Blog Song Of The Day:
Ashley Tisdale - What If
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Sticking with the AC/DC theme . . .
What's wrong with people that smoke?
Okay, I'm going to concede that we are outside. And the general consensus is that if you're going to pursue that unpleasant habit then it should take place outside. But I think you're missing the heart of why its supposed to be relegated to outside. The point is for it to be inoffensive to us, the greater majority, that think its gross.
That being said, when we're packed 16 people to a square meter, that is NOT a good time for you to fire up a Marlboro and enjoy a smoke!
I'm stuck in the middle of a T-shirt line. There's a least a 100 people on all sides of me, and I'm jammed into that pack much like cattle prodded towards the slaughter of the killing floor. I can't GO anywhere. There's nothing I can do to avoid your smoking. I can't move. I can't turn away. I can't stand somewhere else. I'm just STUCK there.
So don't fucking smoke! Why is this so god damn hard for you to comprehend!?! Its sick. Just stop. If you really must pursue this nauseating habit then go hide in some god damn corner and suck in your carcinogens alone. I don't need to die along side of you.
What's wrong with people that smoke?
Okay, I'm going to concede that we are outside. And the general consensus is that if you're going to pursue that unpleasant habit then it should take place outside. But I think you're missing the heart of why its supposed to be relegated to outside. The point is for it to be inoffensive to us, the greater majority, that think its gross.
That being said, when we're packed 16 people to a square meter, that is NOT a good time for you to fire up a Marlboro and enjoy a smoke!
I'm stuck in the middle of a T-shirt line. There's a least a 100 people on all sides of me, and I'm jammed into that pack much like cattle prodded towards the slaughter of the killing floor. I can't GO anywhere. There's nothing I can do to avoid your smoking. I can't move. I can't turn away. I can't stand somewhere else. I'm just STUCK there.
So don't fucking smoke! Why is this so god damn hard for you to comprehend!?! Its sick. Just stop. If you really must pursue this nauseating habit then go hide in some god damn corner and suck in your carcinogens alone. I don't need to die along side of you.
Monday, August 31, 2009
I was actually a little deaf when it was over. That caught me by surprise because the sound was great, but I didn't feel like it had been that loud. It goes to show that if the sound is good, it can be loud and you won't necessarily notice.
The concert had been great. That doesn't really even cover the experience, and how I felt about it, but they don't make a single word superlative that I could use at the end of that sentence. I felt happy and content with myself and the world around me. 40,000 people started streaming out of Taylor Field. While our seats had been painfully hard, and galactically far from the stage, one advantage was that we were low to the ground, and first to the concrete to head out on our way home.
While getting into the stadium had been an experience that appeared to rival the grim march into a concentration camp, the exit was relatively speedy. There were no hang-ups on getting out and for the most part people moved orderly. It was only a few minutes and we were spilled onto 9th Avenue. It was a quick walk back up the street to the make-shift bus stops. It was kind of surreal to do the walk in reverse. Everything that had taken half an hour was 30 seconds in reverse. Even the apartment building with the old guy in tattoos blaring the AC/DC from the patio.
We arrive at Albert Street and its relatively uncrowded. I suppose this shouldn't have been a surprise. We were one of the first one's to exit the stadium so getting to the bus stop first wasn't that unsurprising. I'm not entirely sure why I did this but I took note of the time. After some initial confusion about where to line up for the bus, we started waiting at 11:15.
And then we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The buses never came. This grand plan about getting people into and out of the concert site via bus, and saving all the hassle and confusion of thousands of cars was completely bolluxed up by the fact that
THEY DIDN'T SEND ANY BUSES!!!
We're standing there like fucking idiots and the buses never come. Five minutes because ten minutes and not a single bus arrives at the bus stop. Its marked, with a big sign on the post ouside the Humpty's 'Southland Mall' and the stupid bus never shows up. Not late, not in insufficient quantities, it just doesn't show up at all. AT ALL.
We're standing on the street, waiting for a bus, and it never shows up. Now thousands of other concert-goers are arriving behind us, but because we haven't gotten on a bus already, the mass of humanity just grows and grows. They've done nothing to diminish the numbers so it just becomes this giant mob of people. Keep in mind that most of them have been sampling from the beer stations at the concert so their manners are not at their best.
Bus after bus drives by on Albert Street, all headed (full) to the Victoria Mall and we're all standing at this Southland Mall stop waiting for a fucking bus that never shows up. Where at first there was maybe a 100 of us that wanted a bus ride, the numbers have now swell to easily more than a 1000. And no one is really in that pleasant of a mood anymore. We're miles from our vehicles, they've completely stranded us, and the damn buses are not showing up.
At 11:45 the first bus destined for the Southland Mall makes an appearance. It has to stop at a red light north of the actual bus stop and people that can read its destination mob it at the light. The driver opens the door so people that were late arriving to the bus stop are actually the first to get a ride. This does not go unnoticed.
The second bus to arrive at the Southland stop does not take passengers at the light, even though its mobbed. This driver goes passed the marked bus stop sign in front of Humpty's and starts taking passengers almost at the underpass. This also does not go unnoticed.
The next bus to arrive stops in the general vicinity of the actual bus stop in front of the Humpty's. For lack of a better word, it turns into a riot. There is pushing, and shoving, and a general melee to get onto the bus. I'm not kidding. People were fighting to get on the bus. We'd waited over half an hour for the bus to show up in the first place, watched the first one fill up with late comer's and patience for this horse shit was gone. Everyone wanted on the next bus, if it meant stepping on someone's grandma to do it.
