IPOD
RADIO
The Burbs....
visiting the family....As It 's way out in the boonies I bring laundry still. Yeah, I guess it's funny being a 40 year old who still takes laundry home to the parental unit. But the little warehouse space I live in does have those facilities. And, it gives me something to do while stuck out there.
I arrived early while my parents were still out getting their cars tuned up. Why two retired people need separate cars is anyones guess. Mind you their post tax income after all the stocks and retirement check is still larger than my last gross. This year might be different - who knows.
As I was all the way out there with no key to the place, I went for a drive around the old neighborhood. Not where my parents live now, but south langley, closer to the US border. It's been years since I drove up thru Brookswood. The last time must have been right after college. Going to visit old teachers back at my old elementary school.
Around were we all used to live. The one subtle thing I noticed was all the trees. Most are still there, but they're fatter and shorter than I remember. All the suburban front lawns were very much the same as I remember them. But. flatter, more manicured. Like time and repetitive lawn mowing had pressed down the soil. The color of the trees seemed muted. Like my memory of that place is encapsulated in a summers day. Or my eyes are old and I can't recognize the colors of my youth. I wish I'd taken a real camera, and taken a photo. to see if that unblinking eye could see it better.
What wasn't subtle was all the new strip malls. tones of little tiny trailer trash one block strip malls. everywhere I looked on the main drag. With Starbucks stores every few blocks. I ventured into one looking for somewhere to get my bearings. As this was all new to me. The store clerks were very nice, they gave me a free cup of coffee for waiting patiently while an elderly lady figured out what she wanted. While a young lady chatted me up about my RENT jacket. Maybe I should go out to the burbs to meet women.
When I did find my way back to the new homestead. Had dinner and saw my niece's new grad party dress while waiting for my laundry to dry. But, the dryer was on half strength. So to kill more time My parents and I with my niece, Heather in tow. Went to the local Walmart. Which, thankfully doesn't exist downtown.
I couldn't get over how huge the place really was. I'd heard they were huge but it never dawned on me that some are as big as a large village centre. We all got lost in the store and had to call each other, to figure out everyones 20, before we left. I hung out with my niece and bought makeup for her. And told her of what been going down with my brother Andrew and his impending separation from Shirley. She thinks Andrews being an Asshat, cause she loves Shirley and thinks she's cool. So do I, and I told her that Shirley would still be welcome to join me when I went out to see the family.
After that little sojourn into mass retail. I went back to my parents place and collected my finally dry laundry. Where, upon leaving, I was asked my niece if I would boot booze for her. If she was down town were I was to look after her I might have obliged. But, leaving her to a bottle of booze with her friends. I had to say no and be the asshole uncle. I hope she forgives me.
visiting the family....As It 's way out in the boonies I bring laundry still. Yeah, I guess it's funny being a 40 year old who still takes laundry home to the parental unit. But the little warehouse space I live in does have those facilities. And, it gives me something to do while stuck out there.
I arrived early while my parents were still out getting their cars tuned up. Why two retired people need separate cars is anyones guess. Mind you their post tax income after all the stocks and retirement check is still larger than my last gross. This year might be different - who knows.
As I was all the way out there with no key to the place, I went for a drive around the old neighborhood. Not where my parents live now, but south langley, closer to the US border. It's been years since I drove up thru Brookswood. The last time must have been right after college. Going to visit old teachers back at my old elementary school.
Around were we all used to live. The one subtle thing I noticed was all the trees. Most are still there, but they're fatter and shorter than I remember. All the suburban front lawns were very much the same as I remember them. But. flatter, more manicured. Like time and repetitive lawn mowing had pressed down the soil. The color of the trees seemed muted. Like my memory of that place is encapsulated in a summers day. Or my eyes are old and I can't recognize the colors of my youth. I wish I'd taken a real camera, and taken a photo. to see if that unblinking eye could see it better.
What wasn't subtle was all the new strip malls. tones of little tiny trailer trash one block strip malls. everywhere I looked on the main drag. With Starbucks stores every few blocks. I ventured into one looking for somewhere to get my bearings. As this was all new to me. The store clerks were very nice, they gave me a free cup of coffee for waiting patiently while an elderly lady figured out what she wanted. While a young lady chatted me up about my RENT jacket. Maybe I should go out to the burbs to meet women.
When I did find my way back to the new homestead. Had dinner and saw my niece's new grad party dress while waiting for my laundry to dry. But, the dryer was on half strength. So to kill more time My parents and I with my niece, Heather in tow. Went to the local Walmart. Which, thankfully doesn't exist downtown.
I couldn't get over how huge the place really was. I'd heard they were huge but it never dawned on me that some are as big as a large village centre. We all got lost in the store and had to call each other, to figure out everyones 20, before we left. I hung out with my niece and bought makeup for her. And told her of what been going down with my brother Andrew and his impending separation from Shirley. She thinks Andrews being an Asshat, cause she loves Shirley and thinks she's cool. So do I, and I told her that Shirley would still be welcome to join me when I went out to see the family.
After that little sojourn into mass retail. I went back to my parents place and collected my finally dry laundry. Where, upon leaving, I was asked my niece if I would boot booze for her. If she was down town were I was to look after her I might have obliged. But, leaving her to a bottle of booze with her friends. I had to say no and be the asshole uncle. I hope she forgives me.
Funny....
How a tribute to The Nice Guy turned into how one finds one. Or how a Nice Guy finds a way out of this predicament of finishing last ( if he ever finishes at all... I mean we are nice guys in bed as well. ) And then proceeds along to the usual......
Why can't Nice Guys and Nice Girls hook up?
You know... leave the asshole guys and Girls With A Problem to one side for a change and flirt with your same? Well, we see too much of themselves in each other. And often think that that person already has their shit together and doesn't need out help and conversely, Us.
Most Nice Guys and Nice Girls were brought up to be the hero. Learning early ( very early ) that to be loved came from doing for others. Not just being - Being good, being polite, being solid, being open, being strong, being reliable, being sexual etc, etc, etc.
Instead we DO all of that for others and hope - Nay - Prey for a return. And when we meet an attractive, capable person ( Male or Female - choose your Nice Person ) we think that person is too busy doing effective things. There tends to be no connection. We're both too busy; doing the right thing, listening to someone else problems, keeping our families from shooting each other. Interceding on someone else's behalf. Keeping counsel, cleaning up someone else's mess.. etc.etc. All while organizing a group trip to Burning Man for all the lazy people in the group who have gotten used to you doing all of that and being happy that way.
Because we feel, we NEED ( Asshat boys or Girls With A Problem ) to fix. In my case ... How else is that hot, bi polar, gothy girl, with scars on her arms at the gigs I work. And a slew of asshat ex boyfriends in her wake, is ever going to realize how awesome I am?
The same predicament is true for Nice Girls as well. ( Just swap the genders in the above example if your straight ) to understand where I'm going with this....
So, why do we feel we NEED to do for thease people? Because we are just as fucked up as the Asshat Boys and Girls With A Problem. Our low reason for being has made us do for them in hopes of recognition of self. Because we can't automatically see it in our selves. Realize what we are worth. See that in others. And go over and say, Hi!!!
