Ace of hearts

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This article was published 30/03/2018 (2724 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The sun hasn’t risen yet when Ace Burpee slips behind the microphone at 103.1 Virgin Radio’s headquarters on Pembina Highway.

It’s the morning after Winnipeg has been slammed with a heavy snowfall, which has led the affable longtime DJ to a realization of sorts.

“All of life’s problems can be solved if someone says, ‘You know what, just rock it back and forth,’” he intones to his listeners, just before 7 a.m. “You can apply this to almost any situation or obstacle that gets in your way. Think of all the situations in our lives that would have been dealt with easier had we realized that before today. Right?

“I would have got my degree. Rocked the prof back and forth. Right? That was a good time. Oh, well.”

Burpee has come by this epiphany honestly. Both he and LTI, one of his co-hosts, spent the previous day following what has become an Ace Burpee Show tradition: setting out on the streets to randomly push stuck vehicles and shovel the walks of senior citizens upon request.

Nothing is planned, really. They just hit the road when the snow begins to pile up. When temperatures dropped below -30 C, they’ll boost cars that won’t start.

“If we plan it, it will suck,” Burpee explained during a commercial break. “Super awesome things will happen when we go.”

Sure, there’s an upside to the show when the hosts perform good deeds. They can post video clips of their exploits on social media and it’s fodder for talk and a few laughs the next morning.

But at its essence, it’s insight into how Burpee’s uniquely manic brain works. Instead of complaining about yet another snow dump or the headaches it creates, he praises the “snow heroes” who spent the previous day coming helping out fellow Winnipeggers with a shovel or a push.

“Sometimes, we treat each other poorly in this town,” he said, back on the air. “But days like yesterday we remember who we’re supposed to be.”

Just remember: rock it back and forth.

Then Chrissy Troy, who has been Burpee’s co-host for 14 years, doubles down with an idea during a break. What if there was a connection made from one of these good deeds? It could happen, she argued. Just do the math.

“Do you think a romance will bud from this?” she asked. “Let’s try and connect someone.”

So they just throw it out there into the ether and wait. After all, the show receives dozens, if not hundreds, of texts during while on-air from listeners in real time. It’s the beauty of improvisation that fuels the show.

The topics of discussion are regular morning-show fodder: the Bachelor finale, a guy who stole an Oscar (momentarily) from winner Frances McDormand and they way people eat Oreo cookies says something about their personality.

Next thing you know, it’s 9 a.m. and the Ace Burpee Show is signing off for another day.

Here’s what most listeners won’t know: Burpee’s day has only just begun. You see, this isn’t a story about what the 43-year-old radio personality does when the microphone is on, it’s about what happens next, what his listeners don’t see or hear.

Just ask Mayor Brian Bowman.

“He (Burpee) does the 100 Most Fascinating Manitobans list every year,” Bowman said. “I would argue he’s the most fascinating Manitoban himself. I mean, the guy’s everywhere, and his positivity is infectious.

“(Every day) he tries to lift people up and empower them to be better Winnipeggers,” the mayor said. “There are so many people I know in every corner of the city who’ve got that little bounce of confidence and attention to either themselves or their causes because of the positivity and spotlight that Ace Burpee has provided for them.”

● ● ●

There are 365 days in a year. For more than 300 of them, David “Ace” Burpee is somewhere in the city working for a cause. It doesn’t matter what, really.

He could be the master of ceremonies at an 800-person gala for the Canadian Cancer Society. He could be at a walk with 40 people to raise money for the homeless. Maybe a fundraiser for the United Way. Or at a classroom promoting the “I Love to Read” program. The list is practically endless for a simple reason: Burpee almost never turns down a request.

Amber Saleem is the Ace Burpee Show producer and official “keeper of the schedule.” Saleem often receives the requests for appearances. She said Burpee’s typical responses are, “We have to help them” or “What can we do for them?”

“What’s just as important to him as what happens on the radio is what happens when we’re not on the radio,” said Saleem, who joined the show about eight years ago. “And, truthfully, that’s when I think we’re working way harder. So the mics get turned off and our days are just beginning. We’re hustling and we’re executing fundraisers because he doesn’t think things should stop at nine o’clock when the show is done.”

“When I’m out with him for events, people will come up to me and say, ‘How does this guy do it? Does this guy ever sleep?’ We laugh about it, but for sure I have to — as his friend — ask him, ‘When do you sleep?’ But he laughs it off. I think this is what drives him. It is who he is. It’s in his heart, it’s in his blood.

“This is when he’s at his best, when he’s giving back to people.”

