To everything there is a season

Last week as I was preparing supper I discovered a non-problem that I was making a problem. And the realization has become something of an obsession in the days since. You see, I had most of a nice meal planned. Some nice pork chops, a solid macaroni and cheese and... what for a vegetable? This is where I made a problem where there wasn't any.

You see, I had a big bag of carrots in the fridge that I knew I needed to use up. But there's this little gremlin in my brain - placed there in my youth - that says, "You can't make cooked carrots." Don't get me wrong here. I like cooked carrots just fine and the recipe I had in mind would pair quite well with the rest of the meal. But Dad didn't (and still doesn't) like cooked carrots when I was growing up so there's this weird GOTO routine that just goes around cooked carrots when the option is right in front of me. To make a long story short - I made the cooked carrots, they were excellent and I need to make them again. 

Re-examining some of these old rules and misconceptions has been a pretty big trend for me lately. I talked a few weeks ago about how I'd convinced myself I couldn't go solo, couldn't be a lead singer or that I couldn't finish a song. As soon as I challenged those conclusions, it became clear they weren't founded.

There are a few others there that have been important too. I always thought I needed to write my lyrics in a nice notebook with a pen. No sir I do not. In fact, lyric writing is very fast when I do it on my phone. I don't need a studio or expensive equipment to demo songs or record ideas. Again, my phone has been invaluable. In fact, as an overall music career tool, my smartphone has been an enormous efficiency. I've recorded videos, researched venues, kept track of my goals and managed my emails all through one device. 

In response to last week's mental health struggles, I visited my counsellor for a chat. Again, the misconceptions came up. For most of them, it was more "It's not that this didn't work - it just didn't work yet or it didn't work this time." I also found that while I was dismissing some conclusions about my own behaviour, I was finding out very quickly that maybe I should look at that closer. At the end of the session, we talked a bit about journaling. I mentioned how writing out what I wanted to talk to her about helped me put everything in perspective. The counsellor gave me some tips on journalling like how it could be one line. Like, "I feel depressed." 

But for me, the real epiphany was - it doesn't need to be in a notebook. Like with songwriting, I've convinced myself these important thoughts should be on pen and paper. Maybe some of that is my age, when I learned to write songs and journal - you did that on paper. As the internet reared its head, I moved journalling into this humble blog. But that proved to be very public and when you're writing a new song or talking about your depression, sometimes you don't want that public. So since last Thursday, I've just added to the original document I wrote with my discussion checklist and done exactly as suggested: Friday: "K made me feel anxious," Sunday: "Feeling depressed," and so on. The challenges for that will be to keep it up, occasionally journal the good things and include my body health stuff too. Rhonda has been trying to get me to journal my gout attacks and other health complaints. I can use the same document. 

The counsellor and I discussed the "seasons of life" at our session - how sometimes things start to change, we change and we need to adjust our behaviour accordingly. It's given me a lot of food for thought and I have about 3 weeks before our next session to ponder that, figure out what I want to make of it and then execute on that. But until then, I think I'm just going to spend time challenging myself whenever I say no. But also - I'm going to challenge myself when I say yes. Because there have been more than a few bad situations over the last decade that could have been avoided with a "no."

In which I'm not doing as well as I should be

The last couple of months have been crazy busy. Football, music, work, travel, and family have put me back into the "busy all the time" phase that I have not experienced since before the pandemic hit. My reaction to it has been positive—or at least I wish it was positive. 

I want to be happy about it. Life is short and staying inside feeling sorry for myself isn't a good way to use that limited time. But this weekend as I worked to finish up the last of my responsibilities to Jonas' football team, it became very clear that my anxiety was through the roof and that I was NOT doing ok at all. 

Now this doesn't come without real-world reasons. Rhonda was out of town so in addition to trying to manage the final moments of the football season and work on my music stuff, I was also the sole parent cooking, giving rides, and caring for the dogs all while trying to pull off a party for 45 people. By Saturday afternoon I realized that my blood was pins and needles and I couldn't get a good deep breath of air. 