This really explains how women end up dating asshats. Asshat guys have a complete assuredness of self. Far beyond they're actual, real self . ( I.E. - "That threatening their last GF with a kitchen knife was a one time thing - and it was her fault anyways" ) So they say Hi. Act witty , sexy, and interested. But, don't have that desperation edge. They're cool. They did the same act with a girl last week in the very same bar stool your sitting in and got some action. Why? cause she was a nice girl... looking for sex, and hoping for love.
How do we all opt out? Trust ourselves. See our real worth. Grab some courage. Say hi. Be real and interesting. Understand and trust we can actually be sexy. And really listen to the other. If she starts to blurt out her past crazy history and turns out to be a girl with a problem. Remember, she probably has a Nice Girl best friend. Who wishes you were acting all cool and sexy with her.....
How a tribute to The Nice Guy turned into how one finds one. Or how a Nice Guy finds a way out of this predicament of finishing last ( if he ever finishes at all... I mean we are nice guys in bed as well. ) And then proceeds along to the usual......
Why can't Nice Guys and Nice Girls hook up?
You know... leave the asshole guys and Girls With A Problem to one side for a change and flirt with your same? Well, we see too much of themselves in each other. And often think that that person already has their shit together and doesn't need out help and conversely, Us.
Most Nice Guys and Nice Girls were brought up to be the hero. Learning early ( very early ) that to be loved came from doing for others. Not just being - Being good, being polite, being solid, being open, being strong, being reliable, being sexual etc, etc, etc.
Instead we DO all of that for others and hope - Nay - Prey for a return. And when we meet an attractive, capable person ( Male or Female - choose your Nice Person ) we think that person is too busy doing effective things. There tends to be no connection. We're both too busy; doing the right thing, listening to someone else problems, keeping our families from shooting each other. Interceding on someone else's behalf. Keeping counsel, cleaning up someone else's mess.. etc.etc. All while organizing a group trip to Burning Man for all the lazy people in the group who have gotten used to you doing all of that and being happy that way.
Because we feel, we NEED ( Asshat boys or Girls With A Problem ) to fix. In my case ... How else is that hot, bi polar, gothy girl, with scars on her arms at the gigs I work. And a slew of asshat ex boyfriends in her wake, is ever going to realize how awesome I am?
The same predicament is true for Nice Girls as well. ( Just swap the genders in the above example if your straight ) to understand where I'm going with this....
So, why do we feel we NEED to do for thease people? Because we are just as fucked up as the Asshat Boys and Girls With A Problem. Our low reason for being has made us do for them in hopes of recognition of self. Because we can't automatically see it in our selves. Realize what we are worth. See that in others. And go over and say, Hi!!!
This really explains how women end up dating asshats. Asshat guys have a complete assuredness of self. Far beyond they're actual, real self . ( I.E. - "That threatening their last GF with a kitchen knife was a one time thing - and it was her fault anyways" ) So they say Hi. Act witty , sexy, and interested. But, don't have that desperation edge. They're cool. They did the same act with a girl last week in the very same bar stool your sitting in and got some action. Why? cause she was a nice girl... looking for sex, and hoping for love.
How do we all opt out? Trust ourselves. See our real worth. Grab some courage. Say hi. Be real and interesting. Understand and trust we can actually be sexy. And really listen to the other. If she starts to blurt out her past crazy history and turns out to be a girl with a problem. Remember, she probably has a Nice Girl best friend. Who wishes you were acting all cool and sexy with her.....
Funny....
How a tribute to The Nice Guy turned into how one finds one. Or how a Nice Guy finds a way out of this predicament of finishing last ( if he ever finishes at all... I mean we are nice guys in bed as well. ) And then proceeds along to the usual......
Why can't Nice Guys and Nice Girls hook up?
You know... leave the asshole guys and Girls With A Problem to one side for a change and flirt with your same? Well, we see too much of themselves in each other. And often think that that person already has their shit together and doesn't need out help and conversely, Us.
Most Nice Guys and Nice Girls were brought up to be the hero. Learning early ( very early ) that to be loved came from doing for others. Not just being - Being good, being polite, being solid, being open, being strong, being reliable, being sexual etc, etc, etc.
Instead we DO all of that for others and hope - Nay - Prey for a return. And when we meet an attractive, capable person ( Male or Female - choose your Nice Person ) we think that person is too busy doing effective things. There tends to be no connection. We're both too busy; doing the right thing, listening to someone else problems, keeping our families from shooting each other. Interceding on someone else's behalf. Keeping counsel, cleaning up someone else's mess.. etc.etc. All while organizing a group trip to Burning Man for all the lazy people in the group who have gotten used to you doing all of that and being happy that way.
Because we feel, we NEED ( Asshat boys or Girls With A Problem ) to fix. In my case ... How else is that hot, bi polar, gothy girl, with scars on her arms at the gigs I work. And a slew of asshat ex boyfriends in her wake, is ever going to realize how awesome I am?
The same predicament is true for Nice Girls as well. ( Just swap the genders in the above example if your straight ) to understand where I'm going with this....
So, why do we feel we NEED to do for thease people? Because we are just as fucked up as the Asshat Boys and Girls With A Problem. Our low reason for being has made us do for them in hopes of recognition of self. Because we can't automatically see it in our selves. Realize what we are worth. See that in others. And go over and say, Hi!!!
This really explains how women end up dating asshats. Asshat guys have a complete assuredness of self. Far beyond they're actual, real self . ( I.E. - "That threatening their last GF with a kitchen knife was a one time thing - and it was her fault anyways" ) So they say Hi. Act witty , sexy, and interested. But, don't have that desperation edge. They're cool. They did the same act with a girl last week in the very same bar stool your sitting in and got some action. Why? cause she was a nice girl... looking for sex, and hoping for love.
How do we all opt out? Trust ourselves. See our real worth. Grab some courage. Say hi. Be real and interesting. Understand and trust we can actually be sexy. And really listen to the other. If she starts to blurt out her past crazy history and turns out to be a girl with a problem. Remember, she probably has a Nice Girl best friend. Who wishes you were acting all cool and sexy with her.....
How a tribute to The Nice Guy turned into how one finds one. Or how a Nice Guy finds a way out of this predicament of finishing last ( if he ever finishes at all... I mean we are nice guys in bed as well. ) And then proceeds along to the usual......
Why can't Nice Guys and Nice Girls hook up?
You know... leave the asshole guys and Girls With A Problem to one side for a change and flirt with your same? Well, we see too much of themselves in each other. And often think that that person already has their shit together and doesn't need out help and conversely, Us.
Most Nice Guys and Nice Girls were brought up to be the hero. Learning early ( very early ) that to be loved came from doing for others. Not just being - Being good, being polite, being solid, being open, being strong, being reliable, being sexual etc, etc, etc.
Instead we DO all of that for others and hope - Nay - Prey for a return. And when we meet an attractive, capable person ( Male or Female - choose your Nice Person ) we think that person is too busy doing effective things. There tends to be no connection. We're both too busy; doing the right thing, listening to someone else problems, keeping our families from shooting each other. Interceding on someone else's behalf. Keeping counsel, cleaning up someone else's mess.. etc.etc. All while organizing a group trip to Burning Man for all the lazy people in the group who have gotten used to you doing all of that and being happy that way.
Because we feel, we NEED ( Asshat boys or Girls With A Problem ) to fix. In my case ... How else is that hot, bi polar, gothy girl, with scars on her arms at the gigs I work. And a slew of asshat ex boyfriends in her wake, is ever going to realize how awesome I am?