I thought the T-shirt crowd had been rough but frankly, it was tighter in that fight to get into the bus. Thankfully it was quicker to get on the bus because I don't think I could have handled much more time in that mob. I wanted to punch someone and clear some personal space for myself. I was crushed on all sides by people wanting into the bus. I wanted in too but this was insanity.
After a great concert the whole experience was nearly ruined by the City of Regina's ill prepared plan to ferry people out of the concert site by bus.
Shame on you City of Regina!
The concert had been great. That doesn't really even cover the experience, and how I felt about it, but they don't make a single word superlative that I could use at the end of that sentence. I felt happy and content with myself and the world around me. 40,000 people started streaming out of Taylor Field. While our seats had been painfully hard, and galactically far from the stage, one advantage was that we were low to the ground, and first to the concrete to head out on our way home.
While getting into the stadium had been an experience that appeared to rival the grim march into a concentration camp, the exit was relatively speedy. There were no hang-ups on getting out and for the most part people moved orderly. It was only a few minutes and we were spilled onto 9th Avenue. It was a quick walk back up the street to the make-shift bus stops. It was kind of surreal to do the walk in reverse. Everything that had taken half an hour was 30 seconds in reverse. Even the apartment building with the old guy in tattoos blaring the AC/DC from the patio.
We arrive at Albert Street and its relatively uncrowded. I suppose this shouldn't have been a surprise. We were one of the first one's to exit the stadium so getting to the bus stop first wasn't that unsurprising. I'm not entirely sure why I did this but I took note of the time. After some initial confusion about where to line up for the bus, we started waiting at 11:15.
And then we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The buses never came. This grand plan about getting people into and out of the concert site via bus, and saving all the hassle and confusion of thousands of cars was completely bolluxed up by the fact that
THEY DIDN'T SEND ANY BUSES!!!
We're standing there like fucking idiots and the buses never come. Five minutes because ten minutes and not a single bus arrives at the bus stop. Its marked, with a big sign on the post ouside the Humpty's 'Southland Mall' and the stupid bus never shows up. Not late, not in insufficient quantities, it just doesn't show up at all. AT ALL.
We're standing on the street, waiting for a bus, and it never shows up. Now thousands of other concert-goers are arriving behind us, but because we haven't gotten on a bus already, the mass of humanity just grows and grows. They've done nothing to diminish the numbers so it just becomes this giant mob of people. Keep in mind that most of them have been sampling from the beer stations at the concert so their manners are not at their best.
Bus after bus drives by on Albert Street, all headed (full) to the Victoria Mall and we're all standing at this Southland Mall stop waiting for a fucking bus that never shows up. Where at first there was maybe a 100 of us that wanted a bus ride, the numbers have now swell to easily more than a 1000. And no one is really in that pleasant of a mood anymore. We're miles from our vehicles, they've completely stranded us, and the damn buses are not showing up.
At 11:45 the first bus destined for the Southland Mall makes an appearance. It has to stop at a red light north of the actual bus stop and people that can read its destination mob it at the light. The driver opens the door so people that were late arriving to the bus stop are actually the first to get a ride. This does not go unnoticed.
The second bus to arrive at the Southland stop does not take passengers at the light, even though its mobbed. This driver goes passed the marked bus stop sign in front of Humpty's and starts taking passengers almost at the underpass. This also does not go unnoticed.
The next bus to arrive stops in the general vicinity of the actual bus stop in front of the Humpty's. For lack of a better word, it turns into a riot. There is pushing, and shoving, and a general melee to get onto the bus. I'm not kidding. People were fighting to get on the bus. We'd waited over half an hour for the bus to show up in the first place, watched the first one fill up with late comer's and patience for this horse shit was gone. Everyone wanted on the next bus, if it meant stepping on someone's grandma to do it.
I thought the T-shirt crowd had been rough but frankly, it was tighter in that fight to get into the bus. Thankfully it was quicker to get on the bus because I don't think I could have handled much more time in that mob. I wanted to punch someone and clear some personal space for myself. I was crushed on all sides by people wanting into the bus. I wanted in too but this was insanity.
After a great concert the whole experience was nearly ruined by the City of Regina's ill prepared plan to ferry people out of the concert site by bus.
Shame on you City of Regina!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Once I was on the grounds, the blood pressure came down a little. The intensity of the human contact came down a little. People spread out, moved in different directions and there was room to move.
We checked out the grounds. I took a couple of pictures. We scoped out our seats, noting that the knotty pine would make for a painful seating arrangement. The general consensus was that we were hungry like ass, so we checked out the food options.
Right behind the wooden stands was a Western Pizza truck that sold tasty pizza for $6 a slice, and sold bottled Coke that was semi-warm for $4. I have an issue with $4 for a warm Coke. That's just gross.
So we've had some food. We're drinking warm, highly expensive pop. We're walking around inside the walls, not really doing anything because its a LONG time before the show starts. There is a general mass of humanity in front of what we assume was the merchandise tent. We had 45 minutes before what we thought was the start of the show so why not see if we can get a T-shirt?
H-oly Sh-it was that a bad mother-fucking idea!!!
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This is a view from the back of the line when we started. For some interminable period this view never changed. We just shuffled in place, wondering to ourselves, and to the people around us, if the line was ever going to move.
Truthfully, I think we made more forward progress when people gave up and left the line. I also think the very center of the pile, and the very edge of the pile, progress faster than the inner quadrants. We never seemed to move. There was almost a girl fight to our right when a young brunette, who frankly was a huge bitch, ended up ahead of a 40's era woman. The older woman looked ready to pop one but I think she was talked out of it.
