My good buddy Geoff North (and his lovely girlfriend Lindsay) just completed a 3 week tour of India. Now, I am incredibly envious of North's wandering spirit; he has made seeing the world a priority and goes out and makes it happen. The only problem I have with North's travels is his refusal to provide us with an accurate description of his adventures. For example, you can read his watered-down version of his trip right here to get a sense of what I mean. Fortunately for you North sent me running email updates of his trip and because I have no idea what "in confidence" means I am going to share that version of the trip with you. So here you go:
Day 1: Flight to Delhi was smelly and loud but otherwise ok. The customs agent at the airport was a major jackass though. It took me like an hour to clear customs because this guy thought I looked like a sex tourist. He was on a total powertrip. We just got to our hotel and I need a drink after dealing with that asshole. Day 2: Can't write long. Hotel bar, Kingfisher, super hungover; that shit is like Chestnut draft. I'm not drinking for the rest of this trip. Day 3: Got drunk last night. Ate some curry that was way too hot so I had a couple of beer and, well, you know, 2 or 20 right. Two days and I'm already sick of Indian food and "hot dog platter" does not appear in my English-Hindi dictionary. Day 4: Left Delhi today to travel a few hours south to Jaipur to see a show. Went to see this Indian guy who both Jerry and Trey mentioned in interviews. Here is the setlist: Indian song, slow Indian song>>fast Indian Song>>slow Indian song, Ripple (my request), long Indian song. I don't know the rest because we got kicked out because I kept yelling "Play your song". 2 or 20 right. Day 5: Back on the road, well actually rails, today. Pretty uneventful trip except for this jackass from Newmarket who decided to sit beside us. We brought some beers on the train and when I gave him his first one I gave him the old line "You ever been to India?...well get'er India". Well he thought that was just about the funniest thing ever and proceeded to say it to every person in the car; which was about 400. I'm telling you, Americans have nothing on Upper Canadians when it comes to ignorant tourists. Day 6: There's a fucking Chapter's in Bombay. I fucking hate Chapter's. I pissed on it...no one seemed to notice. Day 7: An Indian guy approached us in a coffee shop today because he heard us speaking English. He thought I was from Texas and didn't believe I was from Canada until I told him I went to UNB. It turns out he went to Dal in the 90's. He said he heard a story about some guys from UNB who took a limo to Montreal for March Break and that he started his thriving limo business in Bombay because of it. I threw my beer in his face and looked for the camera. I never found it but man, good one, you really got me. Having said that, I really am pissed I missed that trip and because of it I'm ceasing my updates. I'll talk to you when I get back to Taiwan. Day 21: At the airport heading home. Sorry I snapped at you. I'll give you a full update when I get back to Taiwan. I will tell you this much though; India has reinforced my fixation will all things bovine. Oh, and I learned to play that snakecharmer song on the bass; you should tell Normy to get a cobra. Talk to you soon, Clau.
Again, I can't explain to you how envious I am of North's travelling. I mean, how good would the Moosehead shirt look in front of the Taj Mahal? Damn... Anyways I apologize if most of these jokes are decidedly inside but I assure you they are pure North. Here's some background if you want some context.
Oh, and North just as an FYI, we played Trivial Pursuit a couple of weeks ago and this kid won. So if you've got the riggin' you know where to look if you want a shot at the title.
The past few days I have been getting strange phone calls from the following number = 1-000-000-0000. My phone is currently f*ed up so when I open it to answer it often cuts off the call and I need to call the number back. When I call this one back it's just that nice lady telling me that "Your call can not be completed as dialed, please check the number and dial again". Lather, rinse, repeat; still no answer.
So, I'm stuck guessing who that strange number could belong to. I was kidding around on Thursday telling the roomies that "I would sell my soul" for tickets to the Habs-Leafs game in Montreal on St.Paddy's Day. So I thought maybe the Prince of Darkness was taking me up on the offer but it seems likely to me that he (or his minions) would be calling from the 666 area code. So my next best guess was that I was getting the call from God outlining his plans for me. That may still be the case but I would have assumed that he would have mentioned something about it to Normy, to whom he speaks regularly seeking advice on how to best cook turnip and be less vengeful. Big Fella, if you lost my chili recipe I can email it to you again. If you need advice on the immortal dating scene I might be a little out of my element. Either way, call me back, I want to talk to you about last weekend. It was just a moment of weakness and I wouldn't want it to keep me from the party. Talk soon.
Incidentally - the title of this post is a song from my idol Jimmy Buffett's 1985 album Last Mango in Paris. I mention this because a)it's one of the best song titles in music history (also in the top 10 is Buffett's classic The Weather Is Here, I Wish You Were Beautiful) and b)because the album cover is absolutely priceless and c)because March is Moustache Month and JB's on that album is gold.