The same predicament is true for Nice Girls as well. ( Just swap the genders in the above example if your straight ) to understand where I'm going with this....
So, why do we feel we NEED to do for thease people? Because we are just as fucked up as the Asshat Boys and Girls With A Problem. Our low reason for being has made us do for them in hopes of recognition of self. Because we can't automatically see it in our selves. Realize what we are worth. See that in others. And go over and say, Hi!!!
This really explains how women end up dating asshats. Asshat guys have a complete assuredness of self. Far beyond they're actual, real self . ( I.E. - "That threatening their last GF with a kitchen knife was a one time thing - and it was her fault anyways" ) So they say Hi. Act witty , sexy, and interested. But, don't have that desperation edge. They're cool. They did the same act with a girl last week in the very same bar stool your sitting in and got some action. Why? cause she was a nice girl... looking for sex, and hoping for love.
How do we all opt out? Trust ourselves. See our real worth. Grab some courage. Say hi. Be real and interesting. Understand and trust we can actually be sexy. And really listen to the other. If she starts to blurt out her past crazy history and turns out to be a girl with a problem. Remember, she probably has a Nice Girl best friend. Who wishes you were acting all cool and sexy with her.....
Fidelio
" Anybody who gets to know me... Becomes my admirers or my enemies......owwhoo...."
Bouncing around again. At the Orpheum for a film shoot. Just a fill in day call on that resurrected Heath Ledger film. Collin Feral was there. He smokes alot. I mean what else would an actor do? all that standing around waiting for all these expensive multi-million dollar takes to be set up. I don't like film these days in town there's a pirate like desperation to the crews. As if the industry will collapse at any moment. They're all hungry now. Nothing like 2004.
I'm glad I didn't trade in my 118 card for an 891 card. They don't even have seniority in their local anymore. It's nice to know where your work lies. Mind you, seniority has it's down sides too. All this last week was electrics calls for the Opera, Fidelio. - with the occasional perk though - ( Focusing lights for this extremely cute petite lighting designer from New Jersey. A self confirmed Obsessive compulsive one at that that... Ah... My favorite type of girl. There's something really hot about a smart/ hot / geeky woman who loves lighting. God must make more of them fast...cause I'm a lonely stage electrician. )
I'm really good at two things in theatre. Focusing lighting instruments.. and running follow-spots. Seriously, they want me to focus every light in the damn building. I'm good due to all the boson chair focusing that I've done at ACT over the last 20 years. And I'm no nonsense. I work like a tactical team. I just take over and order all the old guys around.
So much so that the Production electrician kept other senior guys on the books the last few weeks, as lift ballast. So that they could keep me on . And keep me up in the bucket focusing for Noelle. That's a great nod.
I can't stand standing at the bottom of a lift acting as ballast. And it took years before they got the old guys out of the way, and I got to get some action in the cherry picker. Really it's fun. And time goes by so quickly up in the grid pointing lights at a pretty lady. The plus is.... during coffee I can flirt with her with easy. Because over the course of the few days of focusing. And my ability to prefocus alot of the area lighting before she got back to me in the lift. Noelle realized a sympatico thing.
Nothing happened. But, it's just nice to so easily get a rapport with a woman. Especially after usually feeling so geeky and awkward around artsy women in general. They don't get me as an artsy person as my job is usually so blue collar like in comparison. And I'm not the big bread winner 9-5 'er that they can impress, and score as a sugar daddy. So, it's hard to thrill or even interest an artsy girl for me. And to have that automatic respect and connection happen is just so rewarding. regardless of the job flirting.
" Anybody who gets to know me... Becomes my admirers or my enemies......owwhoo...."
Bouncing around again. At the Orpheum for a film shoot. Just a fill in day call on that resurrected Heath Ledger film. Collin Feral was there. He smokes alot. I mean what else would an actor do? all that standing around waiting for all these expensive multi-million dollar takes to be set up. I don't like film these days in town there's a pirate like desperation to the crews. As if the industry will collapse at any moment. They're all hungry now. Nothing like 2004.
I'm glad I didn't trade in my 118 card for an 891 card. They don't even have seniority in their local anymore. It's nice to know where your work lies. Mind you, seniority has it's down sides too. All this last week was electrics calls for the Opera, Fidelio. - with the occasional perk though - ( Focusing lights for this extremely cute petite lighting designer from New Jersey. A self confirmed Obsessive compulsive one at that that... Ah... My favorite type of girl. There's something really hot about a smart/ hot / geeky woman who loves lighting. God must make more of them fast...cause I'm a lonely stage electrician. )
I'm really good at two things in theatre. Focusing lighting instruments.. and running follow-spots. Seriously, they want me to focus every light in the damn building. I'm good due to all the boson chair focusing that I've done at ACT over the last 20 years. And I'm no nonsense. I work like a tactical team. I just take over and order all the old guys around.
So much so that the Production electrician kept other senior guys on the books the last few weeks, as lift ballast. So that they could keep me on . And keep me up in the bucket focusing for Noelle. That's a great nod.
I can't stand standing at the bottom of a lift acting as ballast. And it took years before they got the old guys out of the way, and I got to get some action in the cherry picker. Really it's fun. And time goes by so quickly up in the grid pointing lights at a pretty lady. The plus is.... during coffee I can flirt with her with easy. Because over the course of the few days of focusing. And my ability to prefocus alot of the area lighting before she got back to me in the lift. Noelle realized a sympatico thing.
Nothing happened. But, it's just nice to so easily get a rapport with a woman. Especially after usually feeling so geeky and awkward around artsy women in general. They don't get me as an artsy person as my job is usually so blue collar like in comparison. And I'm not the big bread winner 9-5 'er that they can impress, and score as a sugar daddy. So, it's hard to thrill or even interest an artsy girl for me. And to have that automatic respect and connection happen is just so rewarding. regardless of the job flirting.
Christian Time....
Evangelical events....
They 're really different. The show ( i really don't like calling it that... out of respect, even if that respect feels misguided. - I have nothing against people having a particular faith. It's the people who sort of pray on that faith to provide the answers. But, to mostly ask for money while attempting to push away doubt. And to me, Doubt and Faith are the two pillars of any religion. Really It's the heavy handed proselytizing that creeps me out. When I know my God has no use for a buck. )
The events come mostly from the southern states. fully stocked with lights, staging, camera platforms, video walls etc.. So it feels like a show. Like a kinder gentler WWF wrestling show with out the body wrestling. Only spiritual wrestling. And the crews have that sort of kinder gentler roadie feel to them. Great... nice to work with. And they're happy to work with us, as in other places they go down south. Those full size coliseum style churches filled with volunteers to set up their events. Versus us who sort of get it. The gear all seemed the same... New but cheap. the lights felt "really" lite. Like they would crush like Coors lite beer cans if you held them tightly. The big concerns of the organizers where the ads around the stadium. They were fine as long as they didn't promote beer or sex.
I didn't realize that the "event" would draw 5 thousand people for a two day feel good symposium with God, Jesus and you. The attendees, who were lined up outside the venue where 90 percent women. Smack dab in the middle of the baby making years. Many were actually very fit, trim and quite physically attractive. Most were obviously married. driving into the parking lot in pristine cars. A lot of them cute little VW Bugs ( the new type )
I'd expected a parking lot ful of SUV's but i gues even christians are into saving a buck or two on gas and saving the enviroment. Cause rapture doesn't seem to be happening any time soon.
