This post may piss some people off, but I don’t really care. Tonight I saw a piece on the news that infuriated me. There is a move afoot to change the name of the Christmas tree.
Apparently the forces of political correctness would rather it be called a “Holiday tree”. What utter rot. What purpose does this possibly serve? This is nothing more than a foolish waste of time. Has our society completely lost its fucking mind?
Now I’m not much of a Christian. Truthfully a lot of that collection of beliefs makes me equally angry, however, it strikes me that this kind of nonsense just serves to highlight differences rather than embrace them.
Thanks to guilty feeling white folks, we have successfully re branded Christmas. It’s no longer good practice to wish people “Merry Christmas” now it has to be “Happy Holidays.” I for one refuse to say that. I will not utter those words. I will say Merry Christmas, or Happy Hanukkah (Joyous Kwanzaa… etc.)
I am a firm believer that every single person in the world should have the right to practice their own traditions. Buddhists, Christians, Muslims, Wiccans, and everyone else big and small should have their rights and freedoms protected. (Celebrations of faith inclusive.) Show me a petition and I’ll sign it, give me a march and I’ll be first in line, but I will not embrace sheltering others from our traditions. Especially the ones we hold the dearest.
I am more than willing to join others in celebrating different traditions, but at no point do I want people to change them. It is not my right to interfere. (Unless it causes harm to others…)
Imagine changing the name of a Menorah to “Holiday Candelabra”. That would never happen. What would happen if we insisted that Ramadan be renamed “Period of Self Denial and Reflection.” Imagine the uproar that would cause. Imagine a Crucifix being called “The Magic T.”
Perhaps we should just do our thing and just not worry about it. Last time I checked Christmas was not a celebration of intolerence, so we should stop treating it that way.
I'm pretty sure most people wouldn't give a hoot. Why would they? At no point is this designed to run over someone else's cultural differences, just to celebrate our own.
Until then... I'm gonna put decorations on the Christmas Tree.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
11/29/05 Abuse Your Illusions
This is a fantastic book. If you like a little conspiracy theory then this is the book for you.
It's been condemed by the likes of Ann Coulter, Bill O'Reiley, and Rush Limbaugh... So you know it's gotta be good.
There are some really good articles in here from Howard Zinn, Greg Palast and William Blum.
Check it out.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
11/22/05 Sympathy for the Devil...
I am a firm believer that our sins follow us, lurking behind in the shadows. No matter where we go in our lives, they will always be with us. (Spooky huh?) It doesn’t mean that we can’t expose them for what they are, only that they are a constant and usually unwelcome travelling companion… To me they are like a stowaway on the soul, or a bitchy neighbour that refuses to fuck off and move.
My friend Daniel once compared it to dragging mines behind you, with the belief that if you slow down even for an instant, it could have catastrophic results. I think I agree to a certain extent, but from that catastrophe comes resolution, and usually freedom.
I also believe those same sins play a major part in defining our character. (Whether we like it or not.) In some ways, the exposition of our flaws and lapsed judgement are far more telling about us than we would like to believe. Sadly, the good stuff tends to get lost in the shuffle. Only by seeing one’s character undone, do we ever really get to see the mettle that someone’s made of. How’s that for irony?
But that’s the way society wants it anyway. (Which speaks to society’s sins too…) We celebrate the downfall of others with overwhelming zeal. Few things entertain us more than watching someone’s life fully and completely implode. I must admit I love it. Seeing some poor schmuck get done it by his own stupidity is more entertaining to me than a good hockey game. (Hopefully I won’t get struck by lightening for saying that…)
That’s not to say that the good things in our character should be ignored. There must after all be some sense of balance; otherwise the whole thing would go to shit. Hell our world has heroes, who rise to the occasion when needed, and without them we would have no moral compass. (Here in lies that balance.)
But we have villains too. Without them we’d likely be unable to examine our darker selves. Everyone has a seedy underbelly. The Pope’s got one, and so does your mom, it’s the nature of who we are. It’s normal.