It’s not just Burpee, either. Troy attends more than 170 events a year, and Lloyd Frobisher (aka LTI) does at least 100 appearances.

Troy vividly remembers the day, shortly after joining the show 14 years ago, when Burpee broached the topic of giving back.

“We were having lunch together and he’s like, ‘I feel we should be doing more. I feel it’s weird we’re leaving after the show. I think there’s more we could help people with.’”

It’s not that the crew’s work has gone unnoticed. In 2014, Troy received the prestigious YMCA-YMWA Women of Distinction Award for public awareness and communication.

“We treat that part of it the same as we treat the on-air stuff,” Troy said. “What do I get out of it? So many relationships. We work with all sorts of different organizations. As much as I like being on the air, I really like that part of it because you really get to see first-hand — like a Bud, Spud and Steak Night — that means the world to them (organizations trying to fundraise). Because people struggle for those things.”

Frobisher began the show as an intern 10 years ago, straight out of broadcasting school. He never left. (LTI stands for Lloyd the Intern.)

He noted that the emphasis on community outreach permeates throughout the station now. “That’s just something that’s engrained when you start working for us. That’s what we do,” he said.

Here’s the deal: prior to Burpee’s arrival on Winnipeg airwaves, the notion of building a morning show around shameless promotion of Winnipeg and championing charity causes — as an overall philosophy — wasn’t the norm. Morning radio was whacky. It was populated by shock jocks or built around edgy pop culture. That was the ticket to grab the ears of the coveted 18- to 25-year-old demographic.

“He took it to another level,” Frobisher said, of Burpee. “He’s the one who started that. He just built this whole brand that centred around community and helping people and being positive. That hadn’t really been done before. People weren’t sure if that was going to sell or compete with other stations, but they found out quickly that people liked it.

“Maybe (it’s) the world we live in. A lot of things you see on the news are negative. And people are on their way to work and they’re tired and maybe grouchy. We’re always positive and always laughing and maybe that picks them up a little bit by the time they get to work. Gets them in the right mind frame.”

“You find out that people want to know about what’s going on in their area, local things that are exciting,” Frobisher concluded. “(Winnipeg) is not a boring town. There’s a lot of stuff going on.”

Burpee’s radio career got off to an inauspicious start. Fresh out of the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology broadcasting school in Calgary at the turn of the century, he landed an internship at CJOB.

He started out writing and producing commercials. Then Vic Grant, the station manager at the time, gave the young wannabe his own one-hour show, which was supposed to be about pop culture.

It stunk. At least, that’s what Burpee believes.

“I think I was just trying to be cool,” Burpee recalled. “I was out of my league. I know I wasn’t a fan of the show, but he (Grant) was very encouraging. Thank goodness I got to do it.”

Grant sat Burpee down and provided a piece of advice he’s never forgotten: “Don’t try to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m big on first impressions and… I knew there would be a future for him,” Grant said. “He always talked about Winnipeg from the start, and his home in Cooks Creek, his mom and dad.

“What you saw is what you get with Dave. He was down to earth from the moment I met him. A lot of people become something other than what they really are in the media business, and he wasn’t one of those at all. He was just Dave Burpee.

“That’s what led him right down the path to success. He’s always had an outgoing personality, a happy-go-lucky attitude, and when he talks like that people know he means it.”

The biggest mistake the station made, said Grant, was letting Burpee get away. Just a few months later, he accepted an offer from Power 97, a hard rock station, working evenings and weekends.

Right away, Burpee was determined to follow Grant’s advice. One of his first ideas was to start a fishing derby to raise money for CancerCare Manitoba.

“People were saying that’s not the sort of thing we do,” Burpee said. “And I was, like, ‘You don’t have to do anything. I’ll do it.’

Besides, Burpee loved fishing. He hated cancer. And it would be a lark. “So I just kept doing it,” he said.

“I didn’t have a playbook,” he added. “There were no roles I tried to emulate or fit into, so I just made it up on my own. Once I realized that you can make people happy from it… that was a bigger payoff than I could ever have known. I mean, you can make someone’s day. And when you’re granted a platform to do that, it’s pretty awesome.

“I’m as insecure as anyone in the world, except for my ideas… if that makes sense. I know when I’ve got a hit.”

Such as the time earlier this year when Burpee asked an offhanded question on the air: “Why hasn’t there ever been a wedding on the river trail?”

Within four days, Burpee was marrying a couple on the frozen Red River, after getting (not for the first time) a one-time certificate to serve as a marriage commissioner.

Or the recent World Borscht Championship, where the winner received some cash and a WWE wrestling-style prize belt.

