I had thought Alice Cooper had quit touring, but I hear a rumor that he and his band are going to make a loop with Canadian 70's-80's rockers Trooper, and they are all bringing their dogs.
Its going to be the Cooper/Trooper Looper,
and the hot item on the merch tables is
the Cooper/Trooper Looper Super Duper Pooper-Scooper.
Thats what I hear, anyway.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Countries of Origin
In Canada, everybody came from somewhere else, or their forebears did. Even the few FBIs (full blooded Indian. First Nations.) who are not mixed with other places' genes, their ancestors came by land bridge way back when.
Where this is going is, my previous manager at work was half German, half Scots. I liked the Scots side, didnt much like the German side. In him, they were distinct, not to sound like a big 'races' guy or anything.
His grandfathers had actually fought on opposite sides of the same battle in WW2. Both survived, obviously but thats pretty damn interesting. Emigrated to Canada after the war was over, settled in the same part of Nova Scotia, had kids, and dang if those kids dont meet up and boink.
I am typing this in the garage (its a perfect day: 22, little breeze, I can smoke out here) on his old laptop I bought from him when he moved to Ontario.
My gal is Polish/Scots. Her dad was in Poland when all Hitler's festivities started, and got out before they were done.
One of my buds is what I call a classic western Canadian mix. He is half Ukrainian from Saskatchewan, Cree from Manitoba, mixed in BC with some Scots.
Where this is going is, my previous manager at work was half German, half Scots. I liked the Scots side, didnt much like the German side. In him, they were distinct, not to sound like a big 'races' guy or anything.
His grandfathers had actually fought on opposite sides of the same battle in WW2. Both survived, obviously but thats pretty damn interesting. Emigrated to Canada after the war was over, settled in the same part of Nova Scotia, had kids, and dang if those kids dont meet up and boink.
I am typing this in the garage (its a perfect day: 22, little breeze, I can smoke out here) on his old laptop I bought from him when he moved to Ontario.
My gal is Polish/Scots. Her dad was in Poland when all Hitler's festivities started, and got out before they were done.
One of my buds is what I call a classic western Canadian mix. He is half Ukrainian from Saskatchewan, Cree from Manitoba, mixed in BC with some Scots.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Dan the Rat Man
I have had some good buds over the years, both of the smokable and human varieties. I knew a man named Dan, he moved to our neighborhood when I was in Grade 8. His mom was raising him, his 2 younger twin sisters, his older sister (who had a great rack) and sometimes his older bro Rick was around, but he was kinda 'underground' cuz he had been a rabble rouser at some riots in the 60s. Dan's mom let us smoke cigarettes in her house, she had one of those great old smoke-makers that was like 20 inches long: you had this huge long paper and put it in the groove, then formed the tobacco in, moistened the glue edge, rolled it up, and it had built in guillotine that cut it into 4 smokes. Also, their house backed onto an empty field that led to the creek party spots along the Red River.
Dan was a smart guy who didnt thrive on school. He had a copy of Leonard Cohen's "the Energy of Slaves" which he liked to quote from, but he skipped out a lot and didnt make it past Grade 10.
I used to cartoon a lot, and Dan's face was a bit pointy , so I drew a cartoon of him as a rat, in a plaid shirt, holding a joint. His last name is Milne, so the talk balloon said: 'the next person that calls me Milney gets a fast one to the head'. Hence, Dan the Rat Man, AKA Rat Milney.
He had some great records, and he dwelt in the basement, and his mom was cool with guys hanging out. More security if her crazy ex came around. Me and Dan once walked from Sevenoaks (jefferson) and Scotia to Brooklands through a 'snowmobiles on the streets' blizzard to get a quarter of hash, and back, in time to bake up and watch an all night horror movie fest on Fargo TV. You have to be from Winterpeg to get that.
Decades pass, Dan gets into the wrong drugs. Havent seen or heard of him for a while, but I wish him well.
He was a great lacrosse player, fast small guy who could stickhandle and dodge the hits, used to play for the north end team, and John Ferguson came to some games when he ran the Jets. Me and some guys are in the bleachers rooting for Dan, chanting "Fergie, Fergie" with booze in paper bags.