That is unless you happen to be Gary Glitter. Then you have stepped outside of normal. Normal is not even on the map. Sadly, Gary is in the middle of his catastrophe. His mines collided the second he decided to pursue Vietnamese children for sex. His resolution and freedom apparently will come guised as a firing squad. That poor dumb bastard. Instead of getting help for his problems, he chose the stupid plan.
Something tells me there will be no “Rock & Roll part 3” in anyone’s future.
His sins come from an inability to deal with a fading identity, and a lifetime of excess. It’s funny how indulgences can seem trivial at the time, but come with their own set of problems. I suspect if you were to ask him before he became a success, or even at the mid point of his career where he’d be in 2005, I doubt highly he would ever say “Um facing the death penalty for screwing little Asian girls.”
I’ve heard a lot of people over the years complain that the world is going to hell in a hand basket. I have never believed it. Not once. I think it’s just our sins coming to collect on a debt.
Perhaps if we took less time to celebrate notorious lifestyles, and spend a little more of it dealing with our shit, we’d all be happier.
Friday, November 18, 2005
11/18/05 Stop Me if You Think You've Heard This One Before...
When I was in college I had a classmate that refused to believe that man descended from apes. Now, he was a quite religious fellow, (Actually he was selectively religious… As I find most are…) and believed in the biblical creation story, including the whole Adam and Eve thing.
I was shocked. I had never met a creationist before. I nearly had to scrape my bottom lip off of the floor. I had always assumed that humans had figured that those stories were more about subtext and less about the literal plot line.
Shortly after that conversation with him, I traveled to the United States. I was in North Dakota, and low and behold I met another creationist, and then another, and another. I felt like I had been teleported to the middle ages. I wondered if I should bring up the “concept” of a globe shaped planet or discuss how the earth travels on an elliptical path around the sun.
Lately there has been a lot of debate about how life started on earth. There are three main camps, Evolutionists, Creationists, and those who believe in Intelligent Design. I would fall into the first camp. I’m a firm believer in science. Perhaps it comes from discoveries that lean very heavily towards Darwin’s theories. One needs only to gaze upon the Australopithecus and Neanderthal to see a distant relative of Homo sapiens.
In addition, given the racial diversity on this planet, I find it difficult to believe that someone (i.e. God) waved a magic wand and POOF… Suddenly there were whites and blacks, Asians and Aboriginals. It just seems too neat and tidy. Humans have struggled since the dawn of our existence, and it only makes sense that Mother Nature might have made some changes along the way to move us forward. (Some could argue that she did too much…)
That being said, I am always willing to entertain a debate. I figure in the grand scheme of things I know squat, zip, zero, nada. Challenge me… It will likely be good for both of us.
Creationists on the other hand reject science completely. (Well… At least in terms of how we got here… Cancer treatments on the other hand…). They believe that humans owe their existence to God. I take no issue with that belief… I figure if that’s what gets you through the day then good on you.
I do however have a problem with absolutes. Most creationists seem to totally unwilling to even entertain other ideas. I find that brings out the Doubting Thomas in me. Show me the holes… Convince me, or at least try to. (But please leave out the whole bible thing. It may be the word of God… But man wrote it down, and was bound to fuck it up regardless of how it was inspired…)
Using the same logic, serious diseases are God’s responsibility too.
God: I think I need a disease that liquefies internal organs. OOOH… and one that literally eats flesh… and hell why not something that causes cell replication go completely berserk… Oh I know… something that totally destroys immune systems…
As if someone who created and loves us could ever be that cruel…
The most interesting of the three camps seems to be those who embrace Intelligent Design. This in a nutshell is the compromise between creationists and evolutionists.
Basically it comes down to this. The world and all it’s creatures have evolved, but that evolution was planned by a higher power. (God… Little Grey aliens, Bootsy Collins…)
To my way of thinking this is nothing more than fence sitting. It’s like a shitty compromise forced on you by your parents on a family camping trip.
The biggest loophole in this theory is this. Intelligent Design implies ultimately that Paris Hilton, the entire cast of “Friends’, George Bush, and the manatee are all part of someone’s grand scheme.