As usual, Burpee dreams up the ideas and Saleem makes it work.

“Amber can make anything happen,” he said. “It could be the craziest stuff. There’s nothing off the table. Those things aren’t easy.”

Burpee sums up his train of thought in two succinct sentences: “I just love that my whole life is ideas. I’m basically a dreamer that acts on a few of them.”

A few years back, he was babysitting his young niece for his sister, Susie. Home alone, he was trying to watch the World Junior hockey tournament on TV while drinking a beer and doing a crossword puzzle. He thought: How do people with a baby do anything? So he designed a hoodie that also serves as a baby pouch. Then he pitched it on CBC’s Dragons’ Den show and four of the entrepreneur-judges bought into the idea.

“I made zero dollars, but I don’t care,” he said. “I just need to make sure I don’t leave an idea on the table. It makes for a lot of work, but I’d feel worse if I didn’t do anything.”

Asked if he has any other ideas up his hoodie sleeve and Burpee pauses.

“I’m trying to think of one,” he replied, “that I don’t mind if someone steals it.”

● ● ●

Naturally, the quickest way to find out why Burpee is always trying to dream up the next big thing is by speaking to the couple who invented him 43 years ago.

Al and Jane Burpee raised their son David, along with daughter Susie, in Cooks Creek, a hamlet located just northeast of Winnipeg.

“His mind was always on the go,” Jane said. “So he would invent things out in the yard: games or forts. I think his brain was going in a thousand different directions.”

Burpee would spend hours skating on the creek, often alone, emulating his favourite NHL player. He called it a “classic” Canadian childhood, spending the bulk of his time outdoors.

One childhood friend, Mike Clark, said even in elementary school, Burpee’s personality foreshadowed his future career.

“Always funny, always outgoing, always making jokes,” said Clark, a lawyer in Winnipeg. “He told me one time he never wanted there to be silence ever. He felt the need to fill the dead air, and it was always (with) humour.”

During his senior year, Burpee was elected high school president. “And it was all on his humour. Everybody loved him. The speech he made in the gymnasium had everybody rolling. He hasn’t changed at all that way.”

Burpee excelled in sports, setting provincial records in the 100-metre and 200-metre races in high school. After playing minor hockey in Oakbank, both Burpee and Clark suited up for the Beausejour Comets Jr. B team.

Said Burpee: “I was, for sure, the worst player in franchise history.”

So that explains Burpee’s obsession with sports, and his insistence on being called “Ace” that began in his teenage years. (More on that later.)

His passion for throwing himself into a seemingly endless stream of charity causes has roots in Burpee’s youth, too.

Father Al worked for years with the YMCA-YWCA in Winnipeg. Mother Jane was an occupational therapist at the Selkirk Mental Health Centre. Their son often tagged along to their respective jobs.

“He really has a lot of passion and empathy for people going through stuff, particularly mental-health issues,” Jane said. “He really feels it deeply.”

It’s true, Burpee says he’s most “at peace” when speaking to those who struggle with issues such as anxiety or depression.

“I’m most in my element,” he said. “One hundred per cent, I get it. You can directly affect someone face to face because they’re right in front of you.”

Burpee is a big part of Project 11, the True North Youth Foundation’s program to raise awareness about mental-health issues for Manitoba students. Burpee hosted Project 11’s first annual symposium and is featured in their videos, which are shown in classrooms.

He’ll pay a visit to someone who is struggling and reaching out.

“I know what sort of things people do to themselves,” he said, referring to the “tricks” their brains are telling them. “It’s like when someone walks into a room convinced that everyone hates them. I’ll do that even though I know it’s not true. Somehow, I know both sides.

“You can learn things from that. You can help people with that… from the largest stage to someone who reaches out that you’ll never know.”

“That whole world still fascinates me,” Burpee added. “I don’t think I’m done with it, career-wise or life-wise. I don’t know in what capacity, but I feel like I have more to give on that subject.”

Roots can explain a lot. Just like Burpee’s non-apologetic, pro-Winnipeg boosterism.

To explain, he tells a story.

“I never pretended to like Winnipeg,” he began. “I just liked it. I didn’t know anyone outside this city didn’t like us.”

That was before Burpee attended a party at his sister’s apartment in Ottawa years ago, not long after he graduated.

“There’s a guy there who says, ‘Who are you?’ I say I’m Susie’s brother. He says, ‘Where are you from?’ I say, ‘Winnipeg’. He says, ‘Winnipeg sucks.’ I go, ‘Cool story. Get the f— out.’ He’s, like, ‘Are you serious?’ I go, ‘Yeah, you’re out.’”

