Thick Initials

Has it been a while, or is it just me?

Let's work backwards, shall we?

I'll write about the weekend later. It was fun and crazy and fun and crazy. I'm leaving for NYC tomorrow morning. I can barely contain myself. More on that shortly.

Thursday night, the lovely lady Leah took me out for a delicious meal at Rosebud...it was stellar, and washed it down with a yummy syrah grenache. Yep, that's right, I'm suddenly a wine expert. Maybe...appreciator is the right word. Or perhaps...'drunk'. We followed it up with a visit to a place called "It's Not A Deli" (which it's not.), for a poetry reading, which I haven't been to in many years - I was admittedly skeptical when we walked in and the first guy was ranting about how "God is a romantic scientist"...but he got better, and the night got great. I also have to admit that it made me realize that I've lost touch with the poetic side of myself. I used to write for HOURS, headphones on, intensely focused on making sylables melt into each other, digging through my thesaurus for just the right word. It's been said that poetry is the most efficient form of language, and I used to take that to heart.

Minimum words, maximum impact.

Like "thick initials". That was a line from one of the readers last night and it stuck in my head like glue. I envisioned it to be the name of a band, or the steadfast leader of a verbal army.

Speaking of armies, the night previous I joined the ranks of old fans and new to witness the rarest of performances: Propagandhi. Easily my favorite punk band of all time, and one of the greatest influences over my politics throughout my... more headstrong years. Sigh. I say that with the consideration of everything that I'd written before in this here blog about feeling like I've grown out of my old angry self and become this commuting, complacent adult who eats meat, smokes cigars and is actually considering voting Liberal come springtime. But Prop set me right, if not just in my own head. First off all, the venue SUCKED. But standing in line, I ran into Dallas + Greg, bros from back home who both, incidentally, roomie'd with my sister at one time. It was great to see familiar faces, and have someone to scream lyrics with and to. I thrashed, I pushed, I got pushed back, we pumped fists and pogo'd. It was great.



Tuesday...day 2 of work, which is going swimmingly...more on that in a sec. We had an easy assignment - go to Ann Arbor, Michigan, for a dinner meeting with the agency for one of our artists, Luke Doucet. We hopped in the car around 3, arriving at the border around 4:30...and that's where it ended. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't like borders, AT ALL. I start to sweat and my heart races and I get all paranoid that I'm going to be arrested for looking at a border cop the wrong way. Anyways, one of my co-workers is a landed immigrant, from the UK, which caused a wee bit of hassle...anyways, long story short, we were there for THREE HOURS, which made us late for dinner, late for the show, late late late. So we turned around and drove straight back. Moral of the story: don't bring anything worth anything over the border.

Last Monday, I started work at my new job at Six Shooter, which totally fucking rules. They are the reason I'm going to CMJ in NYC tomorrow. I'm so stoked my stomach hurts. THAT STOKED.

Anyone got any...tips?

Holla atcha boyee, friends. More from zee big pomme.

todos es buenos

7 things I'm loving right now, in no real order:


7. The new fall mix from Arveen, an electro/tech DJ from Dublin who randomly drops little bombs of awesome.

Graffe Giraph gets all the credit.



6. My cat, Reese. OUR cat, I should say. She's feisty and stubborn and always hungry...which kinda reminds me of me. Despite almost killing us on the way to Toronto, I'm totally crushed out on the wee thing. I like the idea of caring for something whose entire survival depends on me.



5. The new LCD Soundsystem song, 45:33. It's...really long. 45:33, to be exact. It's only on iTunes. I bought it. Buy it. (Link can be sound on the Myspace. Click above.) It's worth it. I walked home almost in a trance, lost in Ohio Players-style horns, drenched in disco and droney electro warbles. I know, it was commissioned by Nike, but it's a solid piece of art. James Murphy rules, end of story.


4. My new hood. St. Clair Avenue. The old little Italy. The drunk old men. The funny fat ladies who own food stands. The shouts and chants of the teenage boys playing soccer that I can see from my sun room. Louie, the guy who bought an old dress shop and turned it into a cafe, just because he really likes coffee. It's great here.