Peace out, my friend.
Dan was a smart guy who didnt thrive on school. He had a copy of Leonard Cohen's "the Energy of Slaves" which he liked to quote from, but he skipped out a lot and didnt make it past Grade 10.
I used to cartoon a lot, and Dan's face was a bit pointy , so I drew a cartoon of him as a rat, in a plaid shirt, holding a joint. His last name is Milne, so the talk balloon said: 'the next person that calls me Milney gets a fast one to the head'. Hence, Dan the Rat Man, AKA Rat Milney.
He had some great records, and he dwelt in the basement, and his mom was cool with guys hanging out. More security if her crazy ex came around. Me and Dan once walked from Sevenoaks (jefferson) and Scotia to Brooklands through a 'snowmobiles on the streets' blizzard to get a quarter of hash, and back, in time to bake up and watch an all night horror movie fest on Fargo TV. You have to be from Winterpeg to get that.
Decades pass, Dan gets into the wrong drugs. Havent seen or heard of him for a while, but I wish him well.
He was a great lacrosse player, fast small guy who could stickhandle and dodge the hits, used to play for the north end team, and John Ferguson came to some games when he ran the Jets. Me and some guys are in the bleachers rooting for Dan, chanting "Fergie, Fergie" with booze in paper bags.
Peace out, my friend.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Edmonton on the bus, and a cultural ramble
Having come from a tougher, poorer city, Winnipeg, I find the decent politeness of people in Edmonton getting off the bus saying "thank you!" to the bus driver to be a bit of a mind-blower. I wonder who started it. Or is it like people getting off a wagon train FROM Winnipeg saying "thank you" because their trip is finally over.
Edmonton isnt a weak town by any means, but it is a place favored by immigrants, so there is much more of a presence by recent arrivals. Winnipeggers are mostly people who are born there and die there, and much of the color comes from the Metis people who built the culture there. Native-ish people named by the Scot or Frenchman who knocked up their grandma in 1800, Mackay or Desjarlais, Sinclair or Lambert. Lots of Slavs and Polish or Russian Jews in my part of town too, the Nort End (which sadly, is much wasted by crack and meth now. Booze treated it more kindly). Those Slavs and Jews who used to work on the railway or run barbershops or delis made sure their kids owned their businesses or became dentists or whatever, and the Nort End is a shadow of what it was when I was a kid in the 60s-70s.
I live and work on the south side in Edmonton, on the northern edge of Brown Town. LOTS of people from India, Pakistan, and the middle east came here in the 80s, and they are still coming. And sponsoring their grannies to come and mind the kids while they are out working. Take the #6 bus from Southgate, you'll get it. I work with and enjoy folks from those parts, we get the good ones: politeness standards much higher, work ethic solid, they take care of the grannies n kids.
Vancouver, I think, has areas which are dominated by other cultures, Richmond is Chinese, Surrey is Indian, but here, everybody is more trying to be part of the whole. Lots of other countries of origin I havent mentioned, you can get really good Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese food, Somalia has contributed beautiful women and drug goofs who shoot each other, you do hear Polish and Russian spoken on the LRT, but everybody thanks the bus driver. Which is nice.
Edmonton isnt a weak town by any means, but it is a place favored by immigrants, so there is much more of a presence by recent arrivals. Winnipeggers are mostly people who are born there and die there, and much of the color comes from the Metis people who built the culture there. Native-ish people named by the Scot or Frenchman who knocked up their grandma in 1800, Mackay or Desjarlais, Sinclair or Lambert. Lots of Slavs and Polish or Russian Jews in my part of town too, the Nort End (which sadly, is much wasted by crack and meth now. Booze treated it more kindly). Those Slavs and Jews who used to work on the railway or run barbershops or delis made sure their kids owned their businesses or became dentists or whatever, and the Nort End is a shadow of what it was when I was a kid in the 60s-70s.
