As is always the case, September arrives when you least expect it; right at the end of August. It shouldn't be a surprise but it always seems to be simply because summers seem to fly by so quickly. I'm pretty sure the phrase "time flies when you're having fun" was coined in reference to summer. It feels like a couple of weeks ago that I was telling a friend that I have to get some summer fun in this summer. I hope to get to the beach this weekend so that will be that I guess.
As much as I hate to see August come and go, I really do like September. Rugby is in full swing, the town is alive with unsespecting young coeds, and I have the opportunity to whip out my favourite feel good song: It's a repeat from last year but some sentiments are perennials.
On a completely different note - today is the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana's death. One of my co-workers asked me if I remembered where I was and thanks to the external memory bank that is Jackman keeps for me I remembered that I was in Regina for a rugby tournament. We were out on the town and the TVs in the bar started showing the news. At the same time we were there a bunch of WWF wrestlers were there and one of my teammates had a lenghthy conversation about her with Vader. Funny story but it does say something about her appeal.
North left today, the last of the ex-pats to do so after their annual pilgrimage home. It's always a bit tough to see them leave but at the same time a bit of a relief. Having them home means I'll never struggle to find a partner in crime but their departure also means that summer is waning and that I'll have to find new excuses, other then "it's so-and-so's last night", to get Normy moving. These guys are some of my oldest friends and I spend their time home trying to make sure they have as much fun as possible so they will have fond memories of home and think about making the move back here at some point. It becomes a job that doesn't pay, so my pocketbook will be happy to see them go as much as my soul might not. Hopefully the work paid off somewhat; these guys are mint.
Curnie - congrats on your wedding. Things have worked out well for you over there; she would be way out of your league in North America.
Thanks - To the Taipei crew - for the Big Smooth shirt - it's getting plenty of wear and in a few years that thing will be worth more then a #7 Falcons jersey. To Nicki(Corporal Punishment) - for reminding my mom that my friends, while insane, are just about the best people in the world. And also for giving me a year's worth of stupid shit that will make me laugh in the middle of the night. To North - for being gracious in Trivial Pursuit defeat for the 12th straight year. There's always next year...and you might be taller than me then too. To Lindsay - for putting up with North To all - for making me laugh...a lot.
Last weekend as I pulled into Hazen White Field in Saint John I spotted a huge bird feasting on a dead something at the edge of the parking lot. As we pulled closer we got a better look at it and it was compeletely foreign to me. It was a big black bird with an ugly, bald red head. When we got close enough the bird took off and showed itself to be one of the biggest fucking birds I have ever seen. It was massive with a wingspan that had to be the taller then me. When we went to the fishing camp I asked the resident ornithologist (Malcolm) and he informed me that the turkey vulture had recently stared summering in the area...not unlike the Quebecois.
Fast forward to last night at rugby practice, the one which I was sitting out due to the abstract painting on my hip, and it seemed as thought the rugby club had become a bird sanctuary. In the course of two hours I counted 4 or 5 osprey, 2 bald eagles, 2 massive raptors that I could not identify, and countless nighthawks, ducks, gulls, etc. I realised that since we started training this year, not a practice has gone by that I haven't noticed a bald eagle. It's awesome how much of a comeback they have made in the past 10 years. When people used to ask me what I would like to come back as if I had to choose and animal and I always said that I would like to come back as an eagle. I still stand by that partially because it would be highly illegal to shoot me. I also think it would be really neat to have a free range eagle for a pet. They would take care of all the annoying dogs in the neighbourhood and I would have the chance to use the line "Hey, you wanna touch my bird?" often.
Incidentally, when looking for a title for this post I thought of Fatboy Slim's song Sunset (Bird of Prey) and I thought it was the one with the video of Christopher Walken dancing. Turns out that one is Weapon of Choice from the same album. Man I love this video: Pace out.
PS - the picture of the eagle is from Tuesday's Gleaner and is of a local bird. We'll call him Eddie the freak with the busted beak. It's kind of like Gene Gene the dancin' machine.
On Sunday, Randell and I got our annual trip to Little Forks in and some things stayed true to form. Just like last year the only thing we caught was a buzz or two....or three. Just like last year we other people in our party caught fish and just like last year Malcolm made the shut out a minor footnote by making us laugh so hard that we forgot about being outsmarted by a salmon.We were treated to beautiful weather; bright crisp mornings that turned into warm sunny days. The water was so clear that we could see the salmon laying in the pools and I spent two hours and every fly on my vest trying to get one of them to take it at Split Rock pool. No luck. Alas, I had to get back to the office so that was that.
I had a real mind to grab the Superstore salmon in the freezer and present it as my first Little Forks grilse but decided that would be bad for karma. Instead I just put my tail between my legs and look forward to next year.
I did take the advice of that sign in Blackville though:
It's Friday, I'm hoping to hit the river tonight, I get to play rugby tomorrow, followed by Curnew's wedding reception. To top it off I am heading to Little Forks to go fishing on Sunday for a couple of days. With all that in mind you can probably understand why I'm more then a little bubbly giddy right now. I'm practically bouncing out of the office. And in honour of this I located a video that some perv sent me the other day:. I can see why Bob loved his job so much.
Years ago while preparing for a trip to Magic Mountain, North whipped himself up into a near orgasmic fury, brimming with excitement at the prospect of hitting the water at Magic Mountain water park (and possibly at the thought of all those MILFs being good parents). He was so excited that his condition became known as Magic Mountain syndrome. So to this day when someone's excitement levels reach a fever pitch we tend to diagnose them with Magic Mountain syndrome. In the past few weeks I personally have been struck with Magic Mountain on at least four occasions. Fortunately for you I have pictures to prove it.
The first was Dave Skead's bachelor party. A good crew of us headed to Fundy for a round of golf and tour of the Bay with a Shark fishermen. Alas we found no sharks but listening to this guy talk was worth the price we paid (and then some!). Good times. No stories though...sorry ;)The next week Nicki arrived home and that coincided with Jackson arriving on PEI. Davey told us that he was unlikely to be making it home to Freddy and that if we wanted to see him we had to come to PEI. We didn't really want to but PEI is nice so we went to Mom's place for a visit. Dave was nice enough to pay us a visit. We had an great time and spent a number of hours on the beach deciding how to change the world and then some time swimming where we forgot all of them. As always Mom and Sam were wonderful hosts.We arrived back from PEI and went back to work. After a short week we played a game in Belleisle and I felt compelled to add that piece just so I could share this picture of the view from their clubhouse. It might be the second best clubhouse at which to enjoy a beer in Canada.The next day we planned another little canoe outing down the Saint John River. We put in just below the damn and took out at the bucket club. We went down the North Side of the river which was beautiful but quite a bit slower then the South Side. Because we didn't get started until late (which really exacerbated the MMS) we didn't get off the river until almost dark. It did make the pictures that much nicer though. Finally, on Monday night, I finally managed to get down Grand Lake to spend some QT there. Geoff and Lindsay joined Erin and I for a bonfire on the beach and we watched the tail end of the Meteor shower that peaked the night before. I wish this final picture was my own but I would be lying. So as you can see, the past few weeks I have been busy ripping around the province having some good times. If you (anyone?) have noticed a slip in production around here that is to blame. I'll try and be more diligent ;)
Last Friday we had a wicked windstorm in Freddy and it uprooted the big tent we had pitched in the parking lot of the rugby club. The tent reared up and clipped the power line coming in to the clubhouse. Since the club is not seen as a high priority place compared to residential outages we have still not got the power back on at the clubhouse. This has meant that we have had to rely on good old fashioned ice to keep the beer cold. It was quite a scene last night when we had our Old Boys night to see them drinking ice cold beer by candlelight. A few of them may have played rugby before electric light but not at the clubhouse so it wasn't quite re-enacting the good old days. We hope to have power back on at the tonight...we shall see.
On Wednesday night Will's band (the Tallest Band on Earth) played a starter set for Dub Antennae at the Taproom's reggae night. They were really good and I was really happy to get some of the boys out to see Will doing his thing (which they are getting very good at, I might add). After his show, and during Dub Antennae second set the power went out. The place was full of backup lights so there although there may have been some brief fondling there was no time to get busy in the darkened bar. As we went outside we found out that the power was out throughout the downtown. It was all very eerie...and equally cool. When I was a kid I used to love power outages because it was so cool to go searching for the candles and matches and then find something to do in the dark. For some reason I only remember blackouts in the summer, which is a good thing because a blackout in the winter would be a big big deal in this part of the world. Nowadays I still enjoy a good blackout and especially one that takes place that late in the evening because I can stroll into work late and use the excuse that the power went out and my alarm therefore did not go off.
There have always been persistent jabs thrown at Fredericton from New Brunswick's other cities (Saint John mostly) regarding our large gay community. It was said that, after San Fran, Frederiction had the highest per capita homosexual community in North America. I have no idea what Census kept this info but they swore by it and used it as ammo in the Route 7 Rivalry.
When you are fifteen and the rest of the province thinks your rich wusses from Fredericton this was a painful stat, regardless of its lack of proof. As we grew up and learned that there was indeed a thriving gay community we accepted that fact and embraced the fact that the gay bar would always serve you, gay or straight, after closing time and into the wee hours of the morning. Plus it meant we all had better hair then your cities. Still I never believed the per capita BS.
I'm still not sure I do but I have to admit that Frederiction has become somewhat of a gay mecca. At least this time of year. But it is mecca not to your typical flaming flamboyant gay man. Instead it is mecca for the gay sub-culture's sub-culture of large, hairy homosexuals who call themselves "bears" as in "big cuddly bears". Fredericton is home to their FurFest which is a gathering of East Coast bears. I was driving home last night and saw a big group of large hairy men in Hawaiin shirts strolling through town. I thought this was a bit odd until I saw that some of them were holding hands; then I realized it was just FurFest.
I, for one, welcome those big cuddly bears for the infusion of cash they'll throw in to the local economy. Big fat gay men probably have big fat gay wallets. Besides, they all looked like shipbuilders so they're probably mostly from Saint John.
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