3. My iPod. Being in Toronto when you don't know anyone means you spend a lot of time alone. My little rectangular black friend never fails to keep me company on the subway, rainy street or cafe window.



2. My new place. It looks SO much different than it does right there; we've painted our bedroom, got things organized...mostly. I like having a quiet little office/sunroom to work in, a big-ish kitchen to cook in, and family around. That's one of the best parts. My mom's coming to visit this weekend. So is the Sis. radtastic.



1. See above. I let myself forget, too often, that love takes work. Here's to patience, on both sides.

nous sommes ici

we're here.

well, we've been here for a few days now, but amidst the actual moving part of moving, I haven't had a chance to blog about it yet. The drive was...long. I last left you in Thunder Bay at the tail end of a fantastic vegan thanksgiving meal. Heading further east into Ontario led us to discover many things about this fair province, including but not limited to the complete lack of anything other than "chinese", "canadian" or "italian" food in any town or city under 200,000 people. I've had enough fried rice to last me a lifetime. I put quotes around it because of the place in Sault Ste. Marie we ate at where italian loaf was on the same page as hamburgers and chop suey. gross. In fact, "The Sault" (say it with me, "The Sooo") was gross, but hardly as bleak and apocalyptic as...gasp! SUDBURY.



at least they know how to make a good bowl of soup.

We arrived in Toronto in the middle of rush hour, in a rainstorm. Cars whizzed by ours, red brake lights raising and falling like a VU meter, honking randomly and thoroughly freaking out our cat Reese. Driving in Toronto is...challenging. The streets are kind of narrow, streetcars share lanes with vehicles, and pedestrians walk wherever they want. Don't get me wrong, this is the kind of city I LIKE, and will grow to love. I just ended up feeling a little like a prairie mouse in a big town or something.

I almost had forgotten how deep of an impact this town made on me last time I was here. The impact continues.

Much more stories to come.
Are you keeping well, friends?

2071.4

Door to door, it is 2071.4 km to Andriko's house, from my former home in Edmonton, to where I am now in Thunder Bay. He and his girlfriend Amy live in a beautiful 1950's split-level house that looks like it was furnished by an 80-year old woman. I think it probably was, at some point. It doesn't have a living room, it has a PARLOR. So rad. It's been nice to be able to travel long stretches, get out of the car and see a shining, smiling, FAMILIAR face. I have a feeling those are about to become a lot more few and far between.

The drive from Winnipeg was somewhat hellish. Too many trucks, AND...


the speed limit is 90 in Ontario. What the fuck?

Winnipeg was as lovely as I remember it. Warm people, nice conversation, a city truly stretching its pomo architechture legs. In fact, one of the last times I was there was a few years ago, with Andriko again, but in a different capacity. Time passes, I'm back in the new with a friendly slice of the old.

Today, we truck FAR. At least as far as Sault Ste. Marie, maybe all the way to Sudbury. Ontario is a really nice surprise. Billions of beautiful lakes. Lots of seriously hillarious signage.(I looked online for an example, came up empty.)

I think I'm gonna like it here.






Namaste, friends.

30 minutes.

Well, this is it. The cat is sedated, the car is packed. 6:10 AM. Ready to roll.





Not goodbye. See you soon.

Edmonton, it's been a slice. After about a million bear hugs, many many many tears and heartfelt outpourings, I'm feeling as ready as I'm ever going to be to make a trip like this. Take care of eachother, yes?

2.

Bliss is...


...a warm afternoon, Lightning Bolt blasting in the headphones, a long walk by myself across the High Level Bridge, running into a half-dozen friends who I wanted to see before I left, a glass of wine, a pint of beer, a yummy lunch, big hugs, warm smiles, affectionate words, and promises of reunion.

2 days to go. A few more shared meals, tears and the like.

Much love, friends.


ps: This band rules,y'hear?