I'm working with some interesting bands this week. Been listening to the Skydiggers 20 years retrospective disc that is out on Pheromone records in preparation. I'll be working with this band this week. If you're in Toronto, they're playing five nights at the Dakota. Here's some music as a warm-up! xo and good night world!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
thoughts before bed
Long night. One of those rought and tumble nights that are scripted but not planned. I ran into several old and dear friends of mine and I feel absolutely full of love for seeing them. I miss them all.
One was a friend I'd worked with on a Breakfast TV show in Vancouver. Getting up at five a.m. will made you bond or hate, really. And this one I ran into years later again, once we'd both moved to Toronto. It was so awesome to catch up, and then run away, when I realized I was cramping his pick up styles for a moment in time. :)
The next was a friend who works at the local diner up the street. We drank wine as she was closing up shop with the bartender for the evening. She had a slammed evening and was glad to rant about customers and boys she's trying to date alike. Good times.
Then a departure to downtown, and a run in with an old skool soul mate who I go way back with. I introduced him to my friends in other countries and learned he and his girlfriend are now moved in, and he's so happy. It's great, he deserves it all. I explained the absolute terror and destruction of the CDN music industry right now and he got it, and supported my direction too. It was a good convo.
Then to the old haunt - Ronnies. Ah, nothing better on a warm summer night...
Song to send everyone on their weekend:
One was a friend I'd worked with on a Breakfast TV show in Vancouver. Getting up at five a.m. will made you bond or hate, really. And this one I ran into years later again, once we'd both moved to Toronto. It was so awesome to catch up, and then run away, when I realized I was cramping his pick up styles for a moment in time. :)
The next was a friend who works at the local diner up the street. We drank wine as she was closing up shop with the bartender for the evening. She had a slammed evening and was glad to rant about customers and boys she's trying to date alike. Good times.
Then a departure to downtown, and a run in with an old skool soul mate who I go way back with. I introduced him to my friends in other countries and learned he and his girlfriend are now moved in, and he's so happy. It's great, he deserves it all. I explained the absolute terror and destruction of the CDN music industry right now and he got it, and supported my direction too. It was a good convo.
Then to the old haunt - Ronnies. Ah, nothing better on a warm summer night...
Song to send everyone on their weekend:
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
i was the crazy one
I must've been a sight on my journey home. Wearing a somewhat well-crushed straw cowboy hat, a waterproof columbia jacket, well-dusted jeans, an suitably ironic urban jesus necklace and runners, I was pulling my twenty dollar chinatown-special tweed printed rolling suitcase, and had a black swag bag with from one of Dad's 1998 Mining conferences filled with a towel, blanket, and some boots slung over my shoulder. My hands clutched a cardboard container with two bottles of Okanagan reds. I'd rushed to the bus at the airport level one, and crammed my self and all my various swinging bags (my minolta and my erin templeton leather handbag also dangling from my shoulders) into a seat. The guy beside me caught my eye and smiled.
This is just me. Only I could have a friend who chooses to have a burn-er-up redneck wedding in the middle of fucking nowhere. The cattle ranch location was in the beautiful okanagan valley, miles away from cell phone reception towers and from people who have any idea of what a publicist does for a living. These people talk cattle the way I talk social networking. They know Angus from Herfordshire, and run into irrigators on a daily basis rather than journalists and photographers. They don't unconsciously reach for their blackberry to check the time, and they hear the news on the local radio. They likely wouldn't give a shit that in the week following my visit to their locale, I'd be munching on ordeuves while sipping the bottle of See Ya Later red I acquired from the Kelowna airport wine store.
The guy seated in front of me on the plane from Kelowna to Vancouver on Monday morning was on his way to do a presentation in New Orleans. He'd relocated his family to the Kelowna area 7 years ago and never looked back. I was seated in front of him (somewhat like they do on trains) because our small little plane's row 13 was now full. Row 13 is where the lucky people sit, I'd imagine. Facing towards the back of the plane on take-off, the effect was of severe nausea on take-off. I tried to keep my mind focused on the conversation I was having. He was confiding in our section that those Southern Ontario folk didn't know what they were missing.