If that is that is the case, there’s a higher power out there with some serious explaining to do. I could understand a hybrid of Paris and a manatee… I mean, who wouldn’t want to see that. (Although it could be argued that Nicole Ritche might actually be that hybrid…)
Perhaps it’s less of an actual plan, and more of the embodiment of a celestial sense of humour.
Grey #1: Hey Grink… Check this shit out… I call them humans…
Grey #2: No Fuckin’ way… That’s some crazy assed shit… You da bomb Sniglor… Humans… that’s too funny.
On behalf of the manatees (and myself…) I’d just like to say pick one… Then we can move along and evolve.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
11/16/05
I have spent the last few days trying to take stock of where I am in life. Mind you, I’m not looking for any sort of revelation or epiphany; I’m just going over a checklist in my head. What have I achieved? Where am I going next? Etc…
Sometimes I need a moment to peer over what’s been done, and more importantly what needs to get done. It’s a good exercise. I recommend it. You’ll be amazed how much it helps in sorting priorities. I find that most people I know in the real world rarely take the time (or even seem to have the time…) to press the pause button.
I find this kind of mental sifting usually surfaces into my conscience when I’m at the point of complete exhaustion. This time is no different by any stretch. I don’t know why I insist on grinding myself into near oblivion. Perhaps there’s something I need to learn, but I wish I knew how to stop it once in a while. I guess it’s not too terribly different than zany other pattern people fall into, but I think it might be killing me. (Well not in the literal sense…)
I had not one but two shows last night. Both of them were sold out. (Not cause I was on the show… I wish… One day perhaps…) The club was totally packed to the gills. It was a strange Tuesday at Yuks. Normally it’s their amateur night, and there is very little expectation (See none…) to perform. Last night however was a special event. Jaime Kennedy was in town for a couple of quick concert series shows, and I got the call to be the middle act for him.
I was already wiped before the first show, but I managed to give it a decent go. I fuelled up on shitty bar coffee and popcorn, then leapt into action. (Well… I guess it was more of a “Sorta staggered into action” kinda thing… But I digress…). The changes I’ve made in cadence and delivery style are working well and the exhaustion just seemed to enhance them. They appear to give off a sense of agitated frustration, which lends well to my natural character.
The second show was far more fun for me. I managed to shake off the exhaustion and put the jets on. But even better than that, I got to totally railroad a heckler. She had no idea what had hit her. I’m sure she’s sitting at work today trying to figure out why she smells like smoke. (I suspect that crucifixion would have been less painful route for her.)
I lit her up six times. Each time I whacked her, the crowd roared louder, vaulting me to near godhood. That just made her more livid. If only she had been blessed with brains in addition to a trashy mouth. At one point she was trying to “call me out” it was really quite funny. I snapped her like a twig, and had a shit-eating grin on the whole time. I gotta say… It felt really good.
It’s been a great year of change for me. Stand up has changed for me. The wide-eyed enthusiasm I had when I started has mutated. For me now, it has become more about becoming a skilled practitioner of the craft. I love it more than ever, but I have become more focused. The detail involved is becoming more acute to me, and so then the fine-tuning has truly begun in earnest. I’m now more concerned about the nuances of Stand up, and less so about material. I now realize material is more of an anchor and not the whole damn boat like it used to be for me.
Watching Jaime Kennedy taught me a few things too. The first of which is this; ANYONE can do this job. Few do it well, but any schmo with a movie deal can eek out 40 minutes worth of material. (Which says to me that there might be a Gary Sinise concert special sooner than you might think…Imagine just how brilliantly unfunny that would be…)
Kennedy’s act was an exercise in patience. There were so many clumsy hacky things’ going on that it almost made me cry. (Insert Canadian beer jokes, and Dr, Phil impersonations here.) More importantly there was an almost total absence of finesse. (I wasn’t looking for scripting or even polish… but perhaps substance or at least a conscious train of thought.) It was more like watching someone playing the role of a comic in a movie. But then again he brought a documentary crew, so in a way I guess that hits the nail right on the head.