Minutes turned into a half an hour. A half an hour turned into an hour. The opening band came on and frankly, we weren't appreciably closer to the merchandise tent. The opening band did not sound like a great, screaming hell and we were committed now. A greater crowd had formed behind us, so while we hadn't moved forward, leaving now would mean we'd given up considerable ground.
So we were in for the long haul. And a long haul it turned out to be.
The pace seemed to get more frantic as the opening band played. AC/DC was going on stage within the hour and all this pointless standing around on the tarmac was not going to satisfy the rabid lust that was building in the crowd. Not helping matters were the drunk bastards sneaking in around the corner of the tent and essentially cutting the line. Tempers were getting frayed and there was a lot of tension.
We finally got close enough to the front of the line to see what was the problem. But now the opening band was wrapping up their set so time was truly of the essence.
The problem appeared to be: they had no staff in the merchandise tent!!! I counted three people selling hats and T-shirts. That mob was being serviced by three people. Its not just crazy, its fucking nuts!!! Who's running this piss-poor operation.
Now that we're near the front, and time is running out, things are getting wild. People are just crushing into the tent, forcing the tables back. They are running out of all the T-shirt styles so there's frantic decision making being made. Tempers are high because people are coming in from the side, people are taking too long deciding, and simply, there isn't enough time.
People want to get out and they have to crush their way from within the crowd. Its harder to get out then get in because no one wants to give up an inch. We get to the front and its lightning fast decisions. What's left? Give me something black. Pay the money. Walk away.
Total time spent in line? 100 minutes. That is fucking bat-shit nuts!
We checked out the grounds. I took a couple of pictures. We scoped out our seats, noting that the knotty pine would make for a painful seating arrangement. The general consensus was that we were hungry like ass, so we checked out the food options.
Right behind the wooden stands was a Western Pizza truck that sold tasty pizza for $6 a slice, and sold bottled Coke that was semi-warm for $4. I have an issue with $4 for a warm Coke. That's just gross.
So we've had some food. We're drinking warm, highly expensive pop. We're walking around inside the walls, not really doing anything because its a LONG time before the show starts. There is a general mass of humanity in front of what we assume was the merchandise tent. We had 45 minutes before what we thought was the start of the show so why not see if we can get a T-shirt?
H-oly Sh-it was that a bad mother-fucking idea!!!
.jpg)
This is a view from the back of the line when we started. For some interminable period this view never changed. We just shuffled in place, wondering to ourselves, and to the people around us, if the line was ever going to move.
Truthfully, I think we made more forward progress when people gave up and left the line. I also think the very center of the pile, and the very edge of the pile, progress faster than the inner quadrants. We never seemed to move. There was almost a girl fight to our right when a young brunette, who frankly was a huge bitch, ended up ahead of a 40's era woman. The older woman looked ready to pop one but I think she was talked out of it.
Minutes turned into a half an hour. A half an hour turned into an hour. The opening band came on and frankly, we weren't appreciably closer to the merchandise tent. The opening band did not sound like a great, screaming hell and we were committed now. A greater crowd had formed behind us, so while we hadn't moved forward, leaving now would mean we'd given up considerable ground.
So we were in for the long haul. And a long haul it turned out to be.
The pace seemed to get more frantic as the opening band played. AC/DC was going on stage within the hour and all this pointless standing around on the tarmac was not going to satisfy the rabid lust that was building in the crowd. Not helping matters were the drunk bastards sneaking in around the corner of the tent and essentially cutting the line. Tempers were getting frayed and there was a lot of tension.
We finally got close enough to the front of the line to see what was the problem. But now the opening band was wrapping up their set so time was truly of the essence.
The problem appeared to be: they had no staff in the merchandise tent!!! I counted three people selling hats and T-shirts. That mob was being serviced by three people. Its not just crazy, its fucking nuts!!! Who's running this piss-poor operation.
Now that we're near the front, and time is running out, things are getting wild. People are just crushing into the tent, forcing the tables back. They are running out of all the T-shirt styles so there's frantic decision making being made. Tempers are high because people are coming in from the side, people are taking too long deciding, and simply, there isn't enough time.
People want to get out and they have to crush their way from within the crowd. Its harder to get out then get in because no one wants to give up an inch. We get to the front and its lightning fast decisions. What's left? Give me something black. Pay the money. Walk away.
Total time spent in line? 100 minutes. That is fucking bat-shit nuts!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
So we step off the bus into the semi-blasted wasteland of central Regina and the first thing we encounter is a teeming horde of humanity. What the hell could this be? We're probably 5 blocks from the stadium, at the very least. Why are there so many people congregated at the bus drop?
It only took a few moments to discover that, we had to get in line for entry to the stadium grounds. A line that was approximately 5 block long! Every street and path and corridor to the stadium was blocked to traffic. The only way into or out of the site was on foot. But there was very little actual movement because everyone was grouped up in lines.
It seemed a little like the proverbial lambs to the slaughter. A twisted, crooked line extended back from the stadium, with people formed up in an unmarked line, waiting to get into the grounds. its actually a little amazing how (relatively) neat and orderly people are about standing in line to wait, when called upon. No one formed up the line, or pointed out where it should be, or corrected it for straightness. Nonetheless for 5 blocks or more it stretched up 9th Avenue, in two groups, to the East Gate and the North Gate.
It seems bizarre that we should have to go through this ordeal. And for what? To gain entry to a rock concert? I'm not sure if they gave up on security when the line got all the way to Albert Street, or if they were always that lax about it. However when I got to the front I was asked what was in my pocket. I could have had anything, and said "gum and a cell phone" and it appeared the guy would have believed me. So we wait for half an hour for zero security at all?