I live and work on the south side in Edmonton, on the northern edge of Brown Town. LOTS of people from India, Pakistan, and the middle east came here in the 80s, and they are still coming. And sponsoring their grannies to come and mind the kids while they are out working. Take the #6 bus from Southgate, you'll get it. I work with and enjoy folks from those parts, we get the good ones: politeness standards much higher, work ethic solid, they take care of the grannies n kids.
Vancouver, I think, has areas which are dominated by other cultures, Richmond is Chinese, Surrey is Indian, but here, everybody is more trying to be part of the whole. Lots of other countries of origin I havent mentioned, you can get really good Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese food, Somalia has contributed beautiful women and drug goofs who shoot each other, you do hear Polish and Russian spoken on the LRT, but everybody thanks the bus driver. Which is nice.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
The Parental Time
My folks are both passed, on to the next realm or merely in the ground I dont know. My dad's birthday was Ides of March, March 15, and my ma's was April 1, April Fools Day.
Hence, this time of year I go through some stuff. Its not mourning, or regret, or looking back, its just a time of awareness, some gratefulness, and a lot of reflectiveness. I think about being a kid who had parents, and of being a parent, and of taking care of others.
For instance, I have been sorting through stuff to go to Goodwill because we are moving soon, and I have lived here for 10 years, about a third of that with my son Ed living here too. Found an Alberta flag that used to be the curtain on his bedroom window, took it to work to give to some young guys who are moving into a pad together. Felt a bit dad-ly doing that.
Shared some dad stories with a woman working the till at a liquor store, she was telling me about taking courses on hunting with her son, and going out on hunts with him. I used to jam with my son, not shoot critters with him, but we fished together a number of times. Ed was a really good guitar player before he got into the daily pot smokin, unfortunately that sapped his motivation to practice and get better and is currently limiting him. However, he did get in on some good jams with some talented players, some of whom used to make their living with their axes (or sticks). Dad thoughts.
My mum was a woman (obviously) and its sometimes hard for a guy to imagine how women feel, but taking in some fruit for the young guys at work is something I feel like doing these days. Man cannot live on noodles and McD's alone. She was a deep thinker and feeler, and she was a bit spooky. I think she hovers a bit closer to me this time of year. We both loved spring. I always liked 'making rivers' with the meltwater, and I find myself doing that now, and think of me ol Ma. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sammitches eaten with socks drying on the heat register.
Thanks for taking care of me, Mum n Dad. Hope all is well with you, wherever you might be.
Hence, this time of year I go through some stuff. Its not mourning, or regret, or looking back, its just a time of awareness, some gratefulness, and a lot of reflectiveness. I think about being a kid who had parents, and of being a parent, and of taking care of others.
For instance, I have been sorting through stuff to go to Goodwill because we are moving soon, and I have lived here for 10 years, about a third of that with my son Ed living here too. Found an Alberta flag that used to be the curtain on his bedroom window, took it to work to give to some young guys who are moving into a pad together. Felt a bit dad-ly doing that.
Shared some dad stories with a woman working the till at a liquor store, she was telling me about taking courses on hunting with her son, and going out on hunts with him. I used to jam with my son, not shoot critters with him, but we fished together a number of times. Ed was a really good guitar player before he got into the daily pot smokin, unfortunately that sapped his motivation to practice and get better and is currently limiting him. However, he did get in on some good jams with some talented players, some of whom used to make their living with their axes (or sticks). Dad thoughts.
My mum was a woman (obviously) and its sometimes hard for a guy to imagine how women feel, but taking in some fruit for the young guys at work is something I feel like doing these days. Man cannot live on noodles and McD's alone. She was a deep thinker and feeler, and she was a bit spooky. I think she hovers a bit closer to me this time of year. We both loved spring. I always liked 'making rivers' with the meltwater, and I find myself doing that now, and think of me ol Ma. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sammitches eaten with socks drying on the heat register.
Thanks for taking care of me, Mum n Dad. Hope all is well with you, wherever you might be.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
My insightful buddy at Brown Guys Liquors
Windchill -30 C. Canada won gold in Olympic hockey this morning, but its just another Sunday. My usual routine on Sunday, my only day off for 7 months of the year, is to make a big elaborate chow, currently jambalaya with chicken, hot sausage and shrimp and as many kinds of peppers as I have, plus celery and onion. Poker tourney at 4, the Sunday 2 Grand on Jokerstars. Those remain constant.
Today I went for the beer run up to Whyte Ave by 112 St. , and my buddy Mridul was working; we often chat about stuff. He is a very bright guy, working on his master's in something erudite, like computer modelling for engineering solutions. He works a few 12 hour shifts slangin booze to keep the food in the fridge.
We didnt talk about hockey at all, for some reason he said something about being a Buddhist and washing in the Ganges River, maybe he is tired of being cold. I countered with my own experience which approached Zen, living in the Manitoba bush in winter in an under-insulated cabin. The daily tasks of feeding wood to the stove, and especially hand-augering a hole in the ice to scoop out water for washing. The ice can get to 3 feet thick in winter, and it takes a good half hour to auger through it. My first time, I tried to go too fast, and got sweaty and almost got pneumonia: sweat in -30 can chill you to the core, and the germs jump in. Eventually I learned to time the turns on the auger handle with my breaths, count of 2 in, count of 2 out, pause. It was instructive, even transformative. I also learned to stop the noise in my head that most people have, the muttered worries and plans.
I think the essence of our conversation was that it would be nice to shut that head noise down, so we can think or not think, at will. Turn off the Twitter of the brain. I bet some great people did that, Einstein, Gandhi, Tesla. That's how they were able to invent, they didnt have all that background chatter, so they were working on a clean page.
I aspire to that, but so far, its just been within my grasp a few times in my life.
Today I went for the beer run up to Whyte Ave by 112 St. , and my buddy Mridul was working; we often chat about stuff. He is a very bright guy, working on his master's in something erudite, like computer modelling for engineering solutions. He works a few 12 hour shifts slangin booze to keep the food in the fridge.
We didnt talk about hockey at all, for some reason he said something about being a Buddhist and washing in the Ganges River, maybe he is tired of being cold. I countered with my own experience which approached Zen, living in the Manitoba bush in winter in an under-insulated cabin. The daily tasks of feeding wood to the stove, and especially hand-augering a hole in the ice to scoop out water for washing. The ice can get to 3 feet thick in winter, and it takes a good half hour to auger through it. My first time, I tried to go too fast, and got sweaty and almost got pneumonia: sweat in -30 can chill you to the core, and the germs jump in. Eventually I learned to time the turns on the auger handle with my breaths, count of 2 in, count of 2 out, pause. It was instructive, even transformative. I also learned to stop the noise in my head that most people have, the muttered worries and plans.
I think the essence of our conversation was that it would be nice to shut that head noise down, so we can think or not think, at will. Turn off the Twitter of the brain. I bet some great people did that, Einstein, Gandhi, Tesla. That's how they were able to invent, they didnt have all that background chatter, so they were working on a clean page.
I aspire to that, but so far, its just been within my grasp a few times in my life.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Late February, and reflections
Beautiful robin's egg blue sky with little white brush strokes of clouds. I went out in the back yard of this rather run-down but comfy place I have lived for almost 10 years, remembered when my dog was 7 and my son was 11 and we were all living in this 'cabin in the city'.
I remember when Ed and his buddy Nick were out making a fire in the pit, and it was drizzling a bit. I looked out the kitchen window, thought to myself, 'these boys have a pioneer spirit, makin a fire in the rain.' One was holding a piece of plywood over the pit, while the other lit the kindling. 15 minutes later, I heard a WOOMP, exactly like gas burning up fast, and looked out to see them standing there with sooty faces, and a fire burning. Not so pioneer, but humorous.
I remember when Walter my fine dog was trotting around out in the back yard, keeping the perimeter secure, he had an insulated dog house (built by Ed and me) and an old couch to lie upon. Had some good sessions out on that couch, me and my buds, and Ed and his. Cam , the guitar player from my band in Wpg, he had his son out for a B-ball tourney, he came over and we took the VCR n TV out in the yard and watched Surviving Picasso, one of those great Alberta evenings when it is light until 11:30.
Moving to a new place soon, not far away, but it isnt dog-friendly, and it doesnt have a big fenced yard with backyard couch and coffee table. Nicer, newer, cleaner. I am still an old cowboy/trapper/artist/punk rocker. I want a lot more space than I can afford, a wood stove, a faithful dog, maybe a cat for mice, a vegetable garden, a little distance. Harder to afford that all the time, but I keep hoping.
I remember when Ed and his buddy Nick were out making a fire in the pit, and it was drizzling a bit. I looked out the kitchen window, thought to myself, 'these boys have a pioneer spirit, makin a fire in the rain.' One was holding a piece of plywood over the pit, while the other lit the kindling. 15 minutes later, I heard a WOOMP, exactly like gas burning up fast, and looked out to see them standing there with sooty faces, and a fire burning. Not so pioneer, but humorous.
I remember when Walter my fine dog was trotting around out in the back yard, keeping the perimeter secure, he had an insulated dog house (built by Ed and me) and an old couch to lie upon. Had some good sessions out on that couch, me and my buds, and Ed and his. Cam , the guitar player from my band in Wpg, he had his son out for a B-ball tourney, he came over and we took the VCR n TV out in the yard and watched Surviving Picasso, one of those great Alberta evenings when it is light until 11:30.
Moving to a new place soon, not far away, but it isnt dog-friendly, and it doesnt have a big fenced yard with backyard couch and coffee table. Nicer, newer, cleaner. I am still an old cowboy/trapper/artist/punk rocker. I want a lot more space than I can afford, a wood stove, a faithful dog, maybe a cat for mice, a vegetable garden, a little distance. Harder to afford that all the time, but I keep hoping.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
addictions and farewells
First, to my friends who are trying to kick tobacco (or whatever) this new year: Good luck, good heart, feel loved and respected. It's the same as any shit your body got used to, you have to get rid of it, then get used to not having it, then convince your brain it aint comin back. Count in 12 hour chunks to 96 hours, then count in days to 30 days, then count in weeks till you forget to count. But dont think you can have 'just one', because you cant. Back in the bottom of the fuckin hole if you do. Bad minkey.
Happy and grateful to say I have 4 months and 22 days off tabac.
Farewell and adieu to you fair Garneau ladies, farewell and adieu, ladies of Garneau.. For the landlord has willed that my house be demolished... by April the 10th I must be well away..
I have lived in this fine but eroding house (11246 75 Ave.) for longer than any place I have ever lived except me folks' house at 69 Norham, West St Paul, MB. From which domicile I departed (and sometimes returned, me mum still dwelt there) in the fall of '77. I got here in August 2004, when me fine young feller of a son was 11, and me fine young feller of a German Shepherd was 7. Ed is growed up, Walter is passed on, we are older and different.
I hope that I and my lady shall find swell dwelling in the shire of Pleasantview. I like it down there. I often walk down 106 st to 51 ave, its 15 mins walk to work from there. Close to Big Grocery Stores for her, and 3 liquor stores for me. And Chinese and Empanadas for takeout and delivery.
Wish us all well, butt kickers, movers, lovers of places and people.
RIP Robert Shaw. and Lou Reed.
Happy and grateful to say I have 4 months and 22 days off tabac.
Farewell and adieu to you fair Garneau ladies, farewell and adieu, ladies of Garneau.. For the landlord has willed that my house be demolished... by April the 10th I must be well away..
I have lived in this fine but eroding house (11246 75 Ave.) for longer than any place I have ever lived except me folks' house at 69 Norham, West St Paul, MB. From which domicile I departed (and sometimes returned, me mum still dwelt there) in the fall of '77. I got here in August 2004, when me fine young feller of a son was 11, and me fine young feller of a German Shepherd was 7. Ed is growed up, Walter is passed on, we are older and different.
I hope that I and my lady shall find swell dwelling in the shire of Pleasantview. I like it down there. I often walk down 106 st to 51 ave, its 15 mins walk to work from there. Close to Big Grocery Stores for her, and 3 liquor stores for me. And Chinese and Empanadas for takeout and delivery.
Wish us all well, butt kickers, movers, lovers of places and people.
RIP Robert Shaw. and Lou Reed.
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