Once in a while he got off on a decent riff, but at no point did he ever look sure-footed. He just looked uncomfortable like an awkward teenager on a first date. Nothing he did stood out. If you were to ask me to recite a joke from his set, I would sadly be unable to. There was nothing that said to me “This man is a star!” It was mediocre at best.
His handler was a dude named Justin. He had an air of arrogance about him. (Gracious but arrogant at the same time…) He seemed to really enjoy name-dropping and generally being a bit of a dork. He kinda looked like a bobble head with good teeth. (He struck me as the kind of dude that doesn’t realize he’s the hired help…)
Anyway I need some sleep…
Sometimes I need a moment to peer over what’s been done, and more importantly what needs to get done. It’s a good exercise. I recommend it. You’ll be amazed how much it helps in sorting priorities. I find that most people I know in the real world rarely take the time (or even seem to have the time…) to press the pause button.
I find this kind of mental sifting usually surfaces into my conscience when I’m at the point of complete exhaustion. This time is no different by any stretch. I don’t know why I insist on grinding myself into near oblivion. Perhaps there’s something I need to learn, but I wish I knew how to stop it once in a while. I guess it’s not too terribly different than zany other pattern people fall into, but I think it might be killing me. (Well not in the literal sense…)
I had not one but two shows last night. Both of them were sold out. (Not cause I was on the show… I wish… One day perhaps…) The club was totally packed to the gills. It was a strange Tuesday at Yuks. Normally it’s their amateur night, and there is very little expectation (See none…) to perform. Last night however was a special event. Jaime Kennedy was in town for a couple of quick concert series shows, and I got the call to be the middle act for him.
I was already wiped before the first show, but I managed to give it a decent go. I fuelled up on shitty bar coffee and popcorn, then leapt into action. (Well… I guess it was more of a “Sorta staggered into action” kinda thing… But I digress…). The changes I’ve made in cadence and delivery style are working well and the exhaustion just seemed to enhance them. They appear to give off a sense of agitated frustration, which lends well to my natural character.
The second show was far more fun for me. I managed to shake off the exhaustion and put the jets on. But even better than that, I got to totally railroad a heckler. She had no idea what had hit her. I’m sure she’s sitting at work today trying to figure out why she smells like smoke. (I suspect that crucifixion would have been less painful route for her.)
I lit her up six times. Each time I whacked her, the crowd roared louder, vaulting me to near godhood. That just made her more livid. If only she had been blessed with brains in addition to a trashy mouth. At one point she was trying to “call me out” it was really quite funny. I snapped her like a twig, and had a shit-eating grin on the whole time. I gotta say… It felt really good.
It’s been a great year of change for me. Stand up has changed for me. The wide-eyed enthusiasm I had when I started has mutated. For me now, it has become more about becoming a skilled practitioner of the craft. I love it more than ever, but I have become more focused. The detail involved is becoming more acute to me, and so then the fine-tuning has truly begun in earnest. I’m now more concerned about the nuances of Stand up, and less so about material. I now realize material is more of an anchor and not the whole damn boat like it used to be for me.
Watching Jaime Kennedy taught me a few things too. The first of which is this; ANYONE can do this job. Few do it well, but any schmo with a movie deal can eek out 40 minutes worth of material. (Which says to me that there might be a Gary Sinise concert special sooner than you might think…Imagine just how brilliantly unfunny that would be…)
Kennedy’s act was an exercise in patience. There were so many clumsy hacky things’ going on that it almost made me cry. (Insert Canadian beer jokes, and Dr, Phil impersonations here.) More importantly there was an almost total absence of finesse. (I wasn’t looking for scripting or even polish… but perhaps substance or at least a conscious train of thought.) It was more like watching someone playing the role of a comic in a movie. But then again he brought a documentary crew, so in a way I guess that hits the nail right on the head.
Once in a while he got off on a decent riff, but at no point did he ever look sure-footed. He just looked uncomfortable like an awkward teenager on a first date. Nothing he did stood out. If you were to ask me to recite a joke from his set, I would sadly be unable to. There was nothing that said to me “This man is a star!” It was mediocre at best.