It only took a few moments to discover that, we had to get in line for entry to the stadium grounds. A line that was approximately 5 block long! Every street and path and corridor to the stadium was blocked to traffic. The only way into or out of the site was on foot. But there was very little actual movement because everyone was grouped up in lines.
It seemed a little like the proverbial lambs to the slaughter. A twisted, crooked line extended back from the stadium, with people formed up in an unmarked line, waiting to get into the grounds. its actually a little amazing how (relatively) neat and orderly people are about standing in line to wait, when called upon. No one formed up the line, or pointed out where it should be, or corrected it for straightness. Nonetheless for 5 blocks or more it stretched up 9th Avenue, in two groups, to the East Gate and the North Gate.
It seems bizarre that we should have to go through this ordeal. And for what? To gain entry to a rock concert? I'm not sure if they gave up on security when the line got all the way to Albert Street, or if they were always that lax about it. However when I got to the front I was asked what was in my pocket. I could have had anything, and said "gum and a cell phone" and it appeared the guy would have believed me. So we wait for half an hour for zero security at all?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
I got a bad feeling about how the night was going to go when we drove into the parking lot of the Southland Mall.
They absolutely hammer you on the radio and the media, take the bus to the big event! Save the hassle! Save the traffic! Just ride the bus. So you figure, I'll do the conscientious thing, stay out of everyone's way, and just take the bus. One less car near the stadium. One fewer person tying up traffic in what is sure to be a nightmare.
It was just past 5:00 when we pulled into the Southland Mall parking lot. We thought the concert started at 6:30. It actually didn't start until 7:45, so we were WAY early. Nonetheless when we got in line it was about 4 people wide, I'd estimate, and I would say at least 200 feet long.
This is 5:00.
So we waited for buses. There are literally hundreds of people waiting for the bus. One bus pulled up. 100 people run to the bus and jam it full in a manner of seconds. This still leaves hundreds behind. There's cause for concern. No other bus pulls up for the rest of us.
So we wait more. No bus. Time ticks by like the beads of sweat on the brow of a fat man in a jogging suit. No bus. Then another bus shows up. Jams full of people in seconds and pulls away. Same scenario as before. What the hell? Is this the bus loading plan they have for us?
Miraculously the next series of buses pulls up only a moment later, and its two in a row. So another mad scramble ensues to get on them. It wasn't an actual riot, but you could start to feel the rumblings of one coming due to the lack of buses. I was on the fourth so I didn't find out if they burned anything to the ground after I left. It was dark when we returned so I didn't notice anything but as far as I know, there was no riot.
But could the driver have taken a more serpentine path to the stadium? I'm not saying I'm an expert on Regina but we went through parts I never even imagined existed. Down residential streets, past mini-malls in the middle of suburbia. Roared by schools and people jogging past their houses. I know where Taylor Field is but Christ if we didn't go through Avonlea to get there.
Then we get to the site, going to the Lewvan just to come all the way back to Albert Street. That seemed like an excessively long path to take but then who am I? Surely the City of Regina and its bus drivers know routes better than me. The driver dumps us out at Albert and 9th Avenue, and like refugees dumped at the entrance to the evacuation camp, we stumbled up to the sea of humanity that was the entrance to Taylor Field on that night.
They absolutely hammer you on the radio and the media, take the bus to the big event! Save the hassle! Save the traffic! Just ride the bus. So you figure, I'll do the conscientious thing, stay out of everyone's way, and just take the bus. One less car near the stadium. One fewer person tying up traffic in what is sure to be a nightmare.
It was just past 5:00 when we pulled into the Southland Mall parking lot. We thought the concert started at 6:30. It actually didn't start until 7:45, so we were WAY early. Nonetheless when we got in line it was about 4 people wide, I'd estimate, and I would say at least 200 feet long.
This is 5:00.
So we waited for buses. There are literally hundreds of people waiting for the bus. One bus pulled up. 100 people run to the bus and jam it full in a manner of seconds. This still leaves hundreds behind. There's cause for concern. No other bus pulls up for the rest of us.
So we wait more. No bus. Time ticks by like the beads of sweat on the brow of a fat man in a jogging suit. No bus. Then another bus shows up. Jams full of people in seconds and pulls away. Same scenario as before. What the hell? Is this the bus loading plan they have for us?
Miraculously the next series of buses pulls up only a moment later, and its two in a row. So another mad scramble ensues to get on them. It wasn't an actual riot, but you could start to feel the rumblings of one coming due to the lack of buses. I was on the fourth so I didn't find out if they burned anything to the ground after I left. It was dark when we returned so I didn't notice anything but as far as I know, there was no riot.
But could the driver have taken a more serpentine path to the stadium? I'm not saying I'm an expert on Regina but we went through parts I never even imagined existed. Down residential streets, past mini-malls in the middle of suburbia. Roared by schools and people jogging past their houses. I know where Taylor Field is but Christ if we didn't go through Avonlea to get there.
Then we get to the site, going to the Lewvan just to come all the way back to Albert Street. That seemed like an excessively long path to take but then who am I? Surely the City of Regina and its bus drivers know routes better than me. The driver dumps us out at Albert and 9th Avenue, and like refugees dumped at the entrance to the evacuation camp, we stumbled up to the sea of humanity that was the entrance to Taylor Field on that night.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
What follows will be be a series of posts about my experience at the AC/DC concert. One of these posts will include photos, just not this one because I forgot my flash drive at home this morning.
The Concert
I don't have a lot of experience with attending rock concerts. I've been to dozens, to hundreds, but I've always been in the back. I've always been an employee at these shows, and not a patron. Its not even the same experience. Yes, you still hear the music. Sure you still see the lights. But there's some intangible quality to being /in/ the crowd that changes it for you.