At least this wasn't my first rodeo so I knew what was up - and somehow I had to manage that alone. Thankfully, the Navigator did a great post recently discussing his own challenges so I tried some of the things he was doing. But alas, I could not sit still to meditate (I felt full of adrenaline), couldn't find help around me and I generally just decided to strap in and just try and get through the weekend. Surely once the football stuff was done and Rhonda was back it'd all be good?

Wrong. 

It took something as simple as forgetting my coat at the venue where we did the football wrap-up to put me over. I didn't sleep all night obsessing over the jacket. 

Fret not dear reader, I'm taking some good steps to help. I am privileged, and for this scenario, I'm happy to lean on that privilege to get the help I need. I've booked myself in to see a councillor on Thursday and as an extra treat - I'm taking the day off to sleep in, maybe play some songs and have a nice long walk in the park. 

I've also had a serious talk with Rhonda about those feelings and asserted that I would not be participating in the social plans she has for the weekend. I think she's a bit disappointed but it's a damn sight better than me having a "menty B" at someone's party. Honestly, I need to get better at asserting my place sometimes and saying no when I don't want to go to a stupid party or hang out with people I don't really hold love or interest in. I mean Jesus, I went to a fucking art gala a couple weeks ago. What the hell was that about? 

Half of me wants to be thankful that we have resources around these days to help us deal when life gets stressful. But also, why is life so goddamn stressful? That's a subject that could fill a library I suppose. But there's a big part of me that just wishes life was less stressful so I didn't NEED to access mental health support. Frankly, I hate even having to think about it. I wanna be writing songs, maybe fixing my roof or playing with the dog. But instead, I gotta go have a chat with a stranger about why I spent last night wondering what the easiest way to get ketamine was. 

How does one conclude a post like that? I dunno. Life's a lot, I'm dealing with it and hopefully next Monday I'm laughing at my weak-ass, out of balance brain. If not, maybe next week is "Pilot's World on Location from the Psych Ward!"

 

Peeled the Onion

Last week I spent some time  prolestysising about goals and timelines for the comedy music thing. I don't know if it was just the talking it out but let's say I made some faster progress than I promised. 

Yeah I finally pulled off the bandaid and hit the stage. 

In "5 Tight Minutes", Stu Cassel really champions performing live. Get on stage and get on stage early. I wanted to give myself a good run up time since I needed to get some songs together and rehearse. But a strong deadline was important. That's said, I was getting worried that I was taking too long. 

I met my old work friend, Gilly, for coffee last week and we talked about the music we were playing and The Cure open mic. Before we were done, I'd committed to bringing the guitar out. 

A kick in the ass ain't a bad thing. Within the week not only have I committed to that performance but I'm also making a plan to hit one Nov 13 in Saskatoon (hear that Navigator?) and I'm going to apply for my first real gig before the end of the week. That could have me playing my first real gig as early as December. 

Shit moves fast. 

The fact is I have the material I need to get started and I've known my first steps a long time. So let's run. 

The vibe at The Cure is always impeccable and the Open Mic was immaculate. I ended up performing near the end of the night, third from last. 

I'm super happy with the set. I played "Guitar Picks and Pocket Knives" and "Fucking Fridge". People loved that last one. 

So yeah. Off and running. Holy crap.

Big thanks to Gilly for supporting me and coming out to cheer me on. He also took that photo of me at the top. Cheers bud!

State of the onion

Back in July, I hinted that I wanted to start a new humour music project. It's been three months since I made that commitment so it's a good time to take stock, review what I've achieved and clarify my goals for the next three months.

Taking on a project like this comes with so many challenges and tasks. One of the earliest things I did to kickstart the project was to start a Google Document called "Humour Project". I have it broken down into categories including:

• timeline/goals, 
• songs I've written, 
• songs I need to finish, 
• ideas for songs, 
• venues,
• photo/bio ideas
• one-liners/heckles and banter
• instrumentation ideas
• merch ideas

Many sections aren't filled in yet and others are a mess but it's nice to have everything in one place and easy to find. Well mostly - I'll get to that part next. The idea of having a master document to work off of came from advice I saw in a reel by Thor, often known as Pirate Software on YouTube. The man is simply full of wisdom but his recommendation to have a design document if you're going to make a game was similar to many strategic planning documents I've done in the past and even if it's rough and disorganized, what I have is better than nothing and can always be improved and referenced. It's done wonders to keep myself accountable. 