" Off in the families second car, out to the big city to see their favorite, over shellacked lady minister. Who did her best christian take on a white Oprah / Straight Ellen style: Engage excitedly with your audience like you weren't expecting them to even come to your multi-million dollar TV show LIVE! Event. That Christian programming one. The strangely kinda feels like that secular one that sometimes showers new cars on the entire audience. Here, the ministry was showering love and understanding on these women's sense of well... what ever got them down and made them pay and pray to be preached to.
It wasn't all bad TV evangelism. Some of the stuff she was speaking about made sense. Letting go of others with addictions and giving them to god to worry about. But, at times. Especially during the video talk segways. Which featured women on what i guess was her prayer chat show, back in the states. It had a sort of creepy parallel universe feel to me at times. It looked so much like I was watching segments of The View but everything had this sort of everything leads to the lord connection response that made it feel like I was watching Christian propaganda. The pretty attractive women in the crowd tended to nod knowingly at the videos and the Preacher lady. The more "Robust and Rubenlike women tended to be the hold your hands up and pray along. Or hug and shake to music. They often seemed to be in prayer teams. Each with silly sort of matching shirts or last minute costume's. And they seemed to gather together like wise. The hottie Christian women in pockets and the not hot geeky ones in others. It reminded me of high-school assembly.
If they, the pretty ladies in the audience weren't all bible thumpers. I would have been quite turned around. Many looked like cute elementary school teachers and librarians. Which for me elementary school teachers are quite hot. And Librarians... well they've always been. It's that bird like athletic primness to many of them. As if their workouts in the gym where theme music'd by some tight Christian Enya - sound alike, played quietly on they're ipods while their bodies never really broke a sweat. Refused to even glow, for fear of even a hint of possible temptation. the lack of outward sexiness actually can foster complete fetishism. It's that thought of what naughty ideas might foster in the smart brains. Behind those prim glasses and restrictive clothing.
Mind you I'm single and 40...anything is sexy.
The hot Christian ladies were very clean and well scrubbed. with perfectly applied mac cosmetic faces. Very much like the the preacher lady on stage. Nothing like the stereo typical bible thumping, trailer trash, menopausal lumps of over brooding women, and geeky christian girls. Who grouped themselves for super long hugs during the sacrament. Sad that their lives have wasted away in some dirt water town where the husband's mill has closed eons ago. And real job along with it. And even the kids are gone, or are planing to escape to LA or Las Vegas to make it big on either reality TV or the casino circuit. And they can't quit binge eating, smoking or drinking themselves to meet the lord one day.
I still didn't think there were that many bible thumpers in town to do a two day coliseum event in Vancouver. And I think I was right. As I left the venue, I noticed car after car ( Or rather big truck after big sedan... ) had Washington State plates..
Evangelical events....
They 're really different. The show ( i really don't like calling it that... out of respect, even if that respect feels misguided. - I have nothing against people having a particular faith. It's the people who sort of pray on that faith to provide the answers. But, to mostly ask for money while attempting to push away doubt. And to me, Doubt and Faith are the two pillars of any religion. Really It's the heavy handed proselytizing that creeps me out. When I know my God has no use for a buck. )
The events come mostly from the southern states. fully stocked with lights, staging, camera platforms, video walls etc.. So it feels like a show. Like a kinder gentler WWF wrestling show with out the body wrestling. Only spiritual wrestling. And the crews have that sort of kinder gentler roadie feel to them. Great... nice to work with. And they're happy to work with us, as in other places they go down south. Those full size coliseum style churches filled with volunteers to set up their events. Versus us who sort of get it. The gear all seemed the same... New but cheap. the lights felt "really" lite. Like they would crush like Coors lite beer cans if you held them tightly. The big concerns of the organizers where the ads around the stadium. They were fine as long as they didn't promote beer or sex.
I didn't realize that the "event" would draw 5 thousand people for a two day feel good symposium with God, Jesus and you. The attendees, who were lined up outside the venue where 90 percent women. Smack dab in the middle of the baby making years. Many were actually very fit, trim and quite physically attractive. Most were obviously married. driving into the parking lot in pristine cars. A lot of them cute little VW Bugs ( the new type )
I'd expected a parking lot ful of SUV's but i gues even christians are into saving a buck or two on gas and saving the enviroment. Cause rapture doesn't seem to be happening any time soon.
" Off in the families second car, out to the big city to see their favorite, over shellacked lady minister. Who did her best christian take on a white Oprah / Straight Ellen style: Engage excitedly with your audience like you weren't expecting them to even come to your multi-million dollar TV show LIVE! Event. That Christian programming one. The strangely kinda feels like that secular one that sometimes showers new cars on the entire audience. Here, the ministry was showering love and understanding on these women's sense of well... what ever got them down and made them pay and pray to be preached to.
It wasn't all bad TV evangelism. Some of the stuff she was speaking about made sense. Letting go of others with addictions and giving them to god to worry about. But, at times. Especially during the video talk segways. Which featured women on what i guess was her prayer chat show, back in the states. It had a sort of creepy parallel universe feel to me at times. It looked so much like I was watching segments of The View but everything had this sort of everything leads to the lord connection response that made it feel like I was watching Christian propaganda. The pretty attractive women in the crowd tended to nod knowingly at the videos and the Preacher lady. The more "Robust and Rubenlike women tended to be the hold your hands up and pray along. Or hug and shake to music. They often seemed to be in prayer teams. Each with silly sort of matching shirts or last minute costume's. And they seemed to gather together like wise. The hottie Christian women in pockets and the not hot geeky ones in others. It reminded me of high-school assembly.
If they, the pretty ladies in the audience weren't all bible thumpers. I would have been quite turned around. Many looked like cute elementary school teachers and librarians. Which for me elementary school teachers are quite hot. And Librarians... well they've always been. It's that bird like athletic primness to many of them. As if their workouts in the gym where theme music'd by some tight Christian Enya - sound alike, played quietly on they're ipods while their bodies never really broke a sweat. Refused to even glow, for fear of even a hint of possible temptation. the lack of outward sexiness actually can foster complete fetishism. It's that thought of what naughty ideas might foster in the smart brains. Behind those prim glasses and restrictive clothing.
Mind you I'm single and 40...anything is sexy.
The hot Christian ladies were very clean and well scrubbed. with perfectly applied mac cosmetic faces. Very much like the the preacher lady on stage. Nothing like the stereo typical bible thumping, trailer trash, menopausal lumps of over brooding women, and geeky christian girls. Who grouped themselves for super long hugs during the sacrament. Sad that their lives have wasted away in some dirt water town where the husband's mill has closed eons ago. And real job along with it. And even the kids are gone, or are planing to escape to LA or Las Vegas to make it big on either reality TV or the casino circuit. And they can't quit binge eating, smoking or drinking themselves to meet the lord one day.
I still didn't think there were that many bible thumpers in town to do a two day coliseum event in Vancouver. And I think I was right. As I left the venue, I noticed car after car ( Or rather big truck after big sedan... ) had Washington State plates..
Say Anything.....
As it's a slow Saturday...
I tried to go out. But, Doug's death really cooled me to interaction. Of course, Ironies of Ironies... Not only was a woman at the bar obviously checking me out ( And she was not only cute, but the Violin player of one of the opening acts...) And waited twice for me to say something.... Say Anything. People I nod to from Sanctuary were there. And I hate feeling like one of those people who talk to others in that particular nightclub but not anywhere else. A woman I've chatted with over nerve.com was there. And even more Ironically, she knows Ruby-Sparkle... A Pretty red head here on Suicidegirls.com.