AC/DC is one of those bands that just transcends time. What are these guys, like 50 now? Yet they came on stage and in minutes they had the crowd. Just had us. I was into the show before the first song was done. I've been to a few shows as a patron and you had to warm into it a couple of songs. Not with this one. Bang! The show starts and you're connected with the music.
I wish I could rattle off from you the set list. I wish I could but frankly I don't have the memory for that. Its all just one melodic blur. I remember some of my favorites were played. The did 'Dirty Deeds' and 'Hells Bells'. They played 'Rock'n'Roll Train' early. Now that I think about it, I think it was first. Actually, a lot of the songs they did were from the new album. It was as if they mixed a new one with an old favorite, so you couldn't mark the difference from one's you knew by heard, from one's that weren't familiar yet.
I've never been to an open air concert. It was a little different. The sound was perfect. There wasn't a scratch to it at all. Sometimes a rock show is loud, and seems loud, and you know it. But this was loud but you didn't notice it. I wasn't even aware of how loud it was until they finally quit, and there was no more music, and I realized I was partially deaf!
It just flowed, and flowed and flowed. The whole show was seemless. Effortless. And you could tell that it was ending. All good things eventually do. But it kinda felt like the band was almost more reluctant to quit than the audience was to let them go. Before the actual encore, Angus did this guitar solo that had to have went on for 20 minutes at least. He played to the wings. He played down the center. He played onto a rising platform with strobe lights going off. It was crazy epic. Then he played to the centre of the stage, over the drums and you thought it might be over. You feared it might be over. Then a boom went off and they played more. I cheered and screamed and I had no conscious thought about doing it.
When it ended, and it had to end I guess, they let us go with a bang. We had fireworks and explosions and a fantastic send off to captivate the end of a phenomenal rock show. They'll talk about this one for awhile and I am one of the people that can say, I was there.
The Concert
I don't have a lot of experience with attending rock concerts. I've been to dozens, to hundreds, but I've always been in the back. I've always been an employee at these shows, and not a patron. Its not even the same experience. Yes, you still hear the music. Sure you still see the lights. But there's some intangible quality to being /in/ the crowd that changes it for you.
AC/DC is one of those bands that just transcends time. What are these guys, like 50 now? Yet they came on stage and in minutes they had the crowd. Just had us. I was into the show before the first song was done. I've been to a few shows as a patron and you had to warm into it a couple of songs. Not with this one. Bang! The show starts and you're connected with the music.
I wish I could rattle off from you the set list. I wish I could but frankly I don't have the memory for that. Its all just one melodic blur. I remember some of my favorites were played. The did 'Dirty Deeds' and 'Hells Bells'. They played 'Rock'n'Roll Train' early. Now that I think about it, I think it was first. Actually, a lot of the songs they did were from the new album. It was as if they mixed a new one with an old favorite, so you couldn't mark the difference from one's you knew by heard, from one's that weren't familiar yet.
I've never been to an open air concert. It was a little different. The sound was perfect. There wasn't a scratch to it at all. Sometimes a rock show is loud, and seems loud, and you know it. But this was loud but you didn't notice it. I wasn't even aware of how loud it was until they finally quit, and there was no more music, and I realized I was partially deaf!
It just flowed, and flowed and flowed. The whole show was seemless. Effortless. And you could tell that it was ending. All good things eventually do. But it kinda felt like the band was almost more reluctant to quit than the audience was to let them go. Before the actual encore, Angus did this guitar solo that had to have went on for 20 minutes at least. He played to the wings. He played down the center. He played onto a rising platform with strobe lights going off. It was crazy epic. Then he played to the centre of the stage, over the drums and you thought it might be over. You feared it might be over. Then a boom went off and they played more. I cheered and screamed and I had no conscious thought about doing it.
When it ended, and it had to end I guess, they let us go with a bang. We had fireworks and explosions and a fantastic send off to captivate the end of a phenomenal rock show. They'll talk about this one for awhile and I am one of the people that can say, I was there.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Did I miss a memo or something? If this is a sign that I'm getting old then honestly, I want someone to do the honorable thing and take me out behind the wood shed and put two behind my ear. I don't want to be at the point where the simple things are just going over my head.
I thought I was more or less current on the common lingo being used by your average, every-day person. But then, out of the blue, everyone started going 'FML' all the time. FML!?! FML!?!?! What the hell is FML!?!?! I am ashamed to admit it but i had to Google it to find out what the hell it meant!
So if anyone wants me to meet them out behind the wood shed, just send me a text message. Just don't ask me to bring the bullets.
I thought I was more or less current on the common lingo being used by your average, every-day person. But then, out of the blue, everyone started going 'FML' all the time. FML!?! FML!?!?! What the hell is FML!?!?! I am ashamed to admit it but i had to Google it to find out what the hell it meant!
So if anyone wants me to meet them out behind the wood shed, just send me a text message. Just don't ask me to bring the bullets.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The part that irritates me the most about tonight's little exchange is how blindingly damn obvious it was. This time of thing happens every day, to every one. We all get annoyed and we all move on. But when you see the hypocrisy, you just can't help but let it rile you.
I go to the bank. Somehow the Bank of Nova Scotia actually has customer friendly hours now. I take my cheques up there to cash. I've had some of them awhile, and my cousin had one even longer, but a cheque is a cheque, right? Hand it over and someone should cash it.
Apparently not, or so the stupid bitch on the other side of the counter was going to try and play. 'This cheque is stale' she tries to give me. Its older than six months so you can't cash it. I call bananas on that because its a soccer fees cheque and we haven't been playing that long for a cheque to go stale. I start to get into it with her, because really I don't need this kinda nonsense at the end of my day. There's no one else at the wickets at this time and another teller overhears. She politely, but reasonably firmly, corrects this miserable hag that I've gotten that her math is pathetically wrong and the cheque is still more than valid.