This morning I caught this great video about Prince's work ethic. The video talks about what we as artists can learn from how Prince made his music broken down into six lessons we can learn from the man in purple:

1. Work fast
2. Become a finisher
3. Abandon perfectionism
4. Make art every day
5. Sleep and
6. Have a vault mentality

The first four lessons were all things I'd already been working on. I needed to shake a lot of my misconceptions about how I made music and what I sound like to make this project progress. I've done really well with those things, resulting in some really satisfying results, like this fun little song I posted last Friday. Or even the video I did for Pizzamas last week. Sleep and rest are aspects I'll need to keep in mind but not a concern right now.

The vault mentality lesson is one that I've naturally been doing a bit of but in watching the video, I realized I need to be more purposeful about it. To the point that I think I need to add it to my project design document. The argument in the video is that Prince wasn't so much working on being famous or making money as he was building his legacy. To have a legacy, you need to have an archive or a vault to collect and store your work. 

I've been doing this a bit. Not so much to create a legacy as much as just to try and organize the heap of ideas I have and make them accessible. Over the past three months, I've set aside about an hour a week to get my Google Drive in order and put lyrics and demos together. It's far from where it needs to be and I have plenty more I want to do. This video reinforced the importance of that work and I think I might bump up my vault work time a bit every week - at least until I have everything working the way I want it to. I still need to figure out how to make my phone automatically back up my demos onto my Google Drive. 

Creation-wise, I've been doing extremely well. I have about 7 songs that are basically done, and I've chosen two to develop into a "tight 5 minutes." I've had November 4 circled on my calendar for weeks, that is the date I want to head over to The Cure and play at the open mic. Go play my 5 minutes and see how people respond. From there, I want to hit a separate open mic in the following 2-3 weeks at a different location to try the same set. Beyond that, I'd like to hit up The Cure again before the end of the year with a second set of new material, repeat at another open mic and so on. 

I'm frankly shocked at how prolific I've been. Sometimes it's in spurts of little song snippets, sometimes it's entire songs flowing out in an hour or so. With a strong set of goals and a developing vault, I've been able to turn these snips into songs. While I'm only at 7 fully written tracks, I don't think I'd be exaggerating much to say I've got about 50 ideas in various stages that will become something in time. Being prolific like that is nice for the ego but it also means I'll have a lot to choose from - and a lot to throw away - as I move through this. 

There are many things I still need to nail down. I don't exactly know what name I want to brand this project under. I've gone through a few including my usual nickname Pilot or trying to use a name I've always had around, The Spurge. The one I've landed on so far and will probably use on Nov 4 is just the monomer "Jeremy". It's an awkward, stupid name with some meme history. It does tend to bump into the Pearl Jam song, but maybe I can use that to my advantage. 

I'm also working on the supplemental instrumentation for this project and I can't quite decide how to roll it out. I'll be using the kazoo as my "lead" instrument but I'm not well practiced yet and I can't quite figure out how I'll play it while also playing guitar. I have an around-the-neck harmonical holder and I've also thought of building some kind of clip to go on a mic stand. The jury is still out on that one. I think I'll do the first few performances without it until I have a bit more confidence. I've had a few other instrument ideas that I hope to incorporate in time too. 

Finally, I've done well carving out the time for this and finding space to do it in. I haven't been able to do exactly what I've envisioned but I'm really happy with my tenacity. I find time every day or so to practice, organize and learn. I've started taking lessons and this weekend I tried out using one of the Regina Public Library's studios to do some practicing and writing. 

Overall, I'm shocked at how well all of this has gone. I don't know why I'm shocked, nothing I'm doing or planning is outside of my talent, ability or experience. I think the biggest reason is that I had built up all of these misconceptions about myself: I can't finish a song, I can't play solo, I don't know how to play guitar and sing, I'm not funny, I can't sing, I can't... and on and on. Once you stop worrying about what you can't do and focus on what you can, things all of a sudden open up in front of you. I've felt so positive and used this as a springboard to connect with friends, be creative, boost my ego a bit and feel like I'm actually doing something. 

Something for me. 