Who I've been replying to for, well, years ( Ruby hasn't updated as of late...)
But, I still wish I could have stopped falling into my shell for at least one of the people I really could have met. ( for real... Really interacted with.... not just in cyber space where interaction is like dropping bombs from a mile overhead. Where morality and/or safety of distance plays like bar-star courage)
I was just not interested in talking to people about... well.... I wasn't into small talk. The last thing I want everyone who's just met me, for real. Was to hear about a friend who collapsed at The VECC and never regained consciousness. Who they didn't know and don't know what to say in response to.
And then I started thinking about how we all are dealing. Or rather how we as theatre vampire workaholics really aren't. Ed at the Stanley wants to go to Doug's wake but the next production is hanging it's lights that weekend. And I'm guessing the TD there won't let Ed take it off. ( Sometimes I hate that " Show much go on mentality " let him go to the wake and get a crew chief or the Rentals guy to fill in...) Or, Ed should just say it's important that I be there. I have to bail. But, Ed like me is a trooper. And he'll cave. I mean, Doug worked at ACT for years. And he really helped Ed with all the sound bullshit at GI when they expected him to be the two-fisting lighting / sound board op. Cause they wanted to go cheap. And doug always helped out and then left Ed to it. unlike others who wouldn't care and just sabotage the show to prove a point. But, Doug was one of us a trooper. He didn't work for ACT....He worked for the show or the bands, or the other guy in the booth.
Doug was like that everywhere. At ACT, or even downtown at the civics. Department central. where there's more than enough guys in each crew to make it happen. He'd always drop some sound cables to help a struggling carpenter or electrician. The good ones leave too early. And they leave us a little empty. And a bit afraid.
Sure he had bad habits.... Smoking and swearing ( But, I NEVER heard him swear around kids...) And, man he could talk you under the table... he'd talk and talk all day about stuff. It was like he had no internal edit button. I wasn't mean but he'd go on and on. It's a sound man's disease. That's their favorite sound. The sound of his own voice. Doug had an opinion on almost everything. and it was often punctuated with curse words. He's use curse words as verbs, nouns adjectives and homonyms. And he'd make you laugh... he'd always come up with a topper. One killer way to explain something or describe someone that would almost make you piss yourself laughing. It wasn't that drone on and on about the same thing. He'd mix it up like a George Carlin routine.
Doug was great guy. Entertaining, fun and a hard worker and we're all going to miss him. And the best we can to is stay out there. Never fall into ourselves. And keeping thinking of him every now and then. So he's never really gone. Just quiet for now....
Doug.. I own you a toast....And a chat up with a girl.
As it's a slow Saturday...
I tried to go out. But, Doug's death really cooled me to interaction. Of course, Ironies of Ironies... Not only was a woman at the bar obviously checking me out ( And she was not only cute, but the Violin player of one of the opening acts...) And waited twice for me to say something.... Say Anything. People I nod to from Sanctuary were there. And I hate feeling like one of those people who talk to others in that particular nightclub but not anywhere else. A woman I've chatted with over nerve.com was there. And even more Ironically, she knows Ruby-Sparkle... A Pretty red head here on Suicidegirls.com.
Who I've been replying to for, well, years ( Ruby hasn't updated as of late...)
But, I still wish I could have stopped falling into my shell for at least one of the people I really could have met. ( for real... Really interacted with.... not just in cyber space where interaction is like dropping bombs from a mile overhead. Where morality and/or safety of distance plays like bar-star courage)
I was just not interested in talking to people about... well.... I wasn't into small talk. The last thing I want everyone who's just met me, for real. Was to hear about a friend who collapsed at The VECC and never regained consciousness. Who they didn't know and don't know what to say in response to.
And then I started thinking about how we all are dealing. Or rather how we as theatre vampire workaholics really aren't. Ed at the Stanley wants to go to Doug's wake but the next production is hanging it's lights that weekend. And I'm guessing the TD there won't let Ed take it off. ( Sometimes I hate that " Show much go on mentality " let him go to the wake and get a crew chief or the Rentals guy to fill in...) Or, Ed should just say it's important that I be there. I have to bail. But, Ed like me is a trooper. And he'll cave. I mean, Doug worked at ACT for years. And he really helped Ed with all the sound bullshit at GI when they expected him to be the two-fisting lighting / sound board op. Cause they wanted to go cheap. And doug always helped out and then left Ed to it. unlike others who wouldn't care and just sabotage the show to prove a point. But, Doug was one of us a trooper. He didn't work for ACT....He worked for the show or the bands, or the other guy in the booth.
Doug was like that everywhere. At ACT, or even downtown at the civics. Department central. where there's more than enough guys in each crew to make it happen. He'd always drop some sound cables to help a struggling carpenter or electrician. The good ones leave too early. And they leave us a little empty. And a bit afraid.
Sure he had bad habits.... Smoking and swearing ( But, I NEVER heard him swear around kids...) And, man he could talk you under the table... he'd talk and talk all day about stuff. It was like he had no internal edit button. I wasn't mean but he'd go on and on. It's a sound man's disease. That's their favorite sound. The sound of his own voice. Doug had an opinion on almost everything. and it was often punctuated with curse words. He's use curse words as verbs, nouns adjectives and homonyms. And he'd make you laugh... he'd always come up with a topper. One killer way to explain something or describe someone that would almost make you piss yourself laughing. It wasn't that drone on and on about the same thing. He'd mix it up like a George Carlin routine.
Doug was great guy. Entertaining, fun and a hard worker and we're all going to miss him. And the best we can to is stay out there. Never fall into ourselves. And keeping thinking of him every now and then. So he's never really gone. Just quiet for now....
Doug.. I own you a toast....And a chat up with a girl.
A Tale Of 2 Rock Shows...And Doug Mckinnon
It's been busy of late....
A short orgy of work before it shuts down a bit. It's almost predictable that the second week of every month there's this spate of shows coming thru town. While others strike for the last time. Where I am on the list, I now get most if not all of the bigger ones. With The US going into recession this is a soft winter for rock tours. So, every rock show counts.
The two big ones were Marylin Manson at the QET ( with it's new exposed rafters it was the perfect industrial setting ) And John Mellencamp at the Coliseum.
The Marylin show was a tight assed low rent kind of affair. The ground support lighting was the tours. With the prerequisite fogger, dry ice, snow, machines and black confetti cannons. But, every thing else was third party rental gear. Which really slows down any strike. As, the promoter goes cheap on the crew as his rental costs are so much higher. I'm not sure whether he was supporting a new album or anything. If he was, it was a greatest hits album. Cause I heard nothing new, and the show was kind of phoned in. The only cool moment was the Sweet Dreams cover, audience reaction wise. Then again, being a Sunday night show. All the much older Marylin fans probably were all worked out after a week of Hair styling and bouncing around Sin City Fetish club night the night before.
The fun thing about the event was the theater's house-lighting failures throughout the show. They kept popping on ( We think the shows base frequencies kept disconnecting the connecting pins on the house lighting system control. And the dimmers are safety set to default to full on if they don't get a DMX signal saying otherwise. ) This kind of killed the goth dark hallway look of the show. The band members, and backstage VIP entourage kept fingering the lights, along with the crowd. Probably the only genuine emotion happening in the room.