His handler was a dude named Justin. He had an air of arrogance about him. (Gracious but arrogant at the same time…) He seemed to really enjoy name-dropping and generally being a bit of a dork. He kinda looked like a bobble head with good teeth. (He struck me as the kind of dude that doesn’t realize he’s the hired help…)
Anyway I need some sleep…
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Subb - Daylight Saving
Will wonders never cease... This is a pop punk record that doesn't suck. These days that’s getting harder and harder to say. Sadly Its a bit of a tricky disc to find, but it totally rocks. This Montreal band has a really crisp sound and the song writing is far and above any of their slack assed contemporaries. It kicks bands like A Simple Plan and Sum 41 right in the teeth. (But then again… they both suck ass.)
If you can find it, then you should just buy it.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
11/09/05 Balcony Oratorio Vol. 2
Sweet Mother of God… I’m on day 3 of having this fucking cold. I have been reduced to smoking menthol cigarettes. They are truly the gross, but smoking my normal Camels just incites vicious coughing fits, and that is about as much fun as smacking myself in the stones with a bal peen hammer.
But enough belly aching about my stupid cold…
The balcony oratorio continues with some zeal this evening. It seems these people just don’t get the concept that most people sleep at 1:42 in the morning. You’d swear it was noon the way these ignorant twits blather on.
The main event tonight is a little more on the banal side. It appears as if someone’s cat has gotten loose, and joyfully I get to hear all the minutia of its impending recapture. I find myself at the window trying to see the commotion. Try to imagine me rubber necking as my idiot neighbours attempt to collect the fugitive feline. I do my best to contact the furry little beast using telepathy…
“Run Kitty… These people are white trash… run for your life… There is a better place for you… Run… Run you furry little bastard…”
Apparently I made a connection. The cat was off like a shot. This caused a furious tirade of cursing. That made me smile. It managed to escape the tyranny of the incredibly stupid. No more kitty concentration camp, just freedom. Eat some birds my little friend… Let their tiny feathers fill you with happiness.
With a little luck some decent person will find the cat before animal services does.
But enough belly aching about my stupid cold…
The balcony oratorio continues with some zeal this evening. It seems these people just don’t get the concept that most people sleep at 1:42 in the morning. You’d swear it was noon the way these ignorant twits blather on.
The main event tonight is a little more on the banal side. It appears as if someone’s cat has gotten loose, and joyfully I get to hear all the minutia of its impending recapture. I find myself at the window trying to see the commotion. Try to imagine me rubber necking as my idiot neighbours attempt to collect the fugitive feline. I do my best to contact the furry little beast using telepathy…
“Run Kitty… These people are white trash… run for your life… There is a better place for you… Run… Run you furry little bastard…”
Apparently I made a connection. The cat was off like a shot. This caused a furious tirade of cursing. That made me smile. It managed to escape the tyranny of the incredibly stupid. No more kitty concentration camp, just freedom. Eat some birds my little friend… Let their tiny feathers fill you with happiness.
With a little luck some decent person will find the cat before animal services does.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
11/08/05 The Death Of Marcus
I have a cold. A big nasty evil stinking cold… I hate colds. I really really really fucking hate them. The word hatred is actually too lightweight of a term for it. (The English language really needs to come up with a new word for that kind of hatred.) It’s truly one of the most unpleasant experiences I can think of. Other than the ability to catch up on what I’ve missed on TV lately, there’s absolutely nothing good that can come from this demon sickness.
Much to my chagrin, I fully and completely transform into a little boy when I’m sick. How Erin puts up with me when I fell like I’m on deaths door, I’ll never understand. I get more whiney and grumpy with sniff and wheeze. Let’s face colds just plain suck. I wish I could eradicate the common cold from the face of the earth. Die you evil microbial bastards die…
I‘ve likely had this satanic beast of a cold of mine for several days now, but the symptoms didn’t decide to arrive at the party until yesterday. At least I wasn’t hacking my guts up on stage. That would have sucked. I would have felt bad for the people in the front row. That’s just what everybody needs… Dinner and a flu… with some dick jokes thrown in for good measure and for only a mere 15 bucks a head. It’s a paltry sum for a gift that keeps on giving for at least a week.