While I agree the life out there is agreeable, I found it daunting to shelve my urban life for even three days. I love being outside on a good day, but this was beyond what I could take. It meant I couldn't check in on my sister in the UK via skype, nor receive funny text messages from my Mum. It meant I was in a facebook void so therefore my little brother's life was a bit blanked out from me as well. I hadn't a TV to watch the news, and I missed that.
I probably smelled like a campfire too. I'm sure noone on the TTC express to Kipling could've imagined that in that day, I'd driven the Coquihalla highway to Kelowna, flown to Vancouver, ran a marathon in the airport to the next gate, sustained my life on Miss VIckies chips and Vitaminwater bought at the gate52 newstand store, boarded the plane, grabbed my bags and then got on the express TTC bus to the subway. I'd spent the weekend two-stepping in a tent, being driven around the area by the local caretaker, seeing the baby animals, watching moose bathe in the lake, and soaking up the red sky sunsets at night. It was beautiful, and far away from my daily life as possible. I realized that I was on the other extreme of what I liked and perhaps, if possible, it would be great to find a position in the middle of all this.
As a tribute to the weekend, however, I think I shall buy a watch. Then I won't have an excuse to check the berry so much. Yee-haw.
By the way, the week before the wedding, my friend called long distance, and together with another friend of mine, we came up with some fantastic musical contributions to the weekend.
The song below was our selection for the couple's first dance. It struck just the perfect chord. What a freaking perfect song.
This is just me. Only I could have a friend who chooses to have a burn-er-up redneck wedding in the middle of fucking nowhere. The cattle ranch location was in the beautiful okanagan valley, miles away from cell phone reception towers and from people who have any idea of what a publicist does for a living. These people talk cattle the way I talk social networking. They know Angus from Herfordshire, and run into irrigators on a daily basis rather than journalists and photographers. They don't unconsciously reach for their blackberry to check the time, and they hear the news on the local radio. They likely wouldn't give a shit that in the week following my visit to their locale, I'd be munching on ordeuves while sipping the bottle of See Ya Later red I acquired from the Kelowna airport wine store.
The guy seated in front of me on the plane from Kelowna to Vancouver on Monday morning was on his way to do a presentation in New Orleans. He'd relocated his family to the Kelowna area 7 years ago and never looked back. I was seated in front of him (somewhat like they do on trains) because our small little plane's row 13 was now full. Row 13 is where the lucky people sit, I'd imagine. Facing towards the back of the plane on take-off, the effect was of severe nausea on take-off. I tried to keep my mind focused on the conversation I was having. He was confiding in our section that those Southern Ontario folk didn't know what they were missing.
While I agree the life out there is agreeable, I found it daunting to shelve my urban life for even three days. I love being outside on a good day, but this was beyond what I could take. It meant I couldn't check in on my sister in the UK via skype, nor receive funny text messages from my Mum. It meant I was in a facebook void so therefore my little brother's life was a bit blanked out from me as well. I hadn't a TV to watch the news, and I missed that.
I probably smelled like a campfire too. I'm sure noone on the TTC express to Kipling could've imagined that in that day, I'd driven the Coquihalla highway to Kelowna, flown to Vancouver, ran a marathon in the airport to the next gate, sustained my life on Miss VIckies chips and Vitaminwater bought at the gate52 newstand store, boarded the plane, grabbed my bags and then got on the express TTC bus to the subway. I'd spent the weekend two-stepping in a tent, being driven around the area by the local caretaker, seeing the baby animals, watching moose bathe in the lake, and soaking up the red sky sunsets at night. It was beautiful, and far away from my daily life as possible. I realized that I was on the other extreme of what I liked and perhaps, if possible, it would be great to find a position in the middle of all this.
As a tribute to the weekend, however, I think I shall buy a watch. Then I won't have an excuse to check the berry so much. Yee-haw.
By the way, the week before the wedding, my friend called long distance, and together with another friend of mine, we came up with some fantastic musical contributions to the weekend.
The song below was our selection for the couple's first dance. It struck just the perfect chord. What a freaking perfect song.
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