I've seen this entertainer come thru town several times... ( Once he threatened to hit me... but that's another story.) from festival opener. To the barn venues. thru to the coliseum and now he's heading back south thru the theatre tours, probably back into the clubs by the end of the decade. I guess angst and gore isn't such a big seller now that America is such a fcuked up horror show in it's own right. With Marylin's Neo Nazi American flag graffix seeming almost quaint now. That shtick is kind of old, and other than the flag in the background he didn't play it up Alice Cooper style like he used to. It was basically a punk/goth show.
The things that really bothered us was the guitar players incessant spitting throughout the show. On your own tour, with all your own gear and stage carpet. That's fine. But as he was leaving the venue ( With I'll admit his extremely hot entourage of artsy goth babes filming every move ) He spate on OUR stage. And it just shows that you can be a complete Arshole but play guitar and hot women will just fall all over you....
The Mellencamp show was the complete opposite. 6 - 53 foot tractor trailers stuffed to the doors. All top end touring gear Lights, PA, Video screens, Followspots. The full extra cheese event of the season. With a huge road crew and donuts and coffee, breakfast for all of us in the early morning. Which after Marylin's cheap out the night before. Which took us to 2am to strike. Was very welcomed.
I was the lone Trust Spot guy. One of my favorite gigs. Climbing into the spot position however was a task. Who ever had rigged the wire truss ladder. They'd run the belay line for my safety harness thru the ladder. So twice I had to stop on the ladder. thread my body thru the wire. De-clip. clear the line and continue to ascend. By the time I reached my spot chair I was shaking from all the grunting to get there safely. Only to find that the Spot was formounted. Which gave me a view ( which I took a quick photo off... cause nobody ever believes me how cool the view is from up there....) But almost no movement to the spot. Which, gave it almost a pointless grunt for another 90 minutes.
His audience is mostly my age and up. And my view was basically suburban MILF central from above. Man, get a bunch of sexually frustrated wifes drunk on cheap Molson's. And let them loose during "Pink Houses" and you'll see some titties from my angle for sure. Bras were aflying throughout the show. And John kept stopping along the edge of the stage to pose for photos and give as many of the front row for-mentioned frustrated MILF's a fantasy look. Mr Cougar and his band cranked out all the CFOX radio friendly hits and even did a bit of crowd surfing over the 40 somethings. Told stories, and dissed George Bush and the republicans in between songs. Along with the obligatory supporting the troops statement. And a fun time was had by all.
He even let the opening act Red Rider do an encore. All class in comparison to the Marylin Manson show. Which is sad. Cause I like the look and style of the goth aesthetics but why do they have to be such assholes? It makes me not what to talk to people like that. But, I try to keep perspective. For every Hip Hop act that's full of idiots there's a other Hip Hop acts that are full of really thoughtful great crews. Even thought I'm not into the music to say the least.
Life's a gig... and I'm glad to be doing something I love. Even if every day isn't perfect. I mean I just found out that one of my compatriots has died of a heart attack while setting up a show in his venue. And although it's sad. I know that he loved running sound and working shows like I do. And really, is there any better way to live? I don't know of any. I'm not filthy rich money wise... but soul wise... I'm a wealthy man.
Here's to you Doug Mckinnon... Heaven's band has a new Monitor tech....
It's been busy of late....
A short orgy of work before it shuts down a bit. It's almost predictable that the second week of every month there's this spate of shows coming thru town. While others strike for the last time. Where I am on the list, I now get most if not all of the bigger ones. With The US going into recession this is a soft winter for rock tours. So, every rock show counts.
The two big ones were Marylin Manson at the QET ( with it's new exposed rafters it was the perfect industrial setting ) And John Mellencamp at the Coliseum.
The Marylin show was a tight assed low rent kind of affair. The ground support lighting was the tours. With the prerequisite fogger, dry ice, snow, machines and black confetti cannons. But, every thing else was third party rental gear. Which really slows down any strike. As, the promoter goes cheap on the crew as his rental costs are so much higher. I'm not sure whether he was supporting a new album or anything. If he was, it was a greatest hits album. Cause I heard nothing new, and the show was kind of phoned in. The only cool moment was the Sweet Dreams cover, audience reaction wise. Then again, being a Sunday night show. All the much older Marylin fans probably were all worked out after a week of Hair styling and bouncing around Sin City Fetish club night the night before.
The fun thing about the event was the theater's house-lighting failures throughout the show. They kept popping on ( We think the shows base frequencies kept disconnecting the connecting pins on the house lighting system control. And the dimmers are safety set to default to full on if they don't get a DMX signal saying otherwise. ) This kind of killed the goth dark hallway look of the show. The band members, and backstage VIP entourage kept fingering the lights, along with the crowd. Probably the only genuine emotion happening in the room.
I've seen this entertainer come thru town several times... ( Once he threatened to hit me... but that's another story.) from festival opener. To the barn venues. thru to the coliseum and now he's heading back south thru the theatre tours, probably back into the clubs by the end of the decade. I guess angst and gore isn't such a big seller now that America is such a fcuked up horror show in it's own right. With Marylin's Neo Nazi American flag graffix seeming almost quaint now. That shtick is kind of old, and other than the flag in the background he didn't play it up Alice Cooper style like he used to. It was basically a punk/goth show.
The things that really bothered us was the guitar players incessant spitting throughout the show. On your own tour, with all your own gear and stage carpet. That's fine. But as he was leaving the venue ( With I'll admit his extremely hot entourage of artsy goth babes filming every move ) He spate on OUR stage. And it just shows that you can be a complete Arshole but play guitar and hot women will just fall all over you....
The Mellencamp show was the complete opposite. 6 - 53 foot tractor trailers stuffed to the doors. All top end touring gear Lights, PA, Video screens, Followspots. The full extra cheese event of the season. With a huge road crew and donuts and coffee, breakfast for all of us in the early morning. Which after Marylin's cheap out the night before. Which took us to 2am to strike. Was very welcomed.
I was the lone Trust Spot guy. One of my favorite gigs. Climbing into the spot position however was a task. Who ever had rigged the wire truss ladder. They'd run the belay line for my safety harness thru the ladder. So twice I had to stop on the ladder. thread my body thru the wire. De-clip. clear the line and continue to ascend. By the time I reached my spot chair I was shaking from all the grunting to get there safely. Only to find that the Spot was formounted. Which gave me a view ( which I took a quick photo off... cause nobody ever believes me how cool the view is from up there....) But almost no movement to the spot. Which, gave it almost a pointless grunt for another 90 minutes.
His audience is mostly my age and up. And my view was basically suburban MILF central from above. Man, get a bunch of sexually frustrated wifes drunk on cheap Molson's. And let them loose during "Pink Houses" and you'll see some titties from my angle for sure. Bras were aflying throughout the show. And John kept stopping along the edge of the stage to pose for photos and give as many of the front row for-mentioned frustrated MILF's a fantasy look. Mr Cougar and his band cranked out all the CFOX radio friendly hits and even did a bit of crowd surfing over the 40 somethings. Told stories, and dissed George Bush and the republicans in between songs. Along with the obligatory supporting the troops statement. And a fun time was had by all.
