Travelling

All I have to say about Dunchurch is that it's a long long long way to drive. Thank goodness that the Budget rent-a-car had unlimited mileage on it because driving to Dunchurch on Friday and then driving back to Montreal via Toronto (to get Ms. Carotte's things) racked up 1600 km on the odometer.

It also satisfied any need on my part for long-distance travel for a good long while. I'm still craving a car though. The car I want doesn't even have to be as sporty as the Grand Am I rented for the weekend (although it was fun having the thing take off like a bat out of Lethbridge when I mashed the accelerator). Right now, I've got my eyes set on a Toyota Echo (hatchback) or a Ford Focus Wagon. I've always had a thing for the practicality of hatchbacks.

But the long and the short of it is that Ms. Carotte is pretty much settled into my pad. We've got a few more things to take care of to make her arrival official, but all in due time. After six years of living alone, having someone share my space is an adjustment, but so far, so good.

CD News: I spent more time in the studio than I expected, but the CD is almost done. Gern needs to make a few more tweaks and the CD will be ready to go. Click here to listen to a 25-second clip (mp3) of Jack Cures the Doctor (what I refer to as my Jim Carrey moment).

If anyone is interested in pre-ordering the Book/CD ($20), email me at womp@symatico.ca. I'll add you to the list and I'll make sure you get an autographed copy!

Shout-Out

Just a quick shout-out to Kristy who claims that I'm inspiring. Did ya hear that? I'm an inspiration to young Canadian women. Move over Roberta Bondar!

So Kristy has been busy. She's got a blog, a photo journal, and a bunch-o-photos over at Yahoo. Way to get linked girlfriend.

Oh but wait... I can't call Kristy by her real name, so I will be referring to her as Magaly from now on. Thanks for the all the nice complements Magaly.

I just got back from Northern Ontario with my Toronto Mail-Order girlfriend. She's made grilled cheese for me. Gotta run.

Tales from the Golden Gryphon

Last night, we had our first official WOMP night of storytelling since the Fringe: Tales from the Golden Gryphon. It was held at the Gryphon D'Or cafe on Monkland and there's another one tonight. The place is a bit small (holding only about 20 people), but it makes for an intimate space and it's very cozy. Perfect for storytelling.

For tonight, we've got 16 people reserved, so I'm hoping another 4 will turn up today (I always want a place to sell out). So far, the turn-out has been strong, so we're seriously considering turning it into a regular gig (like once a month).

But this show was designed to promote a much bigger event at the end of October that will span the three days of Halloween. Stay tuned for more information!

All this and the Book/CD is nearing completion. Very exciting times...

Cellular Ding-a-Ling

I wish I had a cellphone that supported this. Green Day has come out with their latest album (must add them to the list) and to promote it, they've come up with Green Day ringtones. But these ringtones are more talky than ringy.

In fact, I probably wouldn't answer the cellphone just to let the ring play itself out, especially if I'm on a crowded bus or metro. The thought of someone's cellphone saying "Hey! It's Responsibility over here! Pick up your fucking phone" makes me giggle like a school girl.

You can visit the Green Day website to hear the ringtones, but I warn you that when you load the page, it starts playing a preview of the ringtones right away and quite loudly too, so modulate your volume in response to it.

Blather, Blintz, Bleat

This must be a sign of getting older, but I get so impatient with people who do not speak in an efficient manner. Instead of thinking about what they want to say, they'll work it all out aloud, giving the rest of us an unwanted window into their thought processes. Then the point of whatever they're saying starts turning blue from lack of oxygen because it gets piled over prefaces, life examples, and disclaimers.

Says the guy who seems incapable of writing a short blog entry. I recognize it. Shut up.

I was at a meeting last night and there were a few people there who either didn't know how to cut to the chase or couldn't be bothered to. And me sitting quietly at my chair, eyes boring into the floor, my mind screaming "shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup" and "gettothepointgettothepointgettothepointgettothepointgettothepointgettothepoint."

Here's an example:

Question: So do you agree with Proposition A?

Answer: Well I don't know, y'know? But, like, it's kinda like this thing that happened last week when I was at school, whatever? There was, like, I don't know, a teacher? And he was, like talking to us and -- I don't know -- well, I started thing about, I don't know, life? And how big it was when you-- whatever. Anyways,I think it's a good idea, but I don't know, like whatever. But then there was this presentation on elephants, and like y'know, how they never forget? And I was thinking, yeah like, this is just so like Proposition A, but then again, I don't know-- whatever.

Argh! I think it's time I pick up one of those wooden canes so I can shake it like a Poloroid Picture at those kids breaking bottles on my street. I seem to be well on my way to brown pants, white sneakers, and bifocals galore.

Dinner Parties

Growing up in my parent's house, my folks loved to host a dinner with a few friends. My Dad had an extension to the table so that you could seat 8 around the table or if we had more, he'd get out the sheet of plywood (which would then seat 10). The kiddie table was always set in the laundry room.

My mum would spend the day cooking: groceries in the morning, bubbling pot lids in the afternoon, and the house would smell of roast beast. My Dad even used to make his own wine, so it would be La Cuvée Pops for the table wine (my Dad is the oldest of four kids, so they nicknamed him Pops).

The food was always perfect, the lights would be low, and the conversation was lively. By the time the tea/coffee arrived after dessert, we would all be stuffed.