So we've cleared up that misnomer and we move on to the business of the day. Suddenly this sea hag notices my iron ring. Well now she's my best friend all of a sudden. We share something common (apparently her /whatever/ is also an engineer) so she has questions, and she interested in me, and wants to help. Where the hell was this three minutes ago when you wanted to screw me out of $136 because you can't count months without using your fingers!?!
I go to the bank. Somehow the Bank of Nova Scotia actually has customer friendly hours now. I take my cheques up there to cash. I've had some of them awhile, and my cousin had one even longer, but a cheque is a cheque, right? Hand it over and someone should cash it.
Apparently not, or so the stupid bitch on the other side of the counter was going to try and play. 'This cheque is stale' she tries to give me. Its older than six months so you can't cash it. I call bananas on that because its a soccer fees cheque and we haven't been playing that long for a cheque to go stale. I start to get into it with her, because really I don't need this kinda nonsense at the end of my day. There's no one else at the wickets at this time and another teller overhears. She politely, but reasonably firmly, corrects this miserable hag that I've gotten that her math is pathetically wrong and the cheque is still more than valid.
So we've cleared up that misnomer and we move on to the business of the day. Suddenly this sea hag notices my iron ring. Well now she's my best friend all of a sudden. We share something common (apparently her /whatever/ is also an engineer) so she has questions, and she interested in me, and wants to help. Where the hell was this three minutes ago when you wanted to screw me out of $136 because you can't count months without using your fingers!?!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
I would just like to take this opportunity to say that for the first time since Friday I don't really like I'm in pain. Yes, there is a bit of a twinge in the back of my head, from the remains of this headache but in the global scope of things, its minor.
And having been in rather excruciating pain this afternoon, to having mostly gotten rid of it now, I have to make note of how much pain plays a huge part in our lives. We fashion ourselves as tough, strong, can handle whatever the world dishes out people but when we're in pain it really slows us down. I can tell, as I sit here now, able to focus, able to do things, how much that headache was really wearing on me. I wish I could put a number on it but I really can't.
I was dull, thick-headed, and muddy all day. I was lethargic and unenthused. The snarling, whip-like tendrils of pain lashing at me from behind my right eye seemed like just another of the thousands of headaches I've had before. I would just ignore it like I have every one that has come previously. But it made me not want to do anything. It made me just want to lie down, in the dark, with a wet cloth around my head trying to numb the pain.
its now midnight and I'm going to go to bed, for my greater good. But for once in the very, very, very few instances I have shed a headache without going to sleep. And it has left me with a profound sense of how badly these things color my world, bring me down, and more or less ruin my enjoyment of life. I actually feed motivation right now, for the first time all weekend, and its midnight on Sunday.
And having been in rather excruciating pain this afternoon, to having mostly gotten rid of it now, I have to make note of how much pain plays a huge part in our lives. We fashion ourselves as tough, strong, can handle whatever the world dishes out people but when we're in pain it really slows us down. I can tell, as I sit here now, able to focus, able to do things, how much that headache was really wearing on me. I wish I could put a number on it but I really can't.
I was dull, thick-headed, and muddy all day. I was lethargic and unenthused. The snarling, whip-like tendrils of pain lashing at me from behind my right eye seemed like just another of the thousands of headaches I've had before. I would just ignore it like I have every one that has come previously. But it made me not want to do anything. It made me just want to lie down, in the dark, with a wet cloth around my head trying to numb the pain.
its now midnight and I'm going to go to bed, for my greater good. But for once in the very, very, very few instances I have shed a headache without going to sleep. And it has left me with a profound sense of how badly these things color my world, bring me down, and more or less ruin my enjoyment of life. I actually feed motivation right now, for the first time all weekend, and its midnight on Sunday.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Lord, do I hate summer.
I rush and I push to finish up a submission for someone that sent me an email last week. The closing line of the email was the usual, time is of the essence, and we're working hard to get this issue resolved quickly. I take this to heart. I fret and fuss about the fact that its dragging on and on and I haven't sent anything. Finally I get the numbers I need from my fabricator and then I spend a half an hour agonizing over the letter I send with the number, and the actual number. I stare at the number for awhile and try to decide, is this right?
Finally I send it off. 30 seconds later I get an email back.
"I am away until August 17"
I swore loudly! Why did I waste all this time trying to be quick about it if you're on vacation for the bloody week? Have a damn heart you clown and say, have it done by August 17, since I'm going to be away for the week. But no, he sends that utter nonsense about 'time is of the essence' blah, blah, blah. Time is of the essence but I'm gonna go sit on a boat and wipe my ass with your proposal. WAHAHAHAHA
Everyone's an butthole. Go plug yourself.
I rush and I push to finish up a submission for someone that sent me an email last week. The closing line of the email was the usual, time is of the essence, and we're working hard to get this issue resolved quickly. I take this to heart. I fret and fuss about the fact that its dragging on and on and I haven't sent anything. Finally I get the numbers I need from my fabricator and then I spend a half an hour agonizing over the letter I send with the number, and the actual number. I stare at the number for awhile and try to decide, is this right?
Finally I send it off. 30 seconds later I get an email back.