He even let the opening act Red Rider do an encore. All class in comparison to the Marylin Manson show. Which is sad. Cause I like the look and style of the goth aesthetics but why do they have to be such assholes? It makes me not what to talk to people like that. But, I try to keep perspective. For every Hip Hop act that's full of idiots there's a other Hip Hop acts that are full of really thoughtful great crews. Even thought I'm not into the music to say the least.
Life's a gig... and I'm glad to be doing something I love. Even if every day isn't perfect. I mean I just found out that one of my compatriots has died of a heart attack while setting up a show in his venue. And although it's sad. I know that he loved running sound and working shows like I do. And really, is there any better way to live? I don't know of any. I'm not filthy rich money wise... but soul wise... I'm a wealthy man.
Here's to you Doug Mckinnon... Heaven's band has a new Monitor tech....
Who The #@$#&^!! Is Mika!!!!
Man I'm getting old...
I worked this show for some sort of British children's star called Mika. I think it was....
There's a real security hang up happening around town. Setup crews are now barred from the inside of venues until the show ends. We were allowed to hang out in the the theatres rehearsal room up on the forth floor of the Orpheum. When we are supposed to muster in the crew rooms down stairs. But, all the brand new "trained for the Olympics" Star Security geeks that seem to be the security company of choice thease days, weren't listening to us. Of Course the HC gets all bitchy that we didn't report in. But, how could we with the radio Nazi telling us otherwise.
The Stage set was like a children's show. And during the event we could hear what sounded like kids songs, and cartoon vignettes thru the production monitors upstairs. After the show came down confetti was everywhere. But, after we opened the stage doors to push out the the band gear we heard this huge Beatlemania - like screaming coming from the street. And outside on the side walk here all these teen girls with posters and pens looking for anyone to sign stuff. many who seemed to even be in their 20 dressed like boho clowns. Sort of a cross between raggedy Ann and retro 80's new wavers. Sort of Kiddie punk. man I felt old.
( It was only after when I checked the net to figure out if this person was male, or female and band or a singer or what... That I found out that this GUY is sort of the flavour of the year male singer for the gay community. And more importantly, the local contingent of FH young girls who will burn their panties for quasi fem guys who cock tease about their real sexuality. That this guy is basically the new Elton John. )
The set went out out easy. and the crowd melted away as soon as the band members came out to sign autographs. But I really never get half of the shows I work on now. This, I guess is age kicking in....
Hey you kids... get off my lawn!!!!
Man I'm getting old...
I worked this show for some sort of British children's star called Mika. I think it was....
There's a real security hang up happening around town. Setup crews are now barred from the inside of venues until the show ends. We were allowed to hang out in the the theatres rehearsal room up on the forth floor of the Orpheum. When we are supposed to muster in the crew rooms down stairs. But, all the brand new "trained for the Olympics" Star Security geeks that seem to be the security company of choice thease days, weren't listening to us. Of Course the HC gets all bitchy that we didn't report in. But, how could we with the radio Nazi telling us otherwise.
The Stage set was like a children's show. And during the event we could hear what sounded like kids songs, and cartoon vignettes thru the production monitors upstairs. After the show came down confetti was everywhere. But, after we opened the stage doors to push out the the band gear we heard this huge Beatlemania - like screaming coming from the street. And outside on the side walk here all these teen girls with posters and pens looking for anyone to sign stuff. many who seemed to even be in their 20 dressed like boho clowns. Sort of a cross between raggedy Ann and retro 80's new wavers. Sort of Kiddie punk. man I felt old.
( It was only after when I checked the net to figure out if this person was male, or female and band or a singer or what... That I found out that this GUY is sort of the flavour of the year male singer for the gay community. And more importantly, the local contingent of FH young girls who will burn their panties for quasi fem guys who cock tease about their real sexuality. That this guy is basically the new Elton John. )
The set went out out easy. and the crowd melted away as soon as the band members came out to sign autographs. But I really never get half of the shows I work on now. This, I guess is age kicking in....
Hey you kids... get off my lawn!!!!
The Parrot's Den
I'm off night-clubbing right now..... Sanctuary and hot, crazy suicide-girls type girls be damned
I'm hanging out in questionable bars on my vampire nights off. Working on shows, I work in the evening. So 3 am for me, it's like 7pm for the Normals. The parrots.... is this local owned by motorcycle cops ( Actually, Motorcycle cop's wives... imported from the Philippines. Having Amer-Asian babies and cooking breakfast's for the local condo contractors in the morning. Then, hiring white wait-staff to turn the restaurant into an ad-hawk beer bar in the evening. ) It's a no bullshit affair, A Star Trek Mirror World version of an HA cantina bar. decorated like an explosion on a Jimmy buffet, soft rock, video set. Full of flaky people, and interesting conversations. The main bar tender, is this bruiser of an 80's surrey girl A ex security guard that I used to see often at rock shows. Fights are rare and far between. And police response is, Swift, Brutal and Complete. A great place to be a quiet regular. The juke box is full of classic punk and metal acts. And, it's the cheapest place to get a Beck's along the rip off that is Granville street.
(One of the things I hate is beer snobbery... but we all have it somewhere in our genes. It's a taste. My brother's been to Ireland. There he drank Guinness ( lots of Guinness... and it shows ) straight from the brew pub place that made the first Guinness ever. Now, here in Vancouver he's sworn off the brew as here it's not " Real Guinness " Me? I drink Beck's. Because everywhere I 've even been it tastes exactly the same. Across Canada, Europe, down to LA . It's like the German standard. The Big Mac of Beers. Anyways I digress.... )
I ended up chatting with this guy, Oso. An importee from Guatemala. Who as a teen was here illegally. Selling dope and running from the cops. Till a police officer unwittingly hired him to reno his house out in the burbs, under the table. Which led to him getting a gig on the new Olympic Sky-train extension. Where now he works in the trade union, legally. Now, he's 27, Laying Re-bar 12 hours a day, 5 days a week. And, is now making more money then he ever could back in Central America. I love talking to people high in their lives. regardless of what they do. They're so perfectly full of they're moment. Open to all. He wants to be a video game maker. As that's his real passion. And I can just see what he sees in his eyes. Just massive potential.
With him was is GF? a stripper down at The Penthouse. Who's working the floor doing private dances for cash. As she can't pay all the fees to be a regular. And has no agent to be a feature. A lovely latino girl from Mexico city. Tall, with curly hair. An impish face with big soft brown eyes. Brandishing her first of many tattoos. A flower motif cascading up her calf. And she has that perfect sitar shaped body. That silhouette of a small, nymphet girlish top, but womanly hips and thighs that makes me want a private dance just from looking at her. I'm certain she does well for a cash only girl. being barely legal ( In more ways than one as I found out )
They started buying me Beck's as I told road stories, working with bands they'd probably never heard off. And, I'm doing my best... dividing my time between the two of them. trying to be charming. practicing those tourism BC muscles. But, I have to admit I could barely keep my eyes of this girl, Marta, his Mexican girl friend. As I've been so lonely for so long.
Then, while she's in the ladies. Oso point blankly offers me to her... Which totally took me back. She's illegal. And Marta needs a Canadian Fella. And he says, she says she likes me. Now, I'm 41 and she's barely 21. And he's all, " that doesn't matter, you want her don't you. " Well, yes I had to admit my manhood is screaming for a moment like this. But, my head ( the other one....) even though it's filled with generic German purity beer. Has seen sure things like this before. And the police sirens were going off in my head.
