Journal

Fly By Morning.

2010-07-29T01:50:01Z

Tomorrow morning I'm flying out to Kingston to see my sister and my nephew.

Lately I've had this odd feeling of dread when I think about flying anywhere. This is only one of many recent irrational fears I've developed and I have no idea why.

I (used to) love flying. The uncomfortable seats, being unable to sleep, the crappy food, the shitty headphones, and the terribly re-edited films to make them family friendly. There is something reassuring about a stewardess crashing into your elbow with the beverage cart and somehow always hitting your funny-bone. Or the old people scrambling over top of you as soon as the plane takes off (the seatbelt sign are still on) to go to the bathroom.

I think Peru fucked me up. Probably something to do with the full 24 or more hours of travelling one way. Not being able to escape it even for a second. I remember enjoying it but I also remember when I got back to Canada after 4 days of crazy travelling I didn't want anything to do with an airplane for at least a month. That month has now turned to 4 months.

I'm not afraid of terrorists, getting sick, or recycled air. I think know I'm going to go despite however I feel about flying because there is something more important at the end of the road. A free trip to Ontario. Oh and my nephew.

It seems there is only one way to get over your fears. Lying in your bed in the fetal position.

Thoughts on a Monday.

2010-07-27T04:53:12Z

When did people stop telling jokes?

Seriously, when did people stop telling jokes? Remember when you could go out to any cocktail party or bbq and people would tell jokes? We all used to have our go to joke in our back pocket that we had memorized front to back. We had the comedic pauses and hand gestures down to a tee. I kind of miss hearing those same old almost corny jokes.

Today we are stuck with the anecdotes. Everyone has a funny story or mishap that has happened to them in the recent pass so we tell these long winded stories about ourselves and our friends. I know I'm guilty of this crime more so than most but I at least take solace in that you are guilty of it too.

Seriously I'm tired of hearing assholes talk about accidently signing up for a gay cruising site on the internet or being found where "hobos go to die." When will those guys learn to tell a dirty limerick.

Oh wait that asshole is me. 

Don't Rob Me.

2010-07-20T02:47:41Z

So I'm currently house/dog sitting for my parents. It means I'm not at my place with all the comforts of my place. Mainly my computer and my video games. But I do have satellite tv and a king size bed so I guess it kind of works out to my advantage.

Ketchup or Catch up.

On Friday night Rozie and Shaynebow dropped by for some BBQ action on the deck. We talked about things I think. This sobriety thing isn't helping the memory. Also Shayne spent an hour trying to figure out how much money it would take me to do the Grouse Grind with him. I might need to be heli-lifted out of the parking lot.

On Saturday I met up Jason Walsh for a photo shoot. Every musician needs a few shots to pass around. We tackled allergies, bramble bushes, thorny bushes, pokey things, and a bunch of other unpleasant things to get some great shots. I've only put one online (and it is pictured above). There are more to come once I get back home and when my portfolio is online. More on that later.

On Sunday Brian and I headed to the Comic book store. It is moving to Langford so a shit ton of stuff is on sale. I ended up picking up a few new books to read including the soon to be a tv show The Walking Dead. As well as The Sixth Gun, an X-Files/30 Days of Night crossover, and a Jurassic Park comic (I know I'm 12 all over again). I also grabbed a few records down at Ditch I've had my eye on for a while.

On Monday (today) I went to work nothing special there just regular old fashioned work.

So please don't break into my place while I am away.

Diminishing Returns.

2010-07-14T03:28:02Z

Where the fuck have I been for the last two weeks?

I could easily lie to you and tell you I was washing oil of ducks and baby turtles or I could tell you I've been on vacation somewhere in the tropics. The truth is I've been here sobering up and being plain old anti-social.

I've spent hours staring at my entry page trying to write something of interest on here. Most of the time I'd get fed up or not think it is worth while to post my thoughts on the World Cup (because it seemed like everyone did that). If you really want to know what I thought about the final match I can sum it up in one word disappointed.

I have been writing though. Just not for my blog. I'm sure I could have posted the things I've been working on to get thoughts and such on it but I'm a little self conscious about it. Many revisions have ensued. I'm not writing a book or a screenplay.

I'm hoping to get my ass in gear and keep up with this blog. Eventually I hope to be writing for here several times all working on something else that I've been dreaming and scheming up for the better part of five years. Priority right now is to keep this thing going.

And don't forget you can always ask me a question.

All Along The Watchtower.

2010-06-30T03:15:58Z

There is no getting around the fact that the G-20 Summit happened on the weekend in Toronto.

Photo Stolen from Tim Kennedy Photography
On late Saturday afternoon my tumblr feed was flooded with photos of police cars on fire, police officers in full riot gears, masked protesters smashing shop windows, graffiti saying something vaguely "anarchistic," and other forms of destruction. All this from a peaceful protest? Almost immediately I thought to myself I should be in Toronto to document this. Well at least get a few good shots to maybe sell. I also almost immediately sided with the police in their efforts to control a situation that was almost entirely out of control.

I've been to a few protests in my day. I'm not sure I fully believe in the cause but I was there and I showed my support. (I think one of them had to do with logging in BC which would later be ironic when I started working for a company that logs BC Forests.) Every protest I went to there seemed to be a 5% faction of people who were ready to take it to the next level which became clear when watching the protests in Toronto. Reminiscent of the Anti-Olympic protests in Vancouver weeks before the Games when store fronts and bank windows were smashed in downtown Vancouver. All for something that is happening whether you liked it or not.

I've always felt that you can always make your voice heard but when you start committing crimes (like setting a police car on fire or destroying the window front of an American Apparel) the people who are in a position to listen to you and help you change things will discredit your opinion. Leaving you worse off than when you started.

On Monday evening after getting home from work I saw this 10 minute video posted on twitter. That changed my mind from disliking the approach of those dirty hippy protesters to sympathizing to what was happening to them. It almost seemed like a sci-fi movie where the world is ruled by a totalitarian dictatorship sending out the Thought Police in full riot gear to silence the public. Watching the riot police move in unison, preventing any escape, and