Normy had an absolutely brilliant idea last night...so here goes:
Dear Britney,
In light of your recent ups and downs one may think that you need some balance in your life; or at least a nice stress free place to unwind. Well, I am here to offer you just that place.
I talked to the boys and they are cool with you coming to stay with us, rent free, until you feel you are ready to get back to doing what it is you do best; dressing up like a 14 year old schoolgirl and gyrating until I feel dirty about myself. We have lots to offer here on Henry St. Our spare bedroom is painted blue so every morning is like waking up to a sunny day! And it only smells mildly of stale Scottish rugby gear and Orange Pekoe. We are just around the corner from the Dixie Lee so you can get your fill of your much loved fried chicken and will be introduced to the world's best comfort food - poutine! We don't mind if you put on a few pounds, it's your mind that needs fixing right now. Which reminds me, if you don't want to wear panties around here we won't judge you like the internets do. In fact, I will go as far as promising you that any pictures that get snapped of your privates will not, I repeat not, be sold to the highest bidder. My word is gold Brit.
Anyways, think about it. It's not easy to fly here from the U.S. but you could probably fly into Bangor and take the bus from there. Or, hey, Normy might even come and pick you up...he's good like that. We just want you to be better, so we can go back to feeling bad.
Cool Story. This is Bill Fletcher. Bill played rugby with the club for the last few years before last season. During his time with the club he earned the respect of his teammates for always soldiering on through little nicks like a separated shoulder or something (I seriously think I heard him say "It's just a flesh wound" and mean it). He also earned the nickname "Indestructi-Bill". This story backs up the nickname. Bill was awarded the Star of Military Valour for his bravery in Afghanistan. That, in and of itself, makes me proud to say that I was this guys teammate. But what really struck me was what he said in his interview on the CBC; that he was just doing his job the same as the folks that are in Afghanistan now. Which reminds me that there are two other Loyalists currently deployed in Afghanistan; Ian Walcott and Colin Richardson.
I sent a note out to the club to let people know that Bill was given this honour and I immediately recieved responses - most said something along the lines of "you just knew that Bill was a guy that you would want to be next to when shit went down; classic infantryman" and another, equally true, said "What do you want to bet Bill was thinking about how fun it would be to do the Gov. Gen. then tell his buddies back in barracks?" Classic.
I was a little disappointed that Bill didnt's mention the role that the club played in honing his leadership skills but then again we probably didn't do his career any good at all. We're still proud though.
Yesterday was Chinese New Year and this, my friends, is the Year of the Pig. In fact it's the year of the Golden Pig. I'm not exactly sure what makes this Piggish year golden but apparently it's a big deal in China.
In Vancouver, where the Asian community is large Barry and Gillis partook in the traditioal Chinese New Year tradition of watching Bob Weir sell his cheese. Elsewhere firecrackers scared the living shit out of people.
I did a little research and found out the I was born in the Year of the Tiger to which I say - SWEET!. Here's what it says about us Tigers "One of the most dynamic signs in the Chinese zodiac, Tigers are by turns fascinating, commanding, and exasperating. They are patient but short-tempered, calm but rebellious, petty but noble, fearsome but affectionate, free spirits but fiercely territorial. With their many & various personality traits, Tigers are also - not surprisingly - noted for a marked reluctance to make up their minds." Wow, that's pretty spot on, except for the fearsome bit.
The East Coast Music Awards are on as I'm writing this. Joel Plaskett openned the show with his big hit which really got the crowd going. That applause ushered in the Trailer Park Boys who seem to have hosted this thing for the past 10 years running. I'm waiting for the day when they appear at an awards show out of character; it's going to be East Coast equivalent of Kiss playing their first show without their makeup.
So a couple things always get me about the ECMA's. 1)I love the fact that the awards know no bounds; country singers sit beside opera singers who sit beside rockers who sit beside rappers who sit beside folkies who are likely sitting beside a Rankin. 2)I love the fact that the awards are truly local. Two of tonight's nominees are from Fredericton. One of them, David Myles, is a friend of the family and lived just down the street. The other, Measha Brueggergosman, is a renowned opera singer who once was a freakish rugby player.
The performance keep getting better and better on this show and that's good news because next year the ECMA's are coming to Fredericton. That should be a good time; I'm going an God help me if I don't get to sit beside Cookie Rankin.
In closing I'm leaving you with a sample of the ecclectic mix coming out of the East Coast right now. This is Classified with his ode to the Maritimes: Good stuff.
As I may have mentioned we have been experiencing a bit of a deep freeze here in Freddy. So this week that fact collided with the joys of home ownership. I woke up Thursday morning to a dry house; my water line had frozen.