"I am away until August 17"
I swore loudly! Why did I waste all this time trying to be quick about it if you're on vacation for the bloody week? Have a damn heart you clown and say, have it done by August 17, since I'm going to be away for the week. But no, he sends that utter nonsense about 'time is of the essence' blah, blah, blah. Time is of the essence but I'm gonna go sit on a boat and wipe my ass with your proposal. WAHAHAHAHA
Everyone's an butthole. Go plug yourself.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
I really wish I didn't have this pathological need to understand. I wish I wasn't driven by this desire to grasp the forces that surround me. Maybe I could let something small like this go. But I can't, and its going to eat at me for the rest of the night.
I heard a good song on the radio today. Pure, hard rock, on Sirius Octane 20. (gag, gag)
Used - Blood On My Hands
Hey, that sounded great. I should download it. So I make a note of the title, come home, and do a search on the internet. What's 6 of the first 7 things that come up when I type in 'used blood on my hands'?
Miley Cyrus
Miley god damn Cyrus!!!
Is there no justice in the world? Can we not escape this foul urchin? Can a regular, ordinary, not interested in her hellacious, demon spawn guy not pursue his bland, inoffensive interests without being inundated by this pest? Go away Miley you beast!! Christ, I was reading a damn Giant Tiger flyer at lunch today and they had this trollop's visage plastered on tramp-wear for 11 year old's. I kid you not, it looked like slut-gear for the pre-teen set. Why can't little girl's wear rainbow's and starfish? Why does this Miley Cyrus jackass have to be plastered all over everything?
And why does she have to interrupt my search for the pure, hard rock? Go away you demon-spawn! I want nothing of your fashion shoot, or your music video. I might want your blood on my hands, but for tonight I'll settle for just the pure, hard rock of the Used rock song.
I heard a good song on the radio today. Pure, hard rock, on Sirius Octane 20. (gag, gag)
Used - Blood On My Hands
Hey, that sounded great. I should download it. So I make a note of the title, come home, and do a search on the internet. What's 6 of the first 7 things that come up when I type in 'used blood on my hands'?
Miley Cyrus
Miley god damn Cyrus!!!
Is there no justice in the world? Can we not escape this foul urchin? Can a regular, ordinary, not interested in her hellacious, demon spawn guy not pursue his bland, inoffensive interests without being inundated by this pest? Go away Miley you beast!! Christ, I was reading a damn Giant Tiger flyer at lunch today and they had this trollop's visage plastered on tramp-wear for 11 year old's. I kid you not, it looked like slut-gear for the pre-teen set. Why can't little girl's wear rainbow's and starfish? Why does this Miley Cyrus jackass have to be plastered all over everything?
And why does she have to interrupt my search for the pure, hard rock? Go away you demon-spawn! I want nothing of your fashion shoot, or your music video. I might want your blood on my hands, but for tonight I'll settle for just the pure, hard rock of the Used rock song.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
One more thing . . .
I don't know how many of you listen to satellte radio but I have a complaint. I like listening to Octane because I favor the musical selection.
However . . .
Can you PLEASE knock if off with the 'pure, hard, rock'? I mean Christ! Every second bloody phrase is 'pure, hard, rock'. I get it already, but let me tell you something. Its annoying!!! I hate the phrase. It drives me up the wall. Think of something else! You can keep using it, but spread it around. Try some other catch phrases. I like some diversity. If I hear 'pure, hard, rock' one more time I think I might impale my brain with a pencil.
In conclusion, 'pure, hard, rock' = pencil impalement
Thank you and good night
I don't know how many of you listen to satellte radio but I have a complaint. I like listening to Octane because I favor the musical selection.
However . . .
Can you PLEASE knock if off with the 'pure, hard, rock'? I mean Christ! Every second bloody phrase is 'pure, hard, rock'. I get it already, but let me tell you something. Its annoying!!! I hate the phrase. It drives me up the wall. Think of something else! You can keep using it, but spread it around. Try some other catch phrases. I like some diversity. If I hear 'pure, hard, rock' one more time I think I might impale my brain with a pencil.
In conclusion, 'pure, hard, rock' = pencil impalement
Thank you and good night
I can't help but feel melancholy tonight.
The ball hockey season has come to a close. We laid it all on the line in the final game but it just wasn't enough. No one could ever question our heart or our determination because on those counts we had plenty. But in the final analysis we simply did not have enough team skill to beat a more cohesive team. Where they could pass stick to stick, we would miss one another and would have to chase it off the boards. In the the offensive zone they would cycle it and take a point shot. We would scramble in the corner and maybe jam away at something right in front of the goal. We weren't clean, and it simply wasn't enough.
But that's not why I'm blue. I am sad because I was playing on a great team. We didn't win a lot of games but from my perspective we had a lot of fun. The team got along great, and there was good participation. The roster was 16 players and we always had 10+ for every game. Looking around the league at other teams that was pretty damn good. It was the same group of guys that came out for every game, and even though we were on the short end of most games, we still cared. Every time. They are a great bunch of guys.
I am sad because who knows what the future may bring. There are rumors of a fall league, and I am hopeful that this will prove true. I had an amazing amount of fun playing ball hockey. Even more than I could have hoped for, when I signed up for it on a whim. It would be great if the core of the same team stuck together, and we played another season. That would be amazing. But you can never tell what the future will bring. And uncertainty breeds my melancholy.
To be continued . . .
The ball hockey season has come to a close. We laid it all on the line in the final game but it just wasn't enough. No one could ever question our heart or our determination because on those counts we had plenty. But in the final analysis we simply did not have enough team skill to beat a more cohesive team. Where they could pass stick to stick, we would miss one another and would have to chase it off the boards. In the the offensive zone they would cycle it and take a point shot. We would scramble in the corner and maybe jam away at something right in front of the goal. We weren't clean, and it simply wasn't enough.