“I’d never heard that. Didn’t even know. People don’t like us?”

“I’m so Winnipeg,” he added. “My favourite thing in the world is the underdog. In life or whatever. The only time I was allowed to pick the family dog I knew what I picked, she wasn’t going to last long. And she didn’t. And I’m fine with that.”

It’s just like the time, six years ago, when Burpee was asked by the Winnipeg Humane Society if he wanted to foster a Rottweiler-mix that had ripped its own foot out of a trap. They sent Burpee a picture of the dog. He drove straight from reading to students in La Salle to the humane society and adopted “Bally” on the spot.

“She’s the best,” he said. “I love dogs more than almost everything else combined.”

Some attitudes are just baked in. Which is why Burpee doesn’t complain about his non-stop schedule, reasoning, “My mom could do more things in one day than I ever could. And she never felt sorry for herself once for having to do 50 things in one day.

“I certainly don’t settle for good enough, and I don’t get burnt out or run out of ideas. I’m not complacent.”

If Burpee does take a rare vacation lately, it’s to send his parents on vacation. He took his father, an avid salmon fly-fisherman, to cast in Iceland and Norway. He took his mother to Somerset, England, where she was born, to meet family and friends. Said Jane, of her son: “He was visiting with 70-year-old women and he didn’t mind at all. It was lovely.”

Not surprising, both mom and dad are pleased with their son’s philanthropic ways.

“We’re very proud of him and humbled by what he does,” Jane noted. “I’ve worked in mental health for years, but he goes across all barriers.”

Al still rises every morning listening to his son’s show. And he’s grown accustomed to seeing David’s face plastered on billboards and o buses.

“At one time,” Al Burpee said, “he was a little fart we’d go to hockey games together — or whatever dads and sons do — and I would always say, ‘This is my son, David.’ I’d introduce him to people. But as the years went by and he became more recognized in the community than his father ever was, it switched over to people saying, ‘Oh, you’re Ace Burpee’s dad. Wow!’”

For the record, Al is cool with that.

● ● ●

Pro tip: If you want someone to return your calls, phone a few charitable organizations and tell them you’re doing a story about Ace Burpee. They can’t call back fast enough.

“He’s one of the most passionate Winnipeggers I know,” said United Way CEO Connie Walker. “And I also marvel at all the events and causes he’s out supporting. He just has a way of rallying our spirit to make a difference. He’s remarkable.

“And every time I see him, he has this energy. He’s dancing. He’s engaging with the audience. He’s telling jokes. He’s just on his game all the time, and his game is about making a difference in this city.”

Walker dots the conversation with words such as “creative,” “fun,” “caring,” “inclusive” and “passionate.”

“He could do many things with his time and his talent, and he chooses to do it for good,” she said. “That’s just so cool. We’re so lucky to have him in our city.”

Burpee has been doing appearances for the United Way for more than a decade. Same goes for the Alzheimer Society of Manitoba.

“He just brings such a level of humanity to whatever he does,” said society CEO Wendy Schettler. “He’s so caring and real, and that touches people. We’re thrilled every time he’s able to be there (for the annual gala).

“You know that when he says this is a really important cause and you have to support it, he’s not saying that just because he has to say it. He’s just a real genuine, caring human being and people are drawn to that.”

“You know, he doesn’t have to do this,” Schettler added. “He doesn’t have to go to another dinner that, by the way, he barely gets to eat.”

Annitta Stenning, president and CEO of CancerCare, said Burpee has hosted their major events for more than 10 years: from major galas to day-long events such as the Challenge for Life walk every spring.

During that time, Stenning said Burpee has helped, directly or indirectly, to raise “millions and millions” for CancerCare.

“And these are all events that happen at night or on weekends,” she noted. “So here’s a man with a very full-time job and yet when I think of Ace, I think that ‘no’ is not part of his vocabulary. It’s his gift to our organization, his time.

“From jeans in the park to a tux at a gold-plated gala to a parka, he’s there. So while his dress may change, his personality is so present. He makes it about the cause. It’s not about him, it’s about, ‘What can I do for you guys?’

“He’s a pretty incredible individual. We’re very blessed to have Ace in our world,” Stenning added. “He doesn’t brag about it. His shoutouts are to the cause. He doesn’t put the light on himself, he puts it on the cause. I think a lot of people in our world know about Ace, and that’s why we love him so much.”

Few Winnipeggers would have the perspective on Burpee’s contributions than Mayor Bowman, who also frequents such events each year. The two men also have something in common: They are metalheads from way back, once attending a Judas Priest concert together.

