survey responses from slightly more than 1,000 recent graduates of Canadian law faculties.

McGill earns a B grade over all, scoring a B+ for the quality of its curriculum and professors and an A- for the quality of its students.

Toope notes that McGill's lowest mark, a C for facilities, ought to receive a major upgrade next year now that the state-of-the-art Nahum Gelber Law Library is fully functional. He also mentions with some satisfaction that 100 percent of the McGill graduates surveyed would recommend the faculty to others.

Testing standards at McGill drew some criticism from former students, according to the magazine. "The general rule at McGill," opined one, is "'Ya pays yer fees, ya gets yer B's.' In other words, whether you studied hard or hardly studied, you always seemed to end up in the B- to B+ range."

Another McGill graduate took aim at law faculties in general. "I think that students are being spoon-fed too much by professors nowadays. The Socratic method may not be popular or even user-friendly, yet I have found little difference between the badgering of a student under the Socratic method and the badgering you can receive as counsel before a judge."

According to Canadian Lawyer, many McGill graduates pointed to the faculty's tradition of offering training in both the civil and common law traditions as "a hidden gem that opens doors to better job opportunities."

I have to admit that after the surgery I felt more exhausted than if I had done five surgeries. There is an emotional element, obviously. It is not easy to take a scalpel and cut someone who is part of you.


Surgery professor Dr. Gaston Schwarz, speaking to The Daily Telegraph about operating on his wife, Maria. One of North America's top plastic surgeons, Schwarz was lobbied by his wife for a year before reluctantly agreeing to perform a facelift on her.