I rose out of bed at 6 am feeling like a giant sack of crap. The wheezing started right away too. The second the alarm clock went off so did my lungs. I got up and immediately started to cough and for a second I thought it wasn’t going to stop. I went and had some breakfast, the free continental kind that comes from hotels looking to attract frugal businessmen. Mike and I talked about politics, but our conversation was punctuated by me coughing loudly and clutching my chest. Each cough felt like someone stabbing me. I now understand what the victim in a slasher flick feels like.
The symptoms got worse in the car. I sucked on cough drop after cough drop, hoping it would help prevent the stabbing pain. It sort of worked, but I still had the odd coughing fit. I felt really bad for Mike having to travel with a human germ factory, but he was really good about it. I hope he didn’t get this nasty sickness, I know I’d feel real shitty about it if he did.
When I got home, I immediately went to the drugstore to get some supplies. By the time I was done, I had racked up nearly 80 bucks worth of medicine. It costs a lot to be sick these days. The quarterback I chose in the offensive against my cold is Nyquil. It’s the equivalent of the atomic bomb to the common cold. (Some people say its Buckley’s that really does the trick… But those people are evil…) I took a hit of it with an apple juice chaser, and passed out rather quickly. I had some really weird dreams. Too weird to describe in any sensible fashion…
Today I feel even worse than I did yesterday. Even though I slept from 11pm last night till 3pm today. I’m still really groggy, and really very tired. I feel weak like a little kitten. I tried talking to my parents on the phone, but I couldn’t keep a train of thought going for more than about 30 seconds. They should add temporary ADD as a side effect on the Nyquil bottle.
But I’d have to say the worst part for me is that feeling like you are standing outside of yourself. Although the achy dizziness in not that pleasant either.
Anyway… I’m off to continue the battle. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll feel like a smaller bag of crap…
End of Transmission
Much to my chagrin, I fully and completely transform into a little boy when I’m sick. How Erin puts up with me when I fell like I’m on deaths door, I’ll never understand. I get more whiney and grumpy with sniff and wheeze. Let’s face colds just plain suck. I wish I could eradicate the common cold from the face of the earth. Die you evil microbial bastards die…
I‘ve likely had this satanic beast of a cold of mine for several days now, but the symptoms didn’t decide to arrive at the party until yesterday. At least I wasn’t hacking my guts up on stage. That would have sucked. I would have felt bad for the people in the front row. That’s just what everybody needs… Dinner and a flu… with some dick jokes thrown in for good measure and for only a mere 15 bucks a head. It’s a paltry sum for a gift that keeps on giving for at least a week.
I rose out of bed at 6 am feeling like a giant sack of crap. The wheezing started right away too. The second the alarm clock went off so did my lungs. I got up and immediately started to cough and for a second I thought it wasn’t going to stop. I went and had some breakfast, the free continental kind that comes from hotels looking to attract frugal businessmen. Mike and I talked about politics, but our conversation was punctuated by me coughing loudly and clutching my chest. Each cough felt like someone stabbing me. I now understand what the victim in a slasher flick feels like.
The symptoms got worse in the car. I sucked on cough drop after cough drop, hoping it would help prevent the stabbing pain. It sort of worked, but I still had the odd coughing fit. I felt really bad for Mike having to travel with a human germ factory, but he was really good about it. I hope he didn’t get this nasty sickness, I know I’d feel real shitty about it if he did.
When I got home, I immediately went to the drugstore to get some supplies. By the time I was done, I had racked up nearly 80 bucks worth of medicine. It costs a lot to be sick these days. The quarterback I chose in the offensive against my cold is Nyquil. It’s the equivalent of the atomic bomb to the common cold. (Some people say its Buckley’s that really does the trick… But those people are evil…) I took a hit of it with an apple juice chaser, and passed out rather quickly. I had some really weird dreams. Too weird to describe in any sensible fashion…
Today I feel even worse than I did yesterday. Even though I slept from 11pm last night till 3pm today. I’m still really groggy, and really very tired. I feel weak like a little kitten. I tried talking to my parents on the phone, but I couldn’t keep a train of thought going for more than about 30 seconds. They should add temporary ADD as a side effect on the Nyquil bottle.
