July 11-18, 2008

Drove to Hamilton yesterday for our gig, had no problems finding the place, greeted by the owner of the gallery, who parked my car, led us to the gallery inside and got us bottles of water. We did a sound check on another tiny stage, no monitors again. I vowed then and there to buy myself a monitor. There was a guy setting up a camera and lights—we were to be filmed, ugh—I only have about three viable outfits-packed badly again, and wasn’t wearing the best one but people tell me I look good. Still it’s hard to play with the lights shining in your eyes. Every show is a new trial, test. Good thing I had my own mike because the ones they had were entirely inadequate. We are ninja, as Roderick says. The building itself was an interesting space, reminded me of Western Front, had been a casket factory, now called the Pearl. There was a beautiful young girl and her mother there who said hello. Her name was Tiana I think and she was going to sing. We set up and waited. And waited. Finally Klyde showed up, warm rasta man, in fact everyone there was very friendly and accomodating. I chatted with Klyde as Roderick noodled on guitar, helping to enliven the room. We talked of Jamaica, island living and slam, tired subject really but everyone seemed to have a take on it. I explain that I was performing my poetry before slam, when spoken word was inclusive, diverse, exciting and interesting. Finally people began to arrive and the show started in earnest. Klyde got up and did his thing, including a hilarious piece about riding a mini bus in Jamaica. Poor Tiana, after patiently waiting, got onstage only to find that the CD player wasn’t hooked up! We had sat there for hours. It seems to me someone, including us, could have done this as we waited. She sang God Bless The Child and Pappa Was a Rollin’ Stone beautifully. She was very poised for a 14-year old and her interpretations were quite fresh. We got up to play, there was a rowdy bunch in the audience but they were enthusiastic though one woman talked through much of the set, which was nearly as distracting as the bright lights in our face from the cameraman and the fact that I can’t hear myself again! This is mickey mouse bullshit and I’m tired of it. So, we performed to a small but enthusiastic crowd, who danced and demanded an encore. We were swarmed after by several cougars and their boyfriends, one with a big scar on his forehead and a tude to match, leering and making lewd suggestions. We go out of there as fast as we could. I’m glad to have met Klyde though. The show was thrown together at the last minute and he invited us back to do something in the future. We are receiving many invitations, some more attractive than others.

Back in Toronto

I was reading again about the bizarre case of sneakered feet washing up on various BC islands and beaches, which is perhaps why I dreamed of losing a sneaker. I was working on a movie set with one of my boyfriends though I can’t recall which one. I heard someone singing, looked over to see that it was Frank Sinatra, standing at the top of a stone staircase. He was wearing my sneaker! He was frail, embraced me, and though swarmed by others I managed to tell him he was one of my favourite singers. Then one of the crew members Continue Reading »

July 5, 2008

Trying to focus as I listen to the sounds of this bloody hotel, a persistent and burrowing whir—a fan perhaps—cleaning staff and some screaming brats using the hallway for a playground. This is the least of my hotel tales. Back to yesterday, which seems like a long time ago, always the case when traveling, no? Spent the day tying as many loose ends as possible. Roderick called me from the airport to let me know we were on different flights! It hadn’t occurred to me that the agent at Flight Centre would do such a thing. I have no idea whether it was intentional or not but in the middle of my packing, I had to call West Jet to switch flights and pay $50. for the privilege. I would have been late too had I not been alerted as the flight she had me on was leaving a half hour earlier.

Then as I was closing up the suitcase my niece had given me in exchange for a larger one she needed after a shopping spree wouldn’t allow her to close it up, only to discover the zipper was broken! I had to scurry down to the crawl space and find another bag, a much heavier one and one that I don’t relish boosting up into the overheads on the plane. I have been meaning to find and purchase the ultimate carry-on bag but I haven’t had time. As I always say, it’s on my list. In any case, I managed to get to the ferry on time, catch a cab in Horseshoe Bay and get to the airport. I had to check bags this time because I needed to bring our merch-CDs and my book. Red eye to Toronto a typical red eye, awful airline food and too cramped to sleep. I usually bring my own food but guess what, I didn’t have time. Therefore, we were pretty bagged by the time we landed, collected our luggage at the baggage carousel and collected the rental car, both endeavours taking a painfully long time, party due to the clerk and I haggling over car models, insurance and gas. They always try to sell you on a more luxurious model, an *upgrade* and scare you into buying their insurance. Checked in after a hairy drive through rush hour traffic, hotel entrance seemingly inaccessible with all the one-way streets, a lot like Vancouver in that respect. Our fully paid for room was not ready so they put us on the fifth floor after I insisted I would not wait in the lobby. We settled in a bit, decided to go deal with the equipment rental, found a pleasant little cafe along the way that served delicious huevos rancheros and coffee. I am trying hard not to pig out, eat too much, been eating half the serving, wrapping up the rest and eating it later. Restaurants serve such huge servings. it’s ridiculous. In this case, Roderick finished my eggs for me as he polished off a side of sausage.

Walked the rest of the way to Long & McQuade to rent the gear. It was hot, we were tired and the store was typically filled with aspiring rock gods wanking on guitars, loudly. Fortunately the store had the pedals we needed, and the amp, and the guitar. Roderick likes play a Telecaster. We were barely holding it together, figuring we would crash when we returned to the hotel but when we got back to the room we were serenaded with loud tapping and drilling sounds from above. Roderick called down to the desk, we both tried negotiating but they claimed they didn’t have another room available. It’s infuriating when you know you are being bullshitted. So much for Hilton hospitality. Continue Reading »