I called the city to come and sort it out and a crew arrived pretty quickly. They figured out it was frozen somewhere between the street and the house so they had to bring in a steam machine to thaw the line. Unfortunately a water main had broken somewhere else (Southside likely) and we weren't as high on the priority list and they didn't come back until Friday morning with the machine. When they came back with the steam machine they set up shop in the basement and tried to thaw it from the inside out...with no luck. They left at noon and told me they would be back in a hour with the backhoe. And come back they did. Four city trucks, one towing the backhoe, and 8 city workers descended on the Bakery. They set to work digging up my lawn and within an hour had two 8 foot deep holes beside the house. In reality, the backhoe did the digging and 7 other guys stood around pointing a yakking. The banter of a city crew is absolutely priceless. I think each and every one of them told me I better be prepared to be without water until the spring. Good one fellas. They did eventually thaw the line and we were with water in time for the weekend.
So as a sidenote to this event was the fact that I had to be here at the house all day on Thursday and Friday. I had a pretty good idea that working from home would never really work for me because I get along all too well with the couch. What I hadn't realized was how much the social aspect of the office is necessary to me. Without an outlet for my incessant rambling I go a little batty. I was so hard up for conversation that I found myself asking the city workers in the basement what they would do if they won a million bucks. I got no direct response, just some funny looks and the following: "I think I know what your problem is; you got hard water" followed by a huge laugh and a pat on the back from his partner. Good one fellas. And back to the couch I went...
Greetings bleeding hearts. I hope everyone is having on wonderful Valentine's Day...sincerely. But please don't forget that this day does honour the day that cupid got massacred by Saint Valentine. Or something like that. Either way enjoy yourselves...
As for me, well, I have made a point not to do anything on Valentine's Day since my last date on February 14th ended similarly to this one: "This date is over"
For another angle on the subject I direct you to the article below - if you can't read it you should be able to click on it to get a larger version - enjoy:I particularly like the joke that Terry Williams (Big kid, probably retarded) told. That's going in the repetoire for sure. It's like a license to pull the Tom Brady boob grab.
During my regularly scheduled evening surf sessions I came across this rugby story on one of my favourite sports blogs. If you don't want to take the time to read it that's cool; it's just a classic fish out of water tale that I can really relate to. I often feel alienated by the guys I play rugby with; you should have seen the looks they gave me when I tried to start a discussion regarding the best place to go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve - I know we were at a strip joint...but still. So speaking of rugby stories; one of the club's young guns is currently on an exchange in Edinburgh playing for Stewart's Melville RFC and I spoke to him today. He told me that things were going well, he is having a great time and playing good rugby. He also told me he scored for the first time last weekend which he said would be really funny to me if I knew who they were playing. I hesitate to call Jebb a prodigy because of the risk/reward equation is still being calculated but there is no question I am envious of what he's up to this winter. The outfit...not so much.
We are going through a pretty wicked cold spell here in Freddy so I've got to thinking about summer. This song pretty much sums up what I want my summer to be about:
So this video makes me think of how I want to spend my summer - "I'd rather lay on the hood of an old car with my girlfriend and my real friends" - but it also makes me wonder where the hell my life went wrong that I don't have my own line dance. As president of the rugby club I think I am going institute a new post-game line dance oompetition; it could work....no?
I met Matt Mays after a show he played here a couple of years ago. When he came back for a show the following year I ran into him afterwards coming in from a smoke. I said "Hey man great show" to which he responded "Thanks man...you look turbo-familiar". I loved that and have tried to use turbo as an adjective since with limited success. Please help me spread the gospel.
Changing pace - I just got back from a night ski and that prompts me to add to the S files. Skiing - Starry skies - Silence - Sore Shoulders; Normy is snapping his fingers in the background here; he's a beat poet from way back.
The "man" has released an updated version of the Canada Food Guide. The guide is clearly still a work in progress because in my brief overview of the guide I couldn't find the wing and nacho group or the cake and cookie group. There is a mention of unsaturated fats but nowhere does it tell exactly how much gravy you should be drinking daily. You can check it out here - http://26489.vws.magma.ca/food_guide_en.html.
This picture is from August 1997. The occasion for the photo was SuperParty '97. Some of you may recall that this particular SuperParty was the one to which all others are compared; it was the grand-daddy of all SuperPartys. The house was jammed so the party spilled on to the street (see). Conservative estimates put the total number of party people in (or around) the house at 200+. Taxis actually left their stands downtown and just sat on the street outside our place. Apparently they, along with the throng of drunken kids, caused a bit of a commotion. Cops were called, pepper was sprayed, feelings were hurt.
The cops actually came prepared for a riot - 6 cars and 2 vans, lights ablaze. They were merciless in their commitment to serving and protecting the citizens of Fredericton (even if we were all citizens of Fredericton - no sour grapes though I swear). Mercifully, I had "retired" for the evening was not involved in the raid. The reason I tell you all this, besides to relive some great, great memories of my youth, is simple. Tonight I was eating some pasta and a drop of Frank's Red Hot skipped off a noodle and got me right in the eye. I can now say, without a doubt, that I know exactly how you poor saps felt when you got pepper sprayed by Fredericton's Finest as SuperParty '98. That shit hurts eh?