But I’d have to say the worst part for me is that feeling like you are standing outside of yourself. Although the achy dizziness in not that pleasant either.
Anyway… I’m off to continue the battle. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll feel like a smaller bag of crap…
End of Transmission
Saturday, November 05, 2005
11/06/05 So Many Miles...
Well I’ve had another week of touring. (Chasing the dream…) My touring partner for this run is Mike Dambra. I’ve learned a lot from him on this trip. He’s been totally great to travel with. I enjoy his company, and we’ve been getting along really well. Although I’ve known him for years, this was the first time they put us on the road together. So far it seems to be a pretty good fit.
Regardless of having a chum on this trip, I have begun to understand one of the themes of the movie “Lost in Translation.” I have felt pretty lonely over the last few days, but more than that, I really feel out of sorts. Lately it seems that there have been too many miles in a very short time. In just 10 days, I’ve traveled nearly 3422 kilometers, been in 5 different cities, and performed in front of nearly 1300 people. It makes my head a little dizzy when I think about it.
Don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying myself, but I feel a little out of place. I long for my bed, and more so for the lovely person that I share it with. Thank god I’ll be home for a while. I need to spend some time being husband, and not being funny disappearing guy.
The Saskatchewan shows were good. In fact Saskatoon was very good for the most part. Usually the people there get into the show, and this was no exception. Truthfully, if anything, they got a little too into the show.
Things were pretty much going according to plan until some drunken idiot stood up and got on the stage with Mike. He put his arm around him, and tried to squeeze him down to his knees.
People in the front testified that he was squeezing so hard you could see his knuckles blanche. Mike was eventually able to push him back and get him off the stage, but it took a few minutes, and a quick little jab to the solar plexus. I couldn’t believe it, but what was more unbelievable was that no one from the venue even bothered to try and help stop it.
It’s like they didn’t even understand that it wasn’t cool. They did just stood there. It was, as far as I’m concerned completely disrespectful, and totally careless. They looked at a serious security concern and dismissed it as if it was nothing, and for that I’m a little disappointed.
Sadly this wasn’t the first time this has happened there. A friend of mine had beer steins throw at him and he dealt with much the same ambivalence. It’s a great room, I just hope they deal with security better in the future.
The show in Regina was good too. There was actually a table that came from Saskatoon to see the show. Apparently there weren’t able to get tickets, so they drove out to come and see us. I thought that was very cool. After the show I chatted with them, and had my picture taken with a few people. The word was that the venue was very pleased with the show, and that people were talking about it over breakfast in the hotel.
Now it’s Sunday and I’m in Brandon. It’s a city that’s in the middle of a transformation. There’s a lot of new construction going on here and there’s a feeling of improving prosperity. The typical big box crap is moving in, and the chain restaurants are on just about every corner. It sure has changed a lot since the last time I was here. It’s still a little Spartan, but that’s not meant as a jab, it just tends to be the nature of smaller Canadian cities.
Mind you, I know very little about this city. (Or the entire province of Manitoba for that matter.) I know it has a hockey team called the Wheat Kings, and other than that, the only other notion that stuck me is that it seems a bit starved for entertainment.
Our hotel is nice enough, (Actually it’s a hefty leg above most places I’ve been put up…) but it’s also really out of the way. The gig is actually located on the other end of the city, not a big deal, but not normally what I’m used to.
Previous to tonight, I had come to understand that Canadian show business usually means traveling insane distances, to perform in front of a luke warm crowd in a bar and grill in the middle of fucking nowhereville. (Generally that statement is gospel… but it’s fun nonetheless…) My prejudices sometimes get the better of me, and my first impression tonight was misplaced. (Well at least the part about luke warm audiences anyway…)
I should start this off by letting you know that earlier today, I found out that the venue permits minors to attend the show. That creped me out a little. (A lot actually…) I was told that regardless of that, they did in fact have signs to warn people about content, but for some reason that really didn’t appease the knot building in my stomach. (Those of you that have seen me know that I’m not what you’d call a family act.)