So, I thought of the perfect return..... I'd have to see her dance first. And not at the penthouse, but out on a dance floor. And told them of my regular Goth/ industrial haunt. We exchanged numbers and maybe they'll show.
but, I doubt it... like the rest of their story.......
I'm off night-clubbing right now..... Sanctuary and hot, crazy suicide-girls type girls be damned
I'm hanging out in questionable bars on my vampire nights off. Working on shows, I work in the evening. So 3 am for me, it's like 7pm for the Normals. The parrots.... is this local owned by motorcycle cops ( Actually, Motorcycle cop's wives... imported from the Philippines. Having Amer-Asian babies and cooking breakfast's for the local condo contractors in the morning. Then, hiring white wait-staff to turn the restaurant into an ad-hawk beer bar in the evening. ) It's a no bullshit affair, A Star Trek Mirror World version of an HA cantina bar. decorated like an explosion on a Jimmy buffet, soft rock, video set. Full of flaky people, and interesting conversations. The main bar tender, is this bruiser of an 80's surrey girl A ex security guard that I used to see often at rock shows. Fights are rare and far between. And police response is, Swift, Brutal and Complete. A great place to be a quiet regular. The juke box is full of classic punk and metal acts. And, it's the cheapest place to get a Beck's along the rip off that is Granville street.
(One of the things I hate is beer snobbery... but we all have it somewhere in our genes. It's a taste. My brother's been to Ireland. There he drank Guinness ( lots of Guinness... and it shows ) straight from the brew pub place that made the first Guinness ever. Now, here in Vancouver he's sworn off the brew as here it's not " Real Guinness " Me? I drink Beck's. Because everywhere I 've even been it tastes exactly the same. Across Canada, Europe, down to LA . It's like the German standard. The Big Mac of Beers. Anyways I digress.... )
I ended up chatting with this guy, Oso. An importee from Guatemala. Who as a teen was here illegally. Selling dope and running from the cops. Till a police officer unwittingly hired him to reno his house out in the burbs, under the table. Which led to him getting a gig on the new Olympic Sky-train extension. Where now he works in the trade union, legally. Now, he's 27, Laying Re-bar 12 hours a day, 5 days a week. And, is now making more money then he ever could back in Central America. I love talking to people high in their lives. regardless of what they do. They're so perfectly full of they're moment. Open to all. He wants to be a video game maker. As that's his real passion. And I can just see what he sees in his eyes. Just massive potential.
With him was is GF? a stripper down at The Penthouse. Who's working the floor doing private dances for cash. As she can't pay all the fees to be a regular. And has no agent to be a feature. A lovely latino girl from Mexico city. Tall, with curly hair. An impish face with big soft brown eyes. Brandishing her first of many tattoos. A flower motif cascading up her calf. And she has that perfect sitar shaped body. That silhouette of a small, nymphet girlish top, but womanly hips and thighs that makes me want a private dance just from looking at her. I'm certain she does well for a cash only girl. being barely legal ( In more ways than one as I found out )
They started buying me Beck's as I told road stories, working with bands they'd probably never heard off. And, I'm doing my best... dividing my time between the two of them. trying to be charming. practicing those tourism BC muscles. But, I have to admit I could barely keep my eyes of this girl, Marta, his Mexican girl friend. As I've been so lonely for so long.
Then, while she's in the ladies. Oso point blankly offers me to her... Which totally took me back. She's illegal. And Marta needs a Canadian Fella. And he says, she says she likes me. Now, I'm 41 and she's barely 21. And he's all, " that doesn't matter, you want her don't you. " Well, yes I had to admit my manhood is screaming for a moment like this. But, my head ( the other one....) even though it's filled with generic German purity beer. Has seen sure things like this before. And the police sirens were going off in my head.
So, I thought of the perfect return..... I'd have to see her dance first. And not at the penthouse, but out on a dance floor. And told them of my regular Goth/ industrial haunt. We exchanged numbers and maybe they'll show.
but, I doubt it... like the rest of their story.......
Nothing... for Nobody
I'm dreaming again....
It's funny... I don't remember dreams so much anymore. I used to be so good at that aspect. But, I think it's a skill. And without exercise, or without relation ( Writing about it...) it begins to pale. Or, none have been that spooky memorable of late. But, enough of this one was. That I want to relate it here......
I dream t that I was back in the suburbs of London.... Or was in Milton Keens. It definitely had this old British town square feeling. Cobblestones that belonged in place. Weathered as if they'd been there, and been repaired and replaced, repetitively since Roman times. I could barely make them out, in the new snow beneath my feet. Walking late at night around a round-about with a friend of mine. Matt and I spoke in this dream like we never were apart. As if it was an other time thread where I had suck it out with him and the band. Wet snow was falling. I could see it through the winter dusk and the Sodium street lights. That gave the landscape a weak pale yellow sheen to the snow-scape and the brick buildings that surrounded around the round about. Some had windows. behind which where faint lights. The other's vacant. And one, which was a bombed out crater. Heaps of rubble on a hill, aspects of the horizon masquerading as a mockery of a row house.
I saw actual remains of houses like this when I was in London. Out in the east burbs. Transiting back from the Hammer-smith Odeon. It's one of my strongest memories from way back then.
Matt and I ventured towards the ruins. Where, in the middle of a yellow grey colored grassy pit. blanketed in a light snow, was the origins of the destroyed house. There amongst the broken timbers, stripped furnishings, and upended personal affects. Stood a deer. staring at us. As if caught unaware. She was lovely and glossy but surrounded in flies. As real animals are in the wild. Not these perfect renditions of animal life. More that national geographic, real beauty. Warts, flies and all....
Staring back at her... I remarked to Matt....I'm glad I never really dream of Wendy anymore.....
I'm dreaming again....
It's funny... I don't remember dreams so much anymore. I used to be so good at that aspect. But, I think it's a skill. And without exercise, or without relation ( Writing about it...) it begins to pale. Or, none have been that spooky memorable of late. But, enough of this one was. That I want to relate it here......
I dream t that I was back in the suburbs of London.... Or was in Milton Keens. It definitely had this old British town square feeling. Cobblestones that belonged in place. Weathered as if they'd been there, and been repaired and replaced, repetitively since Roman times. I could barely make them out, in the new snow beneath my feet. Walking late at night around a round-about with a friend of mine. Matt and I spoke in this dream like we never were apart. As if it was an other time thread where I had suck it out with him and the band. Wet snow was falling. I could see it through the winter dusk and the Sodium street lights. That gave the landscape a weak pale yellow sheen to the snow-scape and the brick buildings that surrounded around the round about. Some had windows. behind which where faint lights. The other's vacant. And one, which was a bombed out crater. Heaps of rubble on a hill, aspects of the horizon masquerading as a mockery of a row house.
I saw actual remains of houses like this when I was in London. Out in the east burbs. Transiting back from the Hammer-smith Odeon. It's one of my strongest memories from way back then.
Matt and I ventured towards the ruins. Where, in the middle of a yellow grey colored grassy pit. blanketed in a light snow, was the origins of the destroyed house. There amongst the broken timbers, stripped furnishings, and upended personal affects. Stood a deer. staring at us. As if caught unaware. She was lovely and glossy but surrounded in flies. As real animals are in the wild. Not these perfect renditions of animal life. More that national geographic, real beauty. Warts, flies and all....
Staring back at her... I remarked to Matt....I'm glad I never really dream of Wendy anymore.....
