Maritimers across the region were bracing for a hurricane over the weekend and ever since Hurricane Juan hit a few years ago, we tend to take these things seriously. Fortunately, this time, Hurricane Kyle was slowed by the cold waters of the Bay of Fundy and the only hurricane that made it this far inland was Hurricane Bardsley.
It was a good thing too because we had a game yesterday and although we were resigned to playing in some severe weather it made for a much more enjoyable day playing in a warm and wet, but not very windy, day. I hate cold and wet but warm and wet I don't mind so much. And for whatever reason, I found myself in a bit of a foul mood yesterday and I played like it. For some reason I felt the need to hit some people and as luck would have it I had the perfect forum to do so. Afterwards, some of the most important people in my life told me it was the best game they'd seen my play in a while which made me thankful, and then concerned that I may have let my desire slip a little. No matter, it was the day that mattered and I was happy to enjoy the beer that came with their praise. I sat in the locker room with my teammates and thought to myself that this is my shelter from the storm.
The book I am currently reading probably sums it up best: "At the amateur level, rugby sets the players at odds with society. Doing anything not for money is odd, but we're doing something seriously and not for money, with the risk of getting hurt, and not for money."
The last couple weeks have seen considerable upheaval in the finance world. For the most part I have insulated myself from just such a crunch by not saving anything and not thinking about my future. Idiocy becomes brilliant strategy when things get turned upside down.
In truth, I do have a couple of assets. Not the least of which is the house that the York Credit Union owns in my name. I’m not sure exactly how it relates but this whole economic crisis start to hit (literally) to close to home if my house isn’t worth as much as it was last year. I do know that the company’s stock is falling like everything else and it’s getting harder to convince my clients in the state that they NEED this online training.
I’m not sure how it’s all going to play out up here but as long as our government doesn’t ask us to give the banks $70 Billion dollars to sort things out I’ll be ok. That’s a lot of money:
Last week, Harper was quoted as saying that 'ordinary Canadians' can't relate to artists gathering at rich galas to complain their subsidies aren't high enough. Atwood's spot on retort was to point out that the vast majority of Canada's artists are of the struggling variety. They may be able to dress up nice for an awards gala but don't let that black tie fool you into believing they are sleeping in piles of cash. In Harper's Canada that luxury is reserved for CEO's of companies that ship our natural resources and their value out of the country. All of the artists I know work hard for very little financial gain.
I would guess that I would be what Stephen Harper would consider an ordinary Canadian. I work 9-5, pay my taxes and drink too much beer. I also have a dream of being extraordinary and writing the great Canadain novel that may never come true becaause I own a house and an artists 'ordinary' income won't cover the mortgage. I can still dream though, and I would like a portion of those taxes I pay to afford the extraordinary artists out there to have a chance to put their works where I can see them. But that's just me...
Yesterday afternoon I was sitting in a car dealership parking lot waiting for Jackman. As I sat there in the sunshine my wandering eyes noticed a rather gruesome scene. About ten feet from my window seat a small field mouse was gorging itself on some unidentified object. As the little bugger danced around his feast it became clear that he was feasting on one of his own. As he turned to munch on the other side of the carcass he faced me and I tried to get the little cannibal's attention, slamming my hand against the car door. No dice; he was not the least bit concerned. Mmmmm...tasty friend.
That is why he did not notice as a large seagullflew in and landed beside he and his buddy. I wondered what the seagull might do and before I could even complete the thought it grabbed the oblivious diner and swallowed him whole. For good measure he then scooped the dead one and took off. That was that.
The message, of course, if your friend dies don't eat him because he might taste so good that you don't even notice the giant bird that would in turn like to eat you.
Today is the first day of fall and it certainly felt like it as I made my was across the walking bridge this morning. It was an absolutely beautiful sunny morning but there was definitely a little bite in the air that wasn't there a month ago.
Just like every year I am left to wonder what the hell happened to my summer. Then I look down at my bruised and battered legs and remember that I played (and coached, and watched) alot of rugby. As per usual, I was able to fit in some summer fun, like canoeing, fishing, and lazing on a beach. It was, and always is, though, never enough.
To give it one last go a few of the boys went out to Doherty's cottage at Maquapit Lake to indulge in the nice weather. The wind made the lake a bit to choppy for a boat ride but it did die down enough for us to be able to enjoy one last summer campfire. There really is nothing quite like it. This time, however, there was no fire-jumping or long-jumping competition. There was a Sunday horseshow competition though and Wheat and I won that. Just sayin...
At Torch's stag party a few weeks ago we found a stash of old Metallica on Doherty's iPod and rocked out for an hour. It was all old Metallica, prior to their minor sell out Black album (videos, ballads, etc.) and Slippy was in all of his glory, headbanging like he still had 8 inches of flowing locks whipping around him.