Anyway… the show went very well. The owner of the restaurant wants to have us back. He was actually a little overbearing and adamant about, but he was a decent fellow anyway. (And the service was exceptional.)
I even did an interview for some T V people (But I think they were students…)
Anyway I need some sleep…
Regardless of having a chum on this trip, I have begun to understand one of the themes of the movie “Lost in Translation.” I have felt pretty lonely over the last few days, but more than that, I really feel out of sorts. Lately it seems that there have been too many miles in a very short time. In just 10 days, I’ve traveled nearly 3422 kilometers, been in 5 different cities, and performed in front of nearly 1300 people. It makes my head a little dizzy when I think about it.
Don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying myself, but I feel a little out of place. I long for my bed, and more so for the lovely person that I share it with. Thank god I’ll be home for a while. I need to spend some time being husband, and not being funny disappearing guy.
The Saskatchewan shows were good. In fact Saskatoon was very good for the most part. Usually the people there get into the show, and this was no exception. Truthfully, if anything, they got a little too into the show.
Things were pretty much going according to plan until some drunken idiot stood up and got on the stage with Mike. He put his arm around him, and tried to squeeze him down to his knees.
People in the front testified that he was squeezing so hard you could see his knuckles blanche. Mike was eventually able to push him back and get him off the stage, but it took a few minutes, and a quick little jab to the solar plexus. I couldn’t believe it, but what was more unbelievable was that no one from the venue even bothered to try and help stop it.
It’s like they didn’t even understand that it wasn’t cool. They did just stood there. It was, as far as I’m concerned completely disrespectful, and totally careless. They looked at a serious security concern and dismissed it as if it was nothing, and for that I’m a little disappointed.
Sadly this wasn’t the first time this has happened there. A friend of mine had beer steins throw at him and he dealt with much the same ambivalence. It’s a great room, I just hope they deal with security better in the future.
The show in Regina was good too. There was actually a table that came from Saskatoon to see the show. Apparently there weren’t able to get tickets, so they drove out to come and see us. I thought that was very cool. After the show I chatted with them, and had my picture taken with a few people. The word was that the venue was very pleased with the show, and that people were talking about it over breakfast in the hotel.
Now it’s Sunday and I’m in Brandon. It’s a city that’s in the middle of a transformation. There’s a lot of new construction going on here and there’s a feeling of improving prosperity. The typical big box crap is moving in, and the chain restaurants are on just about every corner. It sure has changed a lot since the last time I was here. It’s still a little Spartan, but that’s not meant as a jab, it just tends to be the nature of smaller Canadian cities.
Mind you, I know very little about this city. (Or the entire province of Manitoba for that matter.) I know it has a hockey team called the Wheat Kings, and other than that, the only other notion that stuck me is that it seems a bit starved for entertainment.
Our hotel is nice enough, (Actually it’s a hefty leg above most places I’ve been put up…) but it’s also really out of the way. The gig is actually located on the other end of the city, not a big deal, but not normally what I’m used to.
Previous to tonight, I had come to understand that Canadian show business usually means traveling insane distances, to perform in front of a luke warm crowd in a bar and grill in the middle of fucking nowhereville. (Generally that statement is gospel… but it’s fun nonetheless…) My prejudices sometimes get the better of me, and my first impression tonight was misplaced. (Well at least the part about luke warm audiences anyway…)
I should start this off by letting you know that earlier today, I found out that the venue permits minors to attend the show. That creped me out a little. (A lot actually…) I was told that regardless of that, they did in fact have signs to warn people about content, but for some reason that really didn’t appease the knot building in my stomach. (Those of you that have seen me know that I’m not what you’d call a family act.)
Anyway… the show went very well. The owner of the restaurant wants to have us back. He was actually a little overbearing and adamant about, but he was a decent fellow anyway. (And the service was exceptional.)
I even did an interview for some T V people (But I think they were students…)
Anyway I need some sleep…
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