But that's not why I'm blue. I am sad because I was playing on a great team. We didn't win a lot of games but from my perspective we had a lot of fun. The team got along great, and there was good participation. The roster was 16 players and we always had 10+ for every game. Looking around the league at other teams that was pretty damn good. It was the same group of guys that came out for every game, and even though we were on the short end of most games, we still cared. Every time. They are a great bunch of guys.
I am sad because who knows what the future may bring. There are rumors of a fall league, and I am hopeful that this will prove true. I had an amazing amount of fun playing ball hockey. Even more than I could have hoped for, when I signed up for it on a whim. It would be great if the core of the same team stuck together, and we played another season. That would be amazing. But you can never tell what the future will bring. And uncertainty breeds my melancholy.
To be continued . . .
Monday, August 03, 2009
I just can't bring myself to feel bad about that game. I can bring myself to feel bad about my performance. There is a quality of lacklustre to how I am moving out there. But my team really put it on the line tonight. We threw our hearts and our souls into that game. If you wanted to base winning and losing on effort, then we win that game in a walk.
The effort was definitely there. Sometimes we sleep-walk through a game. I won't say we mail in a performance, but there have been games where our output has not matched that which was required. But that couldn't be said tonight. It was a playoff game and to a man, everyone came out to play. Our bench was a little short, but everyone played as much of a shift as they could manage. Don't get me wrong. At points guys were tired. They were walking the floor and the bodies were hurting. But when the ball came into their area, they hustled for it. When they had a chance to make a play, they tried to make a play. Not every attempt turned into a great play, but everyone tried. Every chance was chased down. Every ball was swung at. It was great to see.
We just didn't get a break. The other team, which didn't appear to resemble the team we've played four times before, was faster and stronger and more precise than us. But for all their apparent greater skill, we out hustled them. The benches on both sides were short, but when the players got tired, we still out ran them to the ball. When plays broke down in the middle, we were stealing the ball and making breaks out of it. They would get shots by setting up and cycling it around us in our end. Using precision to out-maneuver us. But when it came down to one-on-one effort, we out-shone them every time. It was pretty impressive to see.
The disappointing thing is we had to lose. I think it disheartened my team mates. We tried so hard and in the end our lack of cohesion as a team got the better of us. We were tired, and we were out manned, and we made a few rookie mistakes, that a group of guys that were used to playing with one another wouldn't make. But we're a pick-up team, and not used to playing together, and from time to time we make goofy mistakes. I made one myself tonight that cost us a goal. I ran back on defense when they had a break and got caught up defending a guy in front of our goal. Well I'm actually a winger tonight and my responsibility is to cover the point. So when I stick to the guy I shadow running back on the breakaway, I end up out of position when they set up in our end. Pass back to the point, goal for them. That's my fault.
The goal that ultimately cost us the game was the same sort of thing. We had it behind the net. Our guy is blocked to the left. He's blocked to the right. He wants to flip it high down the middle but doesn't get under it. Ends up on the stick of the opposition, right in the slot. Bang its in the net, and there's only 3 minutes of game to go. He feels awful but its just a rookie mistake that we make every game. It feels awful because we've been giving our hearts all game long.
We have another game tomorrow and this is the sudden death match. We have to win or our season is over. So if you read this, and its not 6 o'clock on August 4, 2009, come out to the Henk Ruys soccer centre in Saskatoon. We could use your support.
Go Shockers!!
The effort was definitely there. Sometimes we sleep-walk through a game. I won't say we mail in a performance, but there have been games where our output has not matched that which was required. But that couldn't be said tonight. It was a playoff game and to a man, everyone came out to play. Our bench was a little short, but everyone played as much of a shift as they could manage. Don't get me wrong. At points guys were tired. They were walking the floor and the bodies were hurting. But when the ball came into their area, they hustled for it. When they had a chance to make a play, they tried to make a play. Not every attempt turned into a great play, but everyone tried. Every chance was chased down. Every ball was swung at. It was great to see.
We just didn't get a break. The other team, which didn't appear to resemble the team we've played four times before, was faster and stronger and more precise than us. But for all their apparent greater skill, we out hustled them. The benches on both sides were short, but when the players got tired, we still out ran them to the ball. When plays broke down in the middle, we were stealing the ball and making breaks out of it. They would get shots by setting up and cycling it around us in our end. Using precision to out-maneuver us. But when it came down to one-on-one effort, we out-shone them every time. It was pretty impressive to see.
The disappointing thing is we had to lose. I think it disheartened my team mates. We tried so hard and in the end our lack of cohesion as a team got the better of us. We were tired, and we were out manned, and we made a few rookie mistakes, that a group of guys that were used to playing with one another wouldn't make. But we're a pick-up team, and not used to playing together, and from time to time we make goofy mistakes. I made one myself tonight that cost us a goal. I ran back on defense when they had a break and got caught up defending a guy in front of our goal. Well I'm actually a winger tonight and my responsibility is to cover the point. So when I stick to the guy I shadow running back on the breakaway, I end up out of position when they set up in our end. Pass back to the point, goal for them. That's my fault.
The goal that ultimately cost us the game was the same sort of thing. We had it behind the net. Our guy is blocked to the left. He's blocked to the right. He wants to flip it high down the middle but doesn't get under it. Ends up on the stick of the opposition, right in the slot. Bang its in the net, and there's only 3 minutes of game to go. He feels awful but its just a rookie mistake that we make every game. It feels awful because we've been giving our hearts all game long.
We have another game tomorrow and this is the sudden death match. We have to win or our season is over. So if you read this, and its not 6 o'clock on August 4, 2009, come out to the Henk Ruys soccer centre in Saskatoon. We could use your support.
Go Shockers!!