I could go on and on but this post is long enough for today I suppose. Hopefully, I can post a bit of a review or post-analysis of my first live performance in a couple of weeks. And of course, if this keeps working for me, I'm sure there will be plenty more to say here as time rolls on. 

Folk off

As someone with a deep-rooted obsession with music, the concept of musical genres is always a part of the conversation when I talk about music. But the deeper you dive into the concept of genres, the more you realize how much of a human construct they are. 

I'm not just talking about the granular dissection of a genre like Heavy Metal (Medieval Electronic Swedish Christian death-core anyone?), but how two songs by the same artist can sound vastly different and yet be categorized in the same genre. Or, on the other hand, how two very similar songs can be categorized differently because of the approach of the artist or just the environment where it was built. I think that is why no one can figure out if Motorhead is a metal or punk. Or why AC/DC is a metal band and not a punk band. 

Putting music into groups does have its benefits. It helps artists get their work into the hands of consumers who will be interested in it and helps listeners choose the music that best fits their mood or surroundings. When The Navigator and I broadcast The Cockpit, I'd often describe what we played as "anything that falls under the rock genre." That's a pretty broad statement that could run from the early blues-rock of Chuck Berry, thrash metal or even folk rock. And it still doesn't completely capture what the show was about or what we were trying to do. But it at least put people in the right ballpark. 

One of the genres that has always been at odds in my head is folk music. On the surface, there's really not a lot to be concerned about. Most people have a pretty good grasp of what folk music is - generally played on an acoustic guitar or other acoustic instruments, good vocals, usually strong harmonies and the subject matter is typically geared towards the working person, maybe including protest or storytelling as the subject matter. Songs you can sing around the campfire kinda stuff. 

But when you look at the history of the genre, it all ties back to music for the folks. Stuff you would sing and perform with your friends and family - literally that "around the campfire stuff." Not complicated and approachable - stuff you sing together. And this is where this genre name and definition fall apart for me. 

So let's look at some of those key definitions in point form for clarity. Folk music is:

• Music you can perform and participate in with friends, family and community
• Music that is easy to perform
• Music that tackles subjects important to the everyday person including poverty, politics and storytelling.

So is rap music or punk music folk? Those genres meet the criteria. Is Bruce Springsteen a folk singer? We might say he's rock n' roll but his subject matter seems awful folky and songs like "The Ghost of Tom Joad" are solidly folk tunes. 

Now obviously, when we say "folk music," we're trying to describe that acoustic/vocal style. And I'm not trying to change the world there. Call it "Kumbaya Music" for all I care, I understand that people are just trying to describe that particular thing. I think I'm just looking for a way to describe music for the people. Music that isn't made because there's money but because there's something to say. Music that connects people. Music that's more at home around the campfire or in a shitty pub than it is in an arena or festival. 

So what the folk am I talking about?

Well, I guess I'm just trying to say that sometimes we need to step back from genres, categories and labels and look at what the music does to people - how people use it. Rap, punk and folk might all sound like completely different things but they all do serve a similar purpose. I don't think it's a coincidence that people consider Woody Guthrie the first punk rocker. 

What the folk do you think? Leave me a comment 

Happy Pizzamas!

A very happy Pizzamas! 

What the heck is Pizzamas? Well, I'm relatively new to the movement and if you look it up you'll mostly find that it doesn't really mean anything. But stuff does happen during Pizzamas. 

At its core, Pizzamas is a 2-week celebration of very old internet inside jokes, John Green with a moustache (called "Pizza John") and raising money to reduce or eliminate maternal mortality. I'm on board just to buy a shirt that says "Pizza", supports artists and helps babies who need the support. But add bad nerd jokes and an excuse to make pizza and I'm here. Overall, it's a couple of weeks celebrated by Nerdfighteria, championed by the Vlog Brothers, John Green and Hank Green. 

One of the challenges the Green Brothers give themselves during Pizzamas is to post daily like they did in the days of old. While the re-launch of Randomjunkification and Pilot's World is inspired by the Vlog Bros. I really wasn't in the mood to blog every day this week. But I did want to challenge myself a bit. 