You love it.
Doctor
PS - in searching for an image for Frank's I came across this website for Chiliworld to which I respond - THERE'S A CHILIWORLD?!?!? Can anyone say Road Trip????!
One of my co-workers invited me to a party last week; the email he sent around was an invite for today to a Super Bowel Party(Typos are funny!). I didn't know what that was so I decided to stay on Henry St. to watch it.
So far so good; There is something very cool about the game being played in the rain. Even Billy Joel version of the anthem was somehow more real with raindrops on the ivory. The opening kickoff went for a TD and that's a pretty good indicator of things to come. 6 turnovers in the first half and a 16-14 lead for the Colts. This is Peyton Manning's game and he has performed as expected. If he wins this game I may consider stopping calling him Fetus-Face Manning - tough call though, that's pretty funny.
Update - The second half continued the way the first half ended; with the Colts moving the ball and the Bears looking anemic. You just knew that Sex Cannon Rex was going to mess it up. He's clearly had a busy week. The Colts didn't really even need that big a game out of Peyton. Their o-line and defense won them this game. Truth be told I'm happy that Peyton won; not for him but for Danny boy. Now that Peyton's won a Super Bowl ring Marino retains his title as the Best QB never to win a Super Bowl. That title is his Super Bowl. Performance of the night - clearly goes to Prince for his halftime show. He actually just came out and played...very well. Him playing Purple Rain on a purple lit stage in the rain seemed almost staged. Great song though; one of the underated soul performances of the 80's. Best halftime show in memory...although the only one I remember rating above shitty was the Stones performance last year. Still.
I went to visit my girl Sophie last week. When I walked in the door she emerged from behind a chair to see who was at the door. When she saw me her face lit up and she started waving. She was beaming as I crawled over to her and threw her hands up in the air looking for a hug. I picked her up and took her for a walk around the house. I was only there for a quick visit so I spent a few minutes with her and then handed her back to her Daddy. She was not pleased; apperently she hadn't had enough Vitamin S. When I spoke to Scotty the next day he told me that she bawled for 10 minutes after I left. I couldn't help but think of how nice it would be to have that effect on more women.Sometime afterwards I got to thinking about Vitamin S. It remains my favourite self-proclaimed nickname (narrowly edging the Doctor) but I also realized that as much as I like to use Vitamin S in reference to myself I also find myself in need of a little Vitamin S now and again. Then I realized how many different connotations Vitamin S can have for me because so many of my favourite things in the world start with the letter S; In no particular order - Sophie - Saturday - Sunday - Sun - Surf - SAnd - Snowballs - Sports - Sex - Sleep - Supper - Sugar - Stories - Silliness - So much more. Oh yeah, and Smiles, I really like them; in fact smiling's my favourite! And Eddie Vedder singing Smile is one of my favourites too (at the 2:35 mark I get goosebumps). So put good singing on that list too.
Last night was that ever-so-rare beast, the work sanctioned night on the town. We hit our quarterly quota and decided to celebrate. And celebrate we did. I am nursing a rather hefty hangover, although it is free of the typically associated guilt of a weekday heavy head. I am at work, or at least my shell is. I have spent most of my time here so far scouring the internet for images that can accurately reflect how I am feeling. I thought the picture above was just about perfect.
I also thought that Thick As A Brick would be the perfect musical accompaniment. A YouTube search brought back some real gems like this live performance from MSG in 1978; but my personal favourite is this one: The note on YouTube says "Product of Boredom". No shit. After about the third random anime image I thought of Geoff Nicki and how this would have to be up his alley (My personal favourite has to be "Ninja's don't swim they...DOG PADDLE"). Then I thought about how much I enjoy all the random people in my life. It's just conforting to know they're out there...being random.
Finally, after listening to this song over and over again I have decided that it deserves a spot high on my list of all time favourites. Ian Anderson is to Rock what Snoop is to Rap - a trailblazer. Who would have figured we'd have two posts in three days about flautists. They broke down the flute barrier and we should all be thankful. Speaking of random...
My good buddy Geoff North (and his lovely girlfriend Lindsay) just completed a 3 week tour of India. Now, I am incredibly envious of North's wandering spirit; he has made seeing the world a priority and goes out and makes it happen. The only problem I have with North's travels is his refusal to provide us with an accurate description of his adventures. For example, you can read his watered-down version of his trip right here to get a sense of what I mean. Fortunately for you North sent me running email updates of his trip and because I have no idea what "in confidence" means I am going to share that version of the trip with you. So here you go:
