You're born. You live. You die. Your legacy is left as the memories people have of you. You are eternal in their eyes, in their hearts, in their lives, and their laptops.
I have recently lost a few friends at tragically young ages, to different, unexpected circumstances. In all cases technology has played a large role in the grieving process. In one case, I was notified of a dear friends passing by receiving a text message after my plane landed. In another, and several other cases, I was notified on Facebook by a status update reading RIP. I have been invited to memorial pages for friends of mine that I had no idea had died, and it's not that I'm not great friends with them, it's just that they live far away or are important people from my past. It's like logging on to Facebook and in my news feed it reading "You have 1 dead friend."
Now with the onslaught of status updates and profile pictures and virtual communication one has to wonder, what if this tweet is my last?
Your twitter page, your Facebook profile, your Myspace will forever serve as an online memorial of your life and your friends. It will serve as a way for your friends to mourn and grieve and in most cases it will always be there. Many people won't know your passwords, and your Facebook will be a preserved memory of you.
In a way this concept seems eerie to me, this long standing snapshot of your days as a living breathing human, and the realization that you are, in fact, dead. On the other hand I feel that this is a touching and effective way of remembering the past and your friendships. Your Facebook page reminding us all of how alive you were, and how much we all love you, your wall serving as a your guestbook, full of memories and testimonials of your character.
So when you go forth and tweet, ask yourself, what if this tweet were your last? What if these words were the last words we would ever read from you online?
And on that note, Tweet in peace my friends, and may you always be remembered on Facebook.
RIP Thomas, Andrew, Robert, and Alison.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Americano Polish Guinness Regrets.
Enough.
Enough of this sad sob story that some would call my summer.
This is ridiculous. Bad shit happened. I had to get over it. Summers over and I'm over it now.
I'm sitting in my amazing coffee shop in Vancouver, listening to the New Pornographers and drinking my coffee black. I've never had my coffee black before yesterday and that was because i simply forgot to put anything in my amazing Turk's americano. Large. $3.20
Coupled with an Apple Juice. Large. Cold. $1.20. and a cup of Ice cubes that are actually round.
I feel like i have become a coffee snob. One of those people who looks down on people who put shit in their coffee. People who don't know who the New Pornographers are. I already look down on people who use white sugar in their coffee when there's a brown sugar alternative.
What a bitch.
There's a handsome Polish man coding websites sitting next to me and a cloud of Guinness charged regrets hovering over me. Drunkenly went and spoke my mind. Scared the shit out of someone that I care about, and as much as I'd love to go back and make it all not happen, what some might call Regret, I can't really feel regret for having been honest. Drunkenly honest. But honest none the less.
Now i sit. A veritable BOWL of coffee before me. Myriad Harbour in my ears and a cute Polak coding next to me uttering words I sort of understand. Wondering what the heck is going to come at me next. Now that i'm a coffee snob I mean.
~j
Enough of this sad sob story that some would call my summer.
This is ridiculous. Bad shit happened. I had to get over it. Summers over and I'm over it now.
I'm sitting in my amazing coffee shop in Vancouver, listening to the New Pornographers and drinking my coffee black. I've never had my coffee black before yesterday and that was because i simply forgot to put anything in my amazing Turk's americano. Large. $3.20
Coupled with an Apple Juice. Large. Cold. $1.20. and a cup of Ice cubes that are actually round.
I feel like i have become a coffee snob. One of those people who looks down on people who put shit in their coffee. People who don't know who the New Pornographers are. I already look down on people who use white sugar in their coffee when there's a brown sugar alternative.
What a bitch.
There's a handsome Polish man coding websites sitting next to me and a cloud of Guinness charged regrets hovering over me. Drunkenly went and spoke my mind. Scared the shit out of someone that I care about, and as much as I'd love to go back and make it all not happen, what some might call Regret, I can't really feel regret for having been honest. Drunkenly honest. But honest none the less.
Now i sit. A veritable BOWL of coffee before me. Myriad Harbour in my ears and a cute Polak coding next to me uttering words I sort of understand. Wondering what the heck is going to come at me next. Now that i'm a coffee snob I mean.
~j
Monday, June 15, 2009
Spotlight
The swells in the current that runs through my ears make my heart beat faster than normal. It excites me more than anything I’ve heard in my life before. The crescendos crashing into my soul like the rise and fall of my stomach in an elevator. Butterflies. Purple and blue and green.
Two of the sweetest voices I’ve ever heard melting into one perfect harmony, like the lap of water on the shore. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this. This amazing rush, this excitement. The sound of pure musical passion on one EP. Three songs is not enough. Three minutes is not enough, three songs is not enough, three days still. My fingers ache to play such beauty, my voice cries out to sing these notes, but I hesitate. No voice could be as sweet as these three. The music flows so perfectly and seamlessly and suddenly I want muffins. Coffee shop comfort and cowboy boots. Floral dresses spinning madly in circles, silhouettes and dynamic melodies.
I wish I could write like this. I wish I could pick up my guitar and just play the most amazing music. The music my heart belts out every moment of every day. It’s the song that lives in my soul, writhes in my belly and keeps me tossing and turning in perfect rhythm with your bass lines. This is the soundtrack to my life, to my accomplishments, to my failures. My love song, my breakup song, my song in the key of G. These are the songs I hear on the streets where I live, the streets where I grew up and the streets I haven’t walked yet. Driving songs, driving me forward into the unknown. And always with you singing with me.
It’s always been this way. Always. I heard the music in my mother’s womb, I kicked out rhythms to find a way to speak to the world. Tell them the stories of my existence. Twenty-one short years later, the stories still long to be told, memories I haven’t had yet call out in my mind.
The currents swell in my ears. My heart beats faster and I’m excited because this music in my ears, the sweetest voices, the crescendos, is what I’ve been looking for. It’s the beginning of something great, something that will pull me through.
And yet, it is not mine.
Two of the sweetest voices I’ve ever heard melting into one perfect harmony, like the lap of water on the shore. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this. This amazing rush, this excitement. The sound of pure musical passion on one EP. Three songs is not enough. Three minutes is not enough, three songs is not enough, three days still. My fingers ache to play such beauty, my voice cries out to sing these notes, but I hesitate. No voice could be as sweet as these three. The music flows so perfectly and seamlessly and suddenly I want muffins. Coffee shop comfort and cowboy boots. Floral dresses spinning madly in circles, silhouettes and dynamic melodies.
I wish I could write like this. I wish I could pick up my guitar and just play the most amazing music. The music my heart belts out every moment of every day. It’s the song that lives in my soul, writhes in my belly and keeps me tossing and turning in perfect rhythm with your bass lines. This is the soundtrack to my life, to my accomplishments, to my failures. My love song, my breakup song, my song in the key of G. These are the songs I hear on the streets where I live, the streets where I grew up and the streets I haven’t walked yet. Driving songs, driving me forward into the unknown. And always with you singing with me.
It’s always been this way. Always. I heard the music in my mother’s womb, I kicked out rhythms to find a way to speak to the world. Tell them the stories of my existence. Twenty-one short years later, the stories still long to be told, memories I haven’t had yet call out in my mind.
The currents swell in my ears. My heart beats faster and I’m excited because this music in my ears, the sweetest voices, the crescendos, is what I’ve been looking for. It’s the beginning of something great, something that will pull me through.
And yet, it is not mine.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
From The Mouths Of Babes.
For someone who is so cynical about government I would have to question why one would run for office.
Involvement in politics with such cynicism should be taken with great caution; to think that someone who has such little faith in "government" as a whole entity, should get involved in the first place is highly improvident. Government as a whole should not be doubted. Our government is what gives us our daily luxuries which we revel in exploiting and most of us blindly take for granted. Our government allows us to have a voice in the way our country is run and allows us freedoms that many people have killed and died for.
If one chooses to represent oneself by sarcastic and mordant comments about an system you have no faith in, perhaps one should think twice about participating in the electoral process, let alone having a hand in campaigning and running for office.
If the issue at hand is the current administration, one should be more specific in one's public condemnation of the authority that grants us our liberties. I wonder what a woman who is sentenced to public stoning would think of such a cavalier attitude towards a system that dictates a fair justice system and equal rights; but then again it could be pretty easy overlook such vital errors in corrupt authoritative systems as a North American white male.
To love, and choose, and create and exist, without fear. To decide and vote and matter. To be provided for and taken care of. To have health care, and fair justice, and security, and financial assistance. These are things our government provides for us and these things should not be mocked.
As a politician, you are tied to a system that one would hope you have faith in. A lot of faith in. Again, if the problem is with the current administration, and your aim is to endeavour to change it, then be specific in your revilement and be prudent in your public depictions.
Sarcasm and sardonicism are all well and good, and while I understand that one wants to be portrayed as witty and educated, slighting a system you are actively involved in only makes you appear foolish, imprudent, and irresponsible. Exactly like "the government" in your comments that you freely broadcast and circulate to the public.
Perhaps you are well suited for politics after all.
Involvement in politics with such cynicism should be taken with great caution; to think that someone who has such little faith in "government" as a whole entity, should get involved in the first place is highly improvident. Government as a whole should not be doubted. Our government is what gives us our daily luxuries which we revel in exploiting and most of us blindly take for granted. Our government allows us to have a voice in the way our country is run and allows us freedoms that many people have killed and died for.
If one chooses to represent oneself by sarcastic and mordant comments about an system you have no faith in, perhaps one should think twice about participating in the electoral process, let alone having a hand in campaigning and running for office.
If the issue at hand is the current administration, one should be more specific in one's public condemnation of the authority that grants us our liberties. I wonder what a woman who is sentenced to public stoning would think of such a cavalier attitude towards a system that dictates a fair justice system and equal rights; but then again it could be pretty easy overlook such vital errors in corrupt authoritative systems as a North American white male.
To love, and choose, and create and exist, without fear. To decide and vote and matter. To be provided for and taken care of. To have health care, and fair justice, and security, and financial assistance. These are things our government provides for us and these things should not be mocked.
As a politician, you are tied to a system that one would hope you have faith in. A lot of faith in. Again, if the problem is with the current administration, and your aim is to endeavour to change it, then be specific in your revilement and be prudent in your public depictions.
Sarcasm and sardonicism are all well and good, and while I understand that one wants to be portrayed as witty and educated, slighting a system you are actively involved in only makes you appear foolish, imprudent, and irresponsible. Exactly like "the government" in your comments that you freely broadcast and circulate to the public.
Perhaps you are well suited for politics after all.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
White Folding Chairs
n white folding chairs, we begin.
Parents pace, and wonder.
In chairs made of metal and plastic.
In folding chairs that hurt our backs
We grow, we see, we learn
In chairs that define our place
In white folding chairs we succeed
Mentors celebrate and rejoice
The chairs that lead to our future
In chairs with arms and deadlines
We work and prioritize our lives
Chairs that demand of our time
With White folding chairs, we dance
And bind our two young souls
The chairs that waltz around us
In chairs of Oak, we plead
We bargain from every angle
The chairs that we don’t own
In white folding chairs, we wait
I pace, and I wonder
About the chairs that you grace.
In chairs of Leather and hair
We reflect upon the years
Chairs that will embrace us
In white folding chairs, I watch,
The tears soak my lashes
The chairs that take you away
White folding chairs.
Parents pace, and wonder.
In chairs made of metal and plastic.
In folding chairs that hurt our backs
We grow, we see, we learn
In chairs that define our place
In white folding chairs we succeed
Mentors celebrate and rejoice
The chairs that lead to our future
In chairs with arms and deadlines
We work and prioritize our lives
Chairs that demand of our time
With White folding chairs, we dance
And bind our two young souls
The chairs that waltz around us
In chairs of Oak, we plead
We bargain from every angle
The chairs that we don’t own
In white folding chairs, we wait
I pace, and I wonder
About the chairs that you grace.
In chairs of Leather and hair
We reflect upon the years
Chairs that will embrace us
In white folding chairs, I watch,
The tears soak my lashes
The chairs that take you away
White folding chairs.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
24 hours with Corys and how it changed how I'm living life today
Today I woke up and I decided to eat my breakfast while watching the Pilot episode of a new Fox Television show called Glee. It's set in a typical Ohio high school filled with stereotypical jocks, cheerleaders, geeks, and of course, the glee club. Normally I would pass on a show like this, but it happens to star a local boy who I've worked with in the past and who's story to get on the show is an inspiring one for a somewhat defeated actor wannabe like myself.
http://www.theprovince.com/entertainment/Looking+back+life+with+Glee/1694530/story.html
Here's the kicker. The show is good, and I am such a sucker for a really good musical number. Which they do fantastically. They sing songs that you know, that I as a musical geek know, that have had radio play and that have been musical theatre classics.
Yesterday was an interesting day for me. I woke up, and checked my Facebook, read the province story on Cory, and went for breakfast with my friend Dave who is a VFS grad like myself. We talked about his classes he's taking now, and auditioning and Cory, and the like, and then I went to the beach with my other friend (who coincidentally is also named Cory). This Cory is someone who is straight forward, adventurous, optimistic and a great person to be around. We started talking about my acting, and how I haven't really done anything about it. How I'm a singer, but haven't really done anything about it. He asked me what I need to get it going, and I lamented somewhat hopelessly that I need headshots that don't suck, and a reel that is decent enough to get an agent with, and how I could be really good if I actually tried.
I recalled telling a friend of my cousins, Dan, about acting as well, and how I have wanted to do it my whole life and he said I'd be good at it, he could see it. I told him I was scared. It's much easier for me to not try at something and say I could have than it is for me to try it and fail at something that has meant so much to me my whole life. It's the same for music.
This is my crutch, my fear that I share with so many people in the world. It keeps them in their offices and on the sidelines ignoring what truly drives them. I claim not to be one of these people, and I know that I can do better than where I am at now. I just need to conquer this fear.
So yesterday, when I was driving with Cory, all I could think about was why do I keep lying to myself and why do I keep sitting on the sidelines when every inch of my body screams to do something else. Cory has lived this amazing life (he might not think so, but I do) with stories that make me want to jump on a sailboat and get caught in a storm, or jump on a stage and tell a story with my voice, my body. There is never a moment in my life when I have been happier, and still I sit on the sidelines. Watching everyone else.
Actor Cory, was amazing in the show I watched this morning. A success story that hits close to home and makes me say "Hey, I can do that!" and not only makes me want to fight this fear and get out there acting. It makes me want to start singing again.
So today, I picked up my Bass, played a few riffs. Got a new song, started singing again, really singing, not just fucking around. I cleaned up my resume, dug up my acting reels, and I am going to do whatever it takes to make this dream come true. Who says I can't have more that one dream, who says I can't do both.
24 hours later. After reading a shoddily written article about a Cory who did everything he could. After being inspired by a Cory who takes life full on, and after seeing the results of perseverance and confidence this morning. I have decided to start living my life for my dreams that I have pushed aside, and have decided not to live in the fear of my own failure.
Even if the storm comes and I lose my boat in the Atlantic, what a ride it will have been.
http://www.theprovince.com/entertainment/Looking+back+life+with+Glee/1694530/story.html
Here's the kicker. The show is good, and I am such a sucker for a really good musical number. Which they do fantastically. They sing songs that you know, that I as a musical geek know, that have had radio play and that have been musical theatre classics.
Yesterday was an interesting day for me. I woke up, and checked my Facebook, read the province story on Cory, and went for breakfast with my friend Dave who is a VFS grad like myself. We talked about his classes he's taking now, and auditioning and Cory, and the like, and then I went to the beach with my other friend (who coincidentally is also named Cory). This Cory is someone who is straight forward, adventurous, optimistic and a great person to be around. We started talking about my acting, and how I haven't really done anything about it. How I'm a singer, but haven't really done anything about it. He asked me what I need to get it going, and I lamented somewhat hopelessly that I need headshots that don't suck, and a reel that is decent enough to get an agent with, and how I could be really good if I actually tried.
I recalled telling a friend of my cousins, Dan, about acting as well, and how I have wanted to do it my whole life and he said I'd be good at it, he could see it. I told him I was scared. It's much easier for me to not try at something and say I could have than it is for me to try it and fail at something that has meant so much to me my whole life. It's the same for music.
This is my crutch, my fear that I share with so many people in the world. It keeps them in their offices and on the sidelines ignoring what truly drives them. I claim not to be one of these people, and I know that I can do better than where I am at now. I just need to conquer this fear.
So yesterday, when I was driving with Cory, all I could think about was why do I keep lying to myself and why do I keep sitting on the sidelines when every inch of my body screams to do something else. Cory has lived this amazing life (he might not think so, but I do) with stories that make me want to jump on a sailboat and get caught in a storm, or jump on a stage and tell a story with my voice, my body. There is never a moment in my life when I have been happier, and still I sit on the sidelines. Watching everyone else.
Actor Cory, was amazing in the show I watched this morning. A success story that hits close to home and makes me say "Hey, I can do that!" and not only makes me want to fight this fear and get out there acting. It makes me want to start singing again.
So today, I picked up my Bass, played a few riffs. Got a new song, started singing again, really singing, not just fucking around. I cleaned up my resume, dug up my acting reels, and I am going to do whatever it takes to make this dream come true. Who says I can't have more that one dream, who says I can't do both.
24 hours later. After reading a shoddily written article about a Cory who did everything he could. After being inspired by a Cory who takes life full on, and after seeing the results of perseverance and confidence this morning. I have decided to start living my life for my dreams that I have pushed aside, and have decided not to live in the fear of my own failure.
Even if the storm comes and I lose my boat in the Atlantic, what a ride it will have been.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Anniversary
It's been a year since graduation.
I wonder, am I anywhere close to where I thought I'd be by now?
Last year, I would have anticipated having one agent, one less tattoo, three less heartaches, one more boyfriend, two less plane tickets, three more acting gigs, one less tour, one less global exploration, three more credits, six more friends, two less losses, a million less doubts.
22 looms. No longer can I re-invent the definition of "Student" and get away with it. Student of the world, yes. Student of life, Always. Student of an institution, not so much.
I feel old in my skin. I feel ancient. Time passes so slowly, and yet, in an instant we have become unrecognizable. The weight hangs differently, the skin is not so pure. Time takes it's toll, even on those of us who are young. I feel it every day.
I feel the rain in my knee, and thunder in my heart. I cannot keep track of all my dreams. They don't die, they just change, and come back twice as strong.
Those who time has become more acquainted feel my age, but doubt it by it's number. Those who are naive, doubt me.
Spring time ambition paints a rosy picture for the future to come. A poor choice on my part. Why did I choose a time of year when life would be starting anew and sun would re-appear, to mark my progress in life.
Where am I supposed to be? I suppose just where I am.
What would the 13 year old version of me think? Would I look at myself and say "wow, I can't wait to meet that girl!" or would I run and hide under my bed, and pretend the world doesn't turn.
I want to be the person I would look up to, and I wouldn't regret.
Regrets are a waste of energy anyhow. They give excuses to the choices we've made. They allow us to pass on our guilt, and shame of ill favoured choices.
Today is just another day to mark my time.
Happy Anniversary
I wonder, am I anywhere close to where I thought I'd be by now?
Last year, I would have anticipated having one agent, one less tattoo, three less heartaches, one more boyfriend, two less plane tickets, three more acting gigs, one less tour, one less global exploration, three more credits, six more friends, two less losses, a million less doubts.
22 looms. No longer can I re-invent the definition of "Student" and get away with it. Student of the world, yes. Student of life, Always. Student of an institution, not so much.
I feel old in my skin. I feel ancient. Time passes so slowly, and yet, in an instant we have become unrecognizable. The weight hangs differently, the skin is not so pure. Time takes it's toll, even on those of us who are young. I feel it every day.
I feel the rain in my knee, and thunder in my heart. I cannot keep track of all my dreams. They don't die, they just change, and come back twice as strong.
Those who time has become more acquainted feel my age, but doubt it by it's number. Those who are naive, doubt me.
Spring time ambition paints a rosy picture for the future to come. A poor choice on my part. Why did I choose a time of year when life would be starting anew and sun would re-appear, to mark my progress in life.
Where am I supposed to be? I suppose just where I am.
What would the 13 year old version of me think? Would I look at myself and say "wow, I can't wait to meet that girl!" or would I run and hide under my bed, and pretend the world doesn't turn.
I want to be the person I would look up to, and I wouldn't regret.
Regrets are a waste of energy anyhow. They give excuses to the choices we've made. They allow us to pass on our guilt, and shame of ill favoured choices.
Today is just another day to mark my time.
Happy Anniversary
Monday, April 13, 2009
I've always been afraid of jinxing things. I've always wished on stars. Every day at 11:11 i stop and silently utter the same wish i've had since i was six. I've fallen victim to fate. I've seen ghosts. I've had dreams turn into reality. I've been called crazy. I've been called worse. I've knocked on wood. I've crossed my heart. I've pinky sworn. I've actually sworn. Several times. In a church. I've asked god for help. I've asked the universe too. I named my guitar. I named your car. I've spoken without words. I've used my mind to move things. I've taken solace in the moon. I've taken the soul of the sun. I've prayed. I've jumped sidewalk blocks to not step on the cracks. I've held my breath over railroad tracks. I've never run from a black cat. I've opened umbrellas indoors. I've jumped in elevators. I've screamed on rollercoasters. I've cried in carwashes. I have carefully compiled the soundtrack to my life. The soundtrack to my heartbreak. The soundtrack to my memories. Never to my death. I've woken up without you. I've woken up miles away from you on the same bed. I've woken up crying. You woke up laughing. Singing. I've always loved breathing in the cold. Lungs shrinking. Hurting. I love running in the dark. I love making eye contact. I love touch. I hopscotch to the bus stop. I'm terrible at bowling. I'm terrible at tennis. I'm terrible at skateboarding. I'm terrible at saying what i need to say. I'm great at saying what i want to say. I break easily. I am resiliant. I'm shy. I hate being alone. I don't smile enough. I cry too much. It's not always bad. I watch people. I watch trees. I see things no one else does. I make up stories. I am a great liar. I am incredibly truthful. I am blunt. Razor Sharp. I have too much ambition. Pro-action. I'm scared of dying. Scared of loving. Scared of living. I love living. I love feeling. I am scared no one will see me. I'm scared they won't get me. I'm terrified of being buried alive. I'm anxious to make my life happen. I love basking in the warmth of the spring sun. I love the torrential rain in Texas. I love hugging. I don't like sex. I don't like bacon. Beef. I love chicken wings. They don't like me. I want sunsets. No sunrises. I want candy everyday. Gummies. Wurmies. I want ice cream kisses. I want snowflakes on my eyelashes. I want arms to fall into. I want brownstone walk ups, with fire escapes. I want New York winters, California summers. I want to live like the songs you play. I want to be your Judy Garland. Your Maria. Your kitten with yellow hair. I want every morning to be excitement and every night contentment. I've sung you to sleep. Sung your praises. Sung to you so you won't hear. I need piano solos. Key changes. Sly smiles make my heart race. Pompadours too. Combs in the back pocket. Girls with cute haircuts and pretty eyes. Boys with tattoos.
I'm terrified. I've wished. I'm crazy. I want. I'm anxious. I love. I need. I'm scared. I'm terrible. I've seen. I've sung. I've cried. I'm afraid.
I'm jus.
I'm terrified. I've wished. I'm crazy. I want. I'm anxious. I love. I need. I'm scared. I'm terrible. I've seen. I've sung. I've cried. I'm afraid.
I'm jus.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
I Survived SXSW
Yikes.
Austin, Texas is about a million degrees, hot and sticky and during South By South West is packed with people.
Every little tiny place where they could possibly put a stage, they do. It's an interesting combination of half assed bands with huge ego's and mid-level-successful bands with none. One must have an Artists pass to get anywhere cool, but the workhorses who make you look and sound cool get jack. "I'm with the band" gets you everywhere and nowhere, at the same time. It's like the volunteers for SXSW suddenly have this responsibility, they get to play god with musicians.
This whole weekend has been craaaaaaazy. Touring with Trail of Dead, is a tough gig to begin with. Touring with Trail of Dead during South by South West is a gargantuan task. Down time is not really an option, and it's an endless cycle of load gear in, load gear out, find parking, get yelled at by cops and volunteers, run errands for the band, then load the gear out again, load the gear in again. Load the gear out, re-load the empty cases, then find parking, then set up gear. Tear down gear, find the van, park the van as close as possible, un-load the empty cases, fill the empty cases, re-load the van. Then drive to the next venue for the next show.
Last night trail of dead played a venue called emo's, at about 11pm. Load in was at about 6. Then we had to load out after the show, and get to a venue for the Spin Magazine, SXSW after party. At this point, everyone but a few of us were a little tipsy. Some were a little more hammered than tipsy. This made the load out process that much more fun. We ended up at the venue, and unloaded gear. TOD was supposed to go on at 2:30am. They were then pushed to 3am. They actually went on closer to 4am. Leaving plenty of time in the well stocked green room and the open bar party for more drinking.
Needless to say, the show was epic. Standing on drum kits, jumping into the crowd, broken glass, etc etc etc. We ended up loading out and getting home at around 5:30. I was asleep by 6.
SXSW is over, and today is the aftermath of that. I haven't had a drink since Vancouver and it's amazing. It's nice to be able to focus on learning and working in Rock and Roll, than living the Rock and Roll lifestyle.
At this point, i'm sleepy, and smelly and need a coffee and a shower. Probably about 18 more hours of sleep, but without a doubt, I learned SO much, and wouldn't give up this opportunity for the world. I love tour, I love Music, and I love being in the thick of it.
xo
Austin, Texas is about a million degrees, hot and sticky and during South By South West is packed with people.
Every little tiny place where they could possibly put a stage, they do. It's an interesting combination of half assed bands with huge ego's and mid-level-successful bands with none. One must have an Artists pass to get anywhere cool, but the workhorses who make you look and sound cool get jack. "I'm with the band" gets you everywhere and nowhere, at the same time. It's like the volunteers for SXSW suddenly have this responsibility, they get to play god with musicians.
This whole weekend has been craaaaaaazy. Touring with Trail of Dead, is a tough gig to begin with. Touring with Trail of Dead during South by South West is a gargantuan task. Down time is not really an option, and it's an endless cycle of load gear in, load gear out, find parking, get yelled at by cops and volunteers, run errands for the band, then load the gear out again, load the gear in again. Load the gear out, re-load the empty cases, then find parking, then set up gear. Tear down gear, find the van, park the van as close as possible, un-load the empty cases, fill the empty cases, re-load the van. Then drive to the next venue for the next show.
Last night trail of dead played a venue called emo's, at about 11pm. Load in was at about 6. Then we had to load out after the show, and get to a venue for the Spin Magazine, SXSW after party. At this point, everyone but a few of us were a little tipsy. Some were a little more hammered than tipsy. This made the load out process that much more fun. We ended up at the venue, and unloaded gear. TOD was supposed to go on at 2:30am. They were then pushed to 3am. They actually went on closer to 4am. Leaving plenty of time in the well stocked green room and the open bar party for more drinking.
Needless to say, the show was epic. Standing on drum kits, jumping into the crowd, broken glass, etc etc etc. We ended up loading out and getting home at around 5:30. I was asleep by 6.
SXSW is over, and today is the aftermath of that. I haven't had a drink since Vancouver and it's amazing. It's nice to be able to focus on learning and working in Rock and Roll, than living the Rock and Roll lifestyle.
At this point, i'm sleepy, and smelly and need a coffee and a shower. Probably about 18 more hours of sleep, but without a doubt, I learned SO much, and wouldn't give up this opportunity for the world. I love tour, I love Music, and I love being in the thick of it.
xo
America!! FUCK NO!
So. I just saw a clip that was seen on the American propaganda network known as FOX. It's a commentary on the recent announcement that the Canadian Military will have to take a break after pulling troops out of Afghanistan in 2011.
Not only mocking our military, Greg Gutfeld takes a rather gutless shot at the Lieutenant General, Andrew Leslie's, surname before diving in and suggesting that during the Operational break the Canadian Military will be "taking a breather, doing some Yoga," and "getting manicures." Additionally, Mr. Gutfeld consults "Doug" a rather ill-educated looking man, with a shit eating grin who continues to perpetuate stereotypes and emasculate our country.
To top this lovely piece of "Journalism" off, is Mr. Bill Schulz, who compares America's legitimate police officers with our mounties, citing the fact that their cops have armoured vests and camo, while our mounties have Bright red coats. America has armoured cars and Canada's RCMP ride horses, and finishing it off with this lovely quote. "This is not a smart culture Greg!"
Wow. I'd like to invite Mr. Schulz to come up north and arrange a little meeting with our "little red coat" wearing Law enforcement.
If this is the way the American news networks portray our country, it's no wonder the American people are so misinformed. Currently I'm in Texas, and you would be surprised how ignorant the people are to the culture of their lovely neighbours to the north. Citing us as the "Fifty first state" and believing we actually live in Igloos and eat whale blubber.
Fox news is not known for it's quality journalism, but i find this piece slanderous and highly offensive, and down right ignorant. Mr. Schulz, Mr. Gutfeld, please I'd love to arrange a meeting with you both and sort out this little misunderstanding about my nation, oh, but wait. My horse is getting re-shod, and my Dog-sled is in the shop.
Not only mocking our military, Greg Gutfeld takes a rather gutless shot at the Lieutenant General, Andrew Leslie's, surname before diving in and suggesting that during the Operational break the Canadian Military will be "taking a breather, doing some Yoga," and "getting manicures." Additionally, Mr. Gutfeld consults "Doug" a rather ill-educated looking man, with a shit eating grin who continues to perpetuate stereotypes and emasculate our country.
To top this lovely piece of "Journalism" off, is Mr. Bill Schulz, who compares America's legitimate police officers with our mounties, citing the fact that their cops have armoured vests and camo, while our mounties have Bright red coats. America has armoured cars and Canada's RCMP ride horses, and finishing it off with this lovely quote. "This is not a smart culture Greg!"
Wow. I'd like to invite Mr. Schulz to come up north and arrange a little meeting with our "little red coat" wearing Law enforcement.
If this is the way the American news networks portray our country, it's no wonder the American people are so misinformed. Currently I'm in Texas, and you would be surprised how ignorant the people are to the culture of their lovely neighbours to the north. Citing us as the "Fifty first state" and believing we actually live in Igloos and eat whale blubber.
Fox news is not known for it's quality journalism, but i find this piece slanderous and highly offensive, and down right ignorant. Mr. Schulz, Mr. Gutfeld, please I'd love to arrange a meeting with you both and sort out this little misunderstanding about my nation, oh, but wait. My horse is getting re-shod, and my Dog-sled is in the shop.
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