A new Metallica album came out this month and for the past few years all that has meant for me is to expect to hear some bellyaching from the band about poor record sales due to internet pirates. Maybe not so much this time...the music might actually be getting some attention on its own.
If this song is any indication then the fury over file-sharing actually led to some pissed off, Metallica like music:
Not a true flashback, but the sound takes you back in time.
This weekend is also the end of the line for Summer '08. The weather looks good for this last hurrah so I hope to get out and have some summer fun while the getting is good.
After the funky Charlie Hunter kickoff on Wednesday this kid was primed to settle into some rock and roll. Thursday night's headliner offered just that opportunity. Derek Trucks is a veteran of the Allman Brothers so that kind of pedigree doesn't come with out some talent. Indeed, they say he may be the best slide-guitarist in the world and he didn't do anything to dispel that claim to me. He was amazing yet completely unassuming. His fretwork was all the stage presence he needed. I just hope he had enough fun to bring his other band to the festival next.
For the late show on Thursday we headed to the Hoodoo Tent to see Nick Moss & the Flip Tops. They were a classic Boogie-Blues outfit and, after the ritual greasing of the wheels (rum-rum-rum-rum) I couldn't help but bust a move for at least a few minutes.
I was smart enough to take Friday off this year and that allowed me to a)stay up late, b)sleep in till noon and c)check out Hey Rosetta!'s afternoon show at Officer's Square. It was an acoustic set but they still proved why they have a real buzz about them on the Canadian music scene. Doing something slightly different very well.
Friday night was the night of the biggest name at this year's festival: Buddy Guy. This may be the biggest name in Blues that Harvest has ever attracted. That's why it was all the more exciting to see local boy Ross Neilsen on the bill opening up. Sadly I missed Ross's show but I did hear that he ripped it. Garrett Mason followed Ross and he and his band nailed it as well. They absolutely rocked and set the table for The Man.
Buddy Guy is 72 years old and an absolute legend. He is a 5 time Grammy winner and a major influence on Rock and Roll legends like Hendrix, Clapton and the Stones. He hit the stage and the packed house went nuts. And he tore into it straight off. He was a consumate showman, mugging the crowd, pulling out some tricks, and at one point walking out into the middle of the crowd for a few minutes. The crowd was absolutely in awe. Worth every penny. After he was done the crowd filtered out pretty quickly and by the time the late act hit the stage most of the buzz was gone from the room. They were a brass band consisting of 4 trombones out front and a tuba, drums and rhythm guitar called Bonerama from New Orleans. They were good at what they did and on another night would have amazed me but as it was I was getting tired and thinking about the rugby game I had to play in Moncton the next afternoon. I booked out before their set was ove, around 1am.
After returning from Moncton we got ready for what was sure to be a big party at the Blues Tent culminating in the crazy-that-they-came-here headliner Bloc Party. I had plans to check out both Ana Popovic and Grace Potter because I heard great things about both. A volunteer friend of mine, however, called at 9:30 and said that the Blues Tent was already filling up and that I should expect to wait in line if I arrive anytime after 10:30. So we decided to head straight there at 10. It was a good decision. Grace Potter and The Nocturnals were the highlight of my weekend. They are a Vermont based group that has toured with Dave Matthews, the Black Crows, and soon to be with Neil Young; so they too have good reputation by association. I missed the first couple of songs but once I heard Grace singing decided to head up front solo to get a closer look. She crooned a couple soulful but then ended the second one with a searing jam. The band then went immediately into 'Paint it Black' that opened some eyes and moved some feet. They went straight into a couple of their own numbers and Grace moved back and forth between her organ and her flying V at the head of the stage. She slowed it down to end the set with this beatiful soul song called Big White Gate. The crowd ate it up and it didn't take much to get her back on the stage. When she came back out she said they had time for one more and that she wanted to send this out to her favourite Canadian Neil Young and wanted to dedicate it to "the beautiful little town, this beautiful river, and this beatiful festival." I then proposed to her and she responded by nailing "Down By the River". I couldn't find the actual version but you should check this one out: After that I was pretty much spent and needed to sit down. Bloc Party came out and I made my way back up front to what all the fuss was about. They were tight and they made for one hell of a party but, realistically, it's just not my bag.
My plans to check out the free shows on Sunday were pretty much washed away by my last rum at 4:30. Sunday was indeed a day of rest.
The Festival was what it always is; the best weekend of the year in Fredericton. I was especially happy to see how much local talent is making it on the stages with the big acts and particularly loved reading where Nick Moss's manager calls Fredericton "Pleasantville". I don't need much validation, but there it is.
Harvest started last night and I was right in the thick of it from the get-go as I needed to meet one of the nice folks who offered me a pass to pick mine up. I caught the free shows and then rounded up some troops to check out the first paid-adminssion act; Charlie Hunter.