I've been toying with a song called "Punk Rock Pizza Party" over the last few weeks and I figured, getting a demo of the song down for Pizzamas would be a good challenge that would help me get the song into some kind of finished form and observe one of the fun parts of Pizzamas. 

It's a bit rough, there are a few lines that need to be rewritten but overall, I'm happy to show you a brand-new song. Here is "Punk Rock Pizza Party".

Originally, I'd hoped to integrate some of Hank Green's jokes into the lyrics. I hoped to make it a bit more collaborative and bring some of that Pizzamas feel to it. Not to mention since I'm trying to do a humour music project, I needed some jokes to work with. 

There were plenty of jokes in the first draft of the lyrics, but it was super awkward. I did a full rewrite of the lyrics and they make way more sense now, but they're really not that funny. Maybe a bit silly. 

Some Pizzamas stuff did survive though. I've got a great reference to "None pizza with left beef" from The Sneeze and I've included one of Hank's jokes in the form of the "no matter how you slice it" line. Unfortunately, the lyric doesn't fit very nicely in the melody there. 

Hey, it's a demo, there's lots of work to do yet. I'd love to play this one with a full 3-piece band and some gang vocals. Maybe someday! 

Hope you enjoyed and Happy Pizzamas! 

Reconciliation

 When the Truth and Reconciliation Commission issued its 94 Calls to Action in 2015, I immediately began pondering what my role should be in Reconciliation. At the time, I was just starting as a volunteer host at CJTR (discussed in a post earlier this year). It was immediately obvious that I had a platform I could use to amplify Indigenous voices and share some kick-ass music from some kick-ass people. So I declared then and there that I'd work hard to include an Indigenous performer in every playlist. I can't say I was successful, but I did try hard, I learned about a ton of great music and I think I managed to spotlight some great music. 

It's been nearly 4 years since The Cockpit came in for its final landing but the pipelines I'd built to find new music and expand my horizons are still there. I still hear about amazing stuff all the time - I just haven't had that big platform to share them on anymore. 

Last week, I had a great hit from one of those pipelines in the form of a cool article from CBC Indigenous about Indigenous punk music and the scene that's existed for decades. While the article (and accompanying podcast) is more tailored to groups from the United States, there is still a Canadian connection there. As I chased down all the new paths this article (and the Instagram account it discusses) opened up for me, the BC scene really seemed to blossom.

Of course, this isn't my first foray into Indigenous punk. I've been a fan of Dead Pioneers for a long time and there are a few bands from around Turtle Island that I've listened to, gone to shows and talked to. Always great people, and always have important things to say.

But punk music, rock music or in general the music I listen to isn't the only way I've connected with Indigenous people through music. I went to the Roughrider/Redblacks football game this weekend with Jonas. The game celebrated the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation and I was really taken by how good the drum performance was before the game. The Wooden Face Singers filled Mosaic Stadium with a moving tribute to those who have passed on and I realized how much my appreciation for Indigenous drumming has grown. I'm getting good at telling the difference between a good group and one that needs some practice!

There was a time, early in my music career, when I really wanted to integrate drumming into a song (or many songs). I felt (as I often still do) that I didn't have a strong cultural background to identify with and wanted to find a place in the culture of the people who are native to Canada. I've grown a lot since that time and I understand that those desires amount to cultural appropriation - in a very real way. I wanted to use their culture to define mine. And that's not right. 

But there's part of me that still hasn't given up on the idea. I DO appreciate drumming, it's strong, emotional and connected to the land. It's closer to me and the life I live than any French or Swiss traditions that might actually make up my DNA. But I would approach it from a completely different angle. I hope someday that I make a strong connection with an Indigenous artist and they want me to contribute some of my culture while they contribute their own. In the spirit of reconciliation, I hope someday to make music TOGETHER instead of TAKING and make something great that everyone can enjoy.

But until then, have a good Truth and Reconciliation Day. I hope you find a way to walk along the path with people in your community. 

Chuck Berry - Rock God and Madman

 Leaning into developing and producing a solo musical project over the last few months has been a very satisfying use of my spare time. I'm realizing that I had built up a wall of misconceptions about myself during my musical journey and knocking down some of those misconceptions has shown me a vista of possibilities that I simply wasn't seeing before. 

As happens with so many creative projects, my inspiration and skill have hit a plateau over the last few weeks. I'm still picking up the guitar and playing my heart out but it really feels like I'm just using the same bag of tricks over and over again. In an effort to bring myself some new skills and inspiration, I signed up for my first-ever guitar lessons.

FIRST EVER?! Yeah. I've never taken lessons to play bass or guitar. I've learned plenty from friends and fellow bandmates, learned to play by ear very early and I've used countless books, followed by websites to learn new skills, theory and songs. But I've never like paid someone to show me how to hold my hands. I'm stubborn and cheap. 

In a fascinating alignment of the stars, one of my favourite YouTube guitarists, The Samurai Guitarist from Winnipeg, posted a really great video called "This sounds UNBELIEVABLY cool (seems IMPOSSIBLE)". In the video, he examines this weird triple bend thing as performed by western-style picker Jerry Donahue. Sammy G. breaks down why this little trick is so amazing then proceeds to break down the "riff" and show his struggle over the course of about a week as he practices the trick. His level of guitar nerdom over this little riff spoke to me. As someone who's worn off fingertips and split off all my fingernails trying to master Victor Wooten tricks I totally got it. And showing that week of struggle and effort illustrated what it takes to figure that stuff out. It's a lot but really - a week of practice is totally achievable for anyone that wants to play. 

Perhaps it's no coincidence then that he also had an advertisement for his new Samurai Guitar Dojo in the video. At $7.50 a month - it's a steal of a way to build some new skills. I was sold. Plus who doesn't want to be trained by a samurai? I'm already sharpening my shuriken for week 4.

The first set of lessons focuses on how to solo using blues double stops. As Sammy G. notes, this kind of soloing is probably best heard played by Chuck Berry or by Keith Richards from the Rolling Stones. While I've been doing ok learning the technique of it all, I was feeling like my improvisation was falling a bit flat so I went out on a search for some Chuck Berry songs to inspire me. I could have gone with the 'Stones but I don't like Mick Jagger and now that Charlie Watts has died, there's no one good left in the band. 

So Chuck Berry it is.

While I don't think I'd ever describe myself as a super-fan of Chuck Berry, I've always loved his music and I mourned his passing in 2017 alongside the rest of the rock-and-roll world. 

By the time I was born in 1981, Chuck's best work was long behind him and he was firmly entrenched in the nostalgia circuit. But as a kid who came of age in the 80's and 90's, Chuck Berry was very much there. From Back to the Future to the Beethoven movies, not to mention the rest of his amazing catalogue on constant rotation on one of my favourite radio stations, CHAB in Moose Jaw, Chuck Berry's music was always on the radar. 

But I'd never really done a deep dive into Chuck and hadn't taken the time to relax and watch him play live. He's a madman (which if you read his bio... yeah). My favourite performance was from very deep into that "nostalgia circuit" and was a performance he put on at the BBC studios in 1972 backed by Rocking Horse. The very first song in the set is "Roll Over Beethoven". It starts off normal enough, he approaches the mic, starts the song and just seems like a pretty relaxed guy doing a spot-on performance of one of his biggest hits. But then the solo hits and my GOD you can see him crack. Like his sanity drains out. Have a gander:

That stare he gives the piano player is kinda chilling. 

Of course, Chuck always had the best solos. They're not complicated, and as I'm working through these lessons, I'm seeing that they really are just a few simple elements. But he PERFORMED. There's a very old clip from 1958 in Belgium where he performs "Johnny B Goode" during his prime. He plays the notes with his fingers but he performs the solo with his legs and feet. Crazy.

So has my soloing improved? No. Not really. But I did learn that I just need to be ok with the fact that I've only been given the first couple of tools and that there's more to come. I mean I'm only soloing on the A chord so far. In a couple days, I get to see what I can do with the E and the D! So there's plenty of room to improve! 

But I've a fresh appreciation for Chuck Berry and I realize more clearly than ever how everyone who's come since, all of us who have done anything that's an offshoot of pure rock n' roll are just copying Chuck. There's a little Chuck in everything we do. 

*** I'm fully aware of Chuck Berry's problematic history of sexual assault and violence. I acknowledge that many people may have been hurt. I also acknowledge that as a black man in the 1950's, the world was looking for a way to knock him down a few pegs. Like so many cultural icons who we would later learn were kinda shitty in their everyday life, I struggle to come to terms with both sides of this coin. I will say that unlike many of the people we've seen "cancelled" over the last decade, Chuck Berry did time in prison and served his debt to society. It doesn't forgive anything and we must all look at this through both lenses. I will appreciate and understand his contributions to culture, but I will not celebrate his abuse. 

Reflecting on history during an unusual anniversary

They say one of the hallmarks of being a Millennial is that this particular generation has lived through repeated "world-changing" events. Since I was born in 1981, I sit right on the cusp of Generation X and Millenials - I like to say that my cultural tastes are Gen X but my bank account is solidly Millenial. No matter which generation you wrap me in, I've seen supertall skyscrapers fall, stock markets crash, journalists beheaded, lived through a pandemic and as we speak - watched the beginning of the fall of Western democracy. 

Last Wednesday marked the 23rd anniversary of the September 11 attacks - the first of those paradigm-shifting events that I would witness in my adult years. Twenty-three years ago I showed up for work in my first week of training at the Sears Call Centre in Regina Saskatchewan. As I walked through the office on the 4th floor that morning I overheard people around the office talking about airplanes hitting the World Trade Center, and another plane hitting the Pentagon and thinking to myself, "What movie did they see last night?" My innocence only lasted maybe another minute before I reached the training room and learned what had really happened. 

Everything changed. We all knew it then and looking back on it 23 years later, we can certainly see it now. This morning I watched a YouTube video called "a deep dive into the impact of 9/11 on pop culture" that highlights the struggles and changes we all saw then. I remember the discussion of humour and "how soon" being an ongoing conversation after but it also reminded me of the censorship and whitewashing that happened afterwards. Movies that had been made years before the events that may have even incidentally featured the WTC had the buildings removed. It's as though the terrorists didn't just destroy the buildings in New York, they somehow erased them from history. 

But while we all swore to "never forget", like all things, in time the memory of the events of that day faded and for many of us who weren't in New York that day - life went on. Even if it had changed. 

But it all came back for me earlier this year when I was led to National Geographic's phenomenal documentary on that day, "9/11: One Day in America". It features interviews with people who were in the building, around the building and in New York that day. It leans heavily on the film shot by Jules Naudet on the day, a film I had seen before but never understood had been taken by one person and followed a single fire chief from the very start of the event when the plane hits the first tower until after it had fallen. 

Somehow, 23 years later, this documentary was almost more horrific than the initial events. At least it re-surfaced the trauma of that day and taught me some of the horrors experienced by the people involved in a way I'd never heard of. Stories of people encountering still-alive passengers from the planes (albeit barely), the shocking experiences of people who watched the plane hit from inside the building and the horrific bravery of the firefighters and police officers who started climbing the steps, fully aware they'd never walk back down them. 

It makes me realize that those of us outside of New York (and indeed Washington) had been insulated from the day. We had the truth censored, usually out of respect for the victims, but maybe also so we could continue on. We all know about the jumpers and we've seen photos and videos of them falling - I've never seen them land and never want to. But in the documentary, you can hear them land - and that's horrible enough. And sometimes we didn't learn because we really didn't know - some of these stories have taken years to surface. 

And maybe I just chose to see it through a lens. Being thousands of miles away, in a different country with different experiences, maybe I chose to only see the parts that served me. Like many, I watched those events and my first question was, "What did the U.S. do to cause someone to respond like this?" Nothing that happened that way was just but it's also clear that people don't perform suicide attacks on office workers if they're being treated well. I don't buy into conspiracy theories about Bush doing 9/11 - but I also don't buy the narrative that the U.S. is an immaculate house on a hill - an argument that's much easier to make in 2024 than it was in 2001. 

But we all have a lens. One of the repeated statements from eyewitnesses and victims of that day is about how gorgeous a day it was. Clear blue skies - no cloud in sight. But that's not my memory of the day. I watched the attacks and the buildings collapse on an old TV with bunny ears picking up the broadcast of a local station. The reception was terrible and the images were mostly in black and white which caused the sky to look grey and depressing. Even after 23 years of seeing full-colour photos of the day, my mind still remembers a cloudy morning. 

I've never been to New York, but that city has constantly touched my life. Television, music, movies and world history have all happened in the Big Apple and been broadcast to the world. Twenty-three years after this attack, we still see the effects - both negative and positive - throughout our culture. I often wonder if the terrorists knew just how far-reaching their attack would be both geographically, socially and through time. I suppose it doesn't matter what they intended, it happened it is for us to react, respond and remember. 

"He never goes anywhere"

I've been trying to write a song over the last few weeks about how I never travel. It's got some good musical elements but lyrically, there's not a lot there to work with yet. The downside of discussing not doing something is that there's no experience to talk about. But this weekend I took a trip to Toronto and brought my notebook should any inspiration come up. 

We arrived in Toronto on Saturday morning and were immediately picked up by my sister Michelle who whisked us off to Burlington to watch my niece, Adelle, do some cheerleading before zipping off to Niagara Falls. Why was Michelle so committed to taking me to the falls? Well, I've never been so that's something but it came out while we were there that Mom instructed her to take me because, "He never goes anywhere." 

Touche. 

But it's true. I rarely go far, most of the time it's just camping. Or if I do go somewhere it's for work. I mean - I flew to Winnipeg to see Tool last year and saw Queens of the Stoneage in Saskatoon. That's something, right? 

The Niagara Falls are very cool but only for about 30 minutes. I'm glad it was tacked on to another trip because I would have felt bad going all that way to be delighted for just a little while. We also had a grand time at a winery where my newfound teetotalling made me a punching bag for the winery staff. But the cheese guy loved me. 

Visit my Instagram post about this day.

Sunday was concert day. We spent much of the day zipping around downtown Toronto, pretending to grab the CN tower, navigating TO's horror of a transit system and visiting with the rays at Ripley's Aquarium. 

The show was amazing featuring three bands I hold on a pedestal; Dinosaur Jr., The Flaming Lips and Weezer.

Dinosaur Jr. was one of the bands I was most excited to see and strangely, the one I've listened to the longest. The song "Out There" was featured on the Wayne's World soundtrack, my first CD, and while many would find it to be discordant and maybe a bit weak vocally, I was in love then and I was in love again on Saturday. My biggest complaint is that they only played 25 minutes. Don't drag a band that far just to make them play a short set. I'm going to try and see them again someday. 

After the pandemic and the difficulties that hit the live music industry, I had convinced myself I'd never see the Flaming Lips live. They are a special band to me, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots is one of my favourite albums and "Do You Realize" was the song Rhonda and I chose for our first dance at the wedding. The Flaming Lips were beautiful live, the harmonies were even more layered and gorgeous than the albums. I spent much of the performance weeping and wishing for better seats. 

The set for Weezer wasn't that new. We'd seen them in Saskatoon in 2017 (Saskatoon, South Africa according to the typo on the concert t-shirt I bought). The set this time covered the same ground. The difference was the very theatrical production. It took the whole show to another level. There's nothing more fun than watching awkward nerd musicians trying to act. Plus any chance to hear the Blue Album live is a good one. I hope to repeat this trip in a couple years when Pinkerton hits its 30th anniversary. 

Thanks to a very late departure from Pearson, we also had much of Sunday to run amok in the '6. We spent the day on and around Queen St, checking out the pretentious shops, visiting the endless Graffiti Alley and Rhonda even managed to get a pole dance class in during the afternoon. A wonderful hour I spent watching squirrels in Trinity Belwoods Park. 

Overall - a massive success of a trip. We packed a lot of good times into those three days, I've only really scratched the surface between this post and the Instagram posts about the trip. It's hard to wrap up the chaos, the new sights and everything that happened. I can say for sure that this old hayseed had a great time in the Golden Horseshoe. And this old hayseed is glad to be back somewhere familiar where he can run with some of the inspiration derived from the weekend. 

I do want to highlight how amazing it was to share the weekend with Rhonda. It was a "birthday, Christmas, anniversary and promotion" gift and while I wish we didn't need a reason, I'd take one good trip with her over a dozen presents any time. Our adventures are rare but they're epic and the memories of this trip won't soon fade.