So when I host a dinner party at my own house, I tend to go a little over the top. I keep wanting to recreate the mood that I grew accustomed to at family dinner table. So last night, I had a few close friends over for a sit-down roast beast meal. Everyone contributed something and we were all putting it together in the kitchen.

We all pulled up our chairs to the dinner table and we began to feast. It being Harvest time, we were all in the mood for a bountiful Harvest supper. And ye Gods, we weren't disappointed. The roast beast was juicy and flavourful, the mashed potatoes and the salad were delish, and the tea and dessert finished everything off nicely.

That was the closest I've ever come to recreating the dinner mood in my parent's house in the 15 years I've been away from home. I loved it.

Turning Points

• Last night's studio session was productive. The CD portion of the Book/CD is almost done. We'll be getting the First Draft of the Master CD on Monday. Oooooh.
  
  
• Fate has introduced me to a guy who might be able to get me a good price to put the Book/CD together. It's going to be expensive any way you cut it, but hopefully sales will be good. You'll buy one, won't you?
  
  
• This Sunday afternoon, I'll be doing my first solo performance at Band Camp. Ask me if I'm nervous or if I feel prepared.
  
  
• On September 27th, my life will be changing forever and definitely in a good way. Ms. Carotte will be sharing my living space. Prepare for oodles of lemon scones and couple stuff. That reminds me... I need to clean this place up.
  
  
• On September 29th, I'll be leading my first Men's Circle ritual. This is hopefully the first in a series of rituals being offered this year that will explore male spirituality and the male mystery. Ask me if I'm nervous.
  
  
• At the end of October (Halloween), the second installment of our storytelling festival will be taking place. Three days of storytelling, ending on Halloween night at Hurley's Pub. Stay tuned for more info.

In the midst of all this, I'm hoping to get a new client or contract. These months are going to be busy.

My Own Private Box

So last night, the Admiral invited me out to see some Avant-Garde theatre out in the Village. We went to see The Boxman at Station C. I hadn't been in the Village in years and it's always an experience.

When I first moved to Montreal, Aengus took me for a tour of the interesting places, including the Village, but he didn't tell me that at first. We were walking down Ste. Catherine street and I looked in the cafes and bars and I said "Wow... It's a slow in the bars. Not many women out tonight." THAT's when he decided to let me in on the secret.

Anyhoo, onto the play. The audience was let into a large room that had a set of cardboard box booths laid-out in a square and facing inwards. Each booth had its own chair, flashlight, water, facecloth, and toilet paper. The inside of the booth was decorated with a collage of pages from magazines and newspapers.

Then the play began... It's difficult to describe exactly what was going on. Because it's avant-garde, it doesn't follow and traditional rules of theatre. The best way I can describe it is that it's a series of loosely connected vignettes, centered around people who live in cardboard boxes and watch us live our lives.

Interesting idea, but the delivery was only so-so. Some of the actors need to learn how to project their voices because I missed most of what they were saying. Also, this play was over two hours in length with no intermission. That's a long time to stay focussed and in your seat.

Visually, the play was facinating: the visuals were strong and remarkable. It mixed recorded images and claymation with live stage performance. It was also fun to have the flashlights to throw extra light on what we wanted to see on the stage.

Before we went into the theatre, I was a bit apprehensive because I read the program and the director/writer's two-cents on the piece. It could be basically summed up as follows:

I don't write plays to entertain. We already have the Hollywood claptrap to stimulate our senses. I am an artist, I create. If you like what I've done, great. If you don't, great. Your approval or appreciation is not necessary or required. I am an artist and the my creation is the most important thing.

I'm torn on this isssue. On the one hand, I think it is important for artists to push the boundaries and be innovative, but not at the expense of their audience. If I go see a play about urban life and it's two hours of hookers flinging Kraft cheese slices at a photograph of Mr. Bush doing the cha-cha with Jean Chretien, I can't say my time/money has been well spent.

The writer/director may want to call it Art, but where's the consideration for his audience? Challenge your audience, yes, but don't leave them in dark, bound and helpless. You're not doing anyone any favours except indulging your own dark fantasies. Art can be therapeutic, but it shouldn't be a replacement for therapy.

Again, don't get me wrong: I think it is important to challenge the audience, but it's important to strike a balance between taking your audience to a new place while giving them something they can digest.

To do otherwise is lazy, self-indulgent, and does more to hurt the Art than to bring it to the next stage of evolution.

Circular Answers

During a touring show of Sleeping Beauty, I was armed with a video camera and turned to T! to ask him what he thought of working with such consumate professionals. The answer was as sarcastic as the question.

T! turned to me and gave me his answer using the same words I used in the question, but in various positions and juxtapositions.

Watching this video clip of Mr. Bush trying to stumble his way through an explanation reminded me of that (although T! was much more eloquent).

Sometimes it's just better to say "I don't understand your question" or even simpler "I don't know the answer to that".

Canada Rocks

Team Canada beat Finland last night 3 to 2 in the World Cup of Hockey. All the goals were solid except for one (it dribbled through an opening and into the goal (more luck than anything)). I was down at the Old Orchard watching the game, but I couldn't convince any of my cronies to come with.

When Team Canada won gold at the last Winter Olympics, we got a gang together and watched the game at the Cage au Sports in the Bell Forum. The place was packed and the cheers were deafening. After the game, the streets were overrun with celebrating fans. It was great.

I guess World Cup just doesn't have the same weight. The streets were quiet in NDG after the game, although I heard a few people saying that there were huge celebrations in town. I hope they didn't get out of hand.