Demurred the mayor: “There was no spandex or hair spray involved, though.”

Apart from Bowman’s appreciation of Burpee’s taste in “good music,” there is an admiration for his Energizer Bunny approach to the many causes he supports.

“I think it’s very difficult for anyone to truly comprehend how hard he works and how active he is in the community,” Bowman said. “And I’ve got a unique perspective because I’m at many of those events with him.

“My sense is he really feeds off the positive energy of the city. It’s kind of a symbiotic relationship. It’s an interesting dynamic to see.”

“It doesn’t matter where he is. It doesn’t matter if there are cameras there, or it’s a large or small event. He’s trying to do what he can to celebrate Winnipeg and celebrate Winnipeggers so they have a little more swagger in their step.

“He may be from Cooks Creek,” Bowman concluded, “but he’s a Winnipegger now.”

However, what’s curious about Burpee’s workload outside of his, well, workload, is that he freely admits it’s not a healthy choice. Every workday, he sets his alarm for exactly 3:47 a.m. (he doesn’t like even numbers) and often two or three nights a week he’s hosting an event until 11 p.m.

Week after week after week.

There are times, during peak gala season, when Burpee jokes it feels like he’s eating every other meal at the convention centre. But the thought of saying turning down an event, when asked, is too overwhelming to contemplate.

“The part I haven’t been able to reconcile, which anyone will tell you is bad, is I get greater anxiety about that time I said ‘no’ to someone,” Burpee explained. “So I’m not good at that. You can’t live like that, yet I’ve never been able to figure out how to do it.

“It haunts me if I do. I just feel guilty. I always feel like I need to be doing something, which anyone will tell you is not smart. You can’t be like that all the time, but I am. But on the flip side, I think I am going to figure it out.”

Consider, too, that there’s no such thing as Burpee strolling into an event without doing his homework. He researches the cause, gets to know the organizers and, when necessary, will memorize the name and accomplishments of anyone being honoured at any given occasion.

“I would never show up for something ill-prepared. Not once,” he insisted. “Because if you’re going to ask me, I’m going to do it. There’s no way I’m going to go through the motions.

“You owe it to them. For me it’s event number, whatever. But for them it’s their only one. So, yeah, you better get it right. You don’t show up and say, ‘What are we doing here?’ That’s amateur hour.

“Plus, you’re going to learn something at all of these things, or someone that you didn’t know before,” he added. “You learn there are a lot of people that will never have an article written about them in the Free Press who are awesome and super caring. They just do it.”

It’s not that Burpee doesn’t have other interests. He’s a voracious reader and he writes and records his own music, just for kicks. He’s still got this idea for a fishing show that he’s keeping a secret. And he offered up two solid story ideas to this reporter in between commercial breaks of his morning show.

But it’s the causes — the people who run them and those who benefit — that remain his priority.

“All the things that he does are the exact reason he’s here,” Saleem reasoned. “He was just meant to help other people. He’s full of ideas and his heart is big and he’ll make room for everybody. That’s what drives him, just knowing that he is contributing. He loves Winnipeg, he loves Manitoba, and he’s never shy to shout that from the rooftops.

“I think that’s what keeps him going, to feel that sense of accomplishment.”

Burpee has another theory.

“If I don’t have anything to do,” he said, “I’m useless to the world.”

● ● ●

So Burpee has kept the vow he made years ago: to fill the dead air.

Even his old childhood friends are impressed.

“Super proud of him, definitely,” Clark said. “Really, in Winnipeg there’s nobody who gives their time like him. He’s still the same guy. His family is super-charitable and big in the community. He hasn’t fallen far from the tree. He’s used his local fame to do so many amazing things.”

Which brings us, finally, to that nickname, which also came about in a very Burpeean fashion.

“What he used to say to us, having beers, was ‘How come nobody has great nicknames anymore, like Rocket Richard or Ace Bailey?’” Clark recalled. “He said, ‘We should give each other names. You guys should call me ‘Ace.’

“But you know how you can’t pick your own nickname, right? So it never stuck. We said, ‘No, you’re Dave or Burpee. And he’d sign emails ‘Ace’ and stuff and we’d say, ‘No, we’re not calling you ‘Ace.’

“Finally he made it in radio and said, ‘Hey, guys, I’ve got a show on Power 97. You guys should listen. So we turned on the radio and it was called Ace Burpee’s Funhouse.

“And we thought, ‘Well, you did it. You picked your own nickname.’ And the better he got, the more famous he became, so I call him Ace now.

“I said I never would, but I think he’s earned it.”

randy.turner@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @randyturner15