I knew nothing about this guy before turning up but quickly learned that he enjoys a cult following among guitar afficionados. He plays a hybrid instrument that pumps out both bass and guitar sounds. He was the only string in the three peice band that had more than a full sound. There were no vocals minus his yelling for joy once in while. He played some kickass covers highlited by Biz Markie's "Just a Friend" and The Osmond's "One Bad Apple". Good show to set things off.
As an aside, I thought today that One Bad Apple was an appropriate title track for today, it being September 11th and all. In the spirit of the festival, and bring people together for good times it's important to remember that that Bin Laden fellow is a bad apple but one bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch girl.
Next year at the festival - The Osmonds.
I may not be reporting over the weekend but I'll give a detailed report on Monday.
Fifteen years ago, when the Harvest Jazz and Blues festival was still in its toddler years, Jonny's sister recruited us to volunteer doing security. Security was obviously lax that year but we (and everyone we didn't 'secure') had a great time and kept coming back. Mostly based on the huge volunteer jam parties they used to have at the market, we did security for 2 or 3 more years. I consider those years as paying my dues. Since then, and after my years missing the festival when I was in Victoria, I have instead tried to take in as much of the festival as possible as a fan. The last couple of years I have shelled out for the ultimate pass and wandered freely all weekend. This year I wasn't on the ball and was actually starting to get worried about getting to see what I wanted to see. This morning the Gods smiled.
When I arrived at work I three emails offering 4 passes and I got myself and a couple of friends set up. At that time I told Jackman it was good karma for my role in helping the festival get off the ground. At that point he told me that there is no such things as good or bad karma, there is just karma. There is, on the other hand, such a thing as bad shwarma, and I would advise against that at all costs.
A few hours from now, beneath the French-Swiss border some people way smarter than me will be doing there damndest to use their Large Hadron Collider to recreate the Big Bang that they believe created our universe. In doing so they will also be creating a black hole and, at least theoretically, be proving the potential for time travel. My daydreams are about to get a whole lot more interesting. I'm going to see Zeppelin in their prime!
In all seriousness there is a faction of people who are genuinely concerned that recreating the Big Bang is more than a little dangerous. They think the bang might be bigger than the scientists expect and will either blow up the world or suck the world into the black hole it creates. I'm 1% concerned. To be sure the world still exists when you wake up tomorrow I suggest you either pinch yourself or check this website.
Every Spring Sarah asks me if I would like to have access to the cottage for a weekend or two in the summer. Every Spring I have to tell her that I would love to but can't say when I will have weekends off from rugby until the schedule comes out. So she plans her summer and then once rugby starts she'll tell me she is away such-and-such weekend and invariable, those are weekends that I have rugby, or something.
So last week, with a home game on tap, I jumped at the chance to spenda nice quiet weekend at Balmain Farm. I took a couple of boys down there on Friday night and by the time we stopped for "a drink" at Maquapit Lake it was midnight and we just got to the cottage in time for bed. No matter, that place is really about the mornings. So much so that Wheat even got up early and made breakfast. I made the coffee and we enjoyed a couple of hours of sunshine before heading back to town for my game. We subbed a couple of guys in and made our way back out there about 7:30, in time to set up a fire only to watch it fizzle out in the rain at 10. No matter, that led us inside for the worst card game ever. We then retired to the living room and watched Rocky IV. Classic.
The next morning was more of the same, the weather had cleared somewhat so we were able to enjoy coffees on the deck and then, this being a pimped cottage, we watched the NFL opening day before hitting the road.
I wish I had my own pictures but we were having too much fun to take pictures. I really just wanted to write this to give a huge THANKS to Sarah and Steve. We had a great time.
I find it very hard not to get wrapped up in the American political brouhaha every four years. They just do such and effective job of making such a spectacle of it. Even though the conventions of the last couple of weeks are full of BS aimed squarely at rallying the respective party bases it's still hard not to watch, maybe in the hopes of a train wreck.
It hasn't happened yet. The Democrats had a wildly successful convention that did what they hoped it would. The Republicans had their convention storm-stayed for a day and that allowed them to push Dubya to the fringes where he will cost them the least votes. The big news from that side came from the plucky VP choice Sarah Palin. I will reserve judgement on her but I have to admit that I love a country where the announcement of a political candidate can lead to websites like this. God bless America!
The Daily Show is and has been one of my favourite shows but this is the time that it really is can't miss tv. Amazingly you can watch it all online the day after it airs - for real!
You can consider this my official endorsement for Barach Obama as my choice for President of the USofA.
This is in honour of all of my friends that are starting their first day of school. Whether it be another year of student life, a first year of teacher life, or the first day for student life studying to be a teacher.
I used to get very worked up about having to go back to school that I would ball the night before school started. That only lasted until grade 10 or so. After that I was excited for school, mostly because in grade 10 I had a really sweet mullet to show off and by grade 11 I was on the football team and everyone knows that the football team ruled the school...except for those hockey f*ckers.
I would also like to welcome all the new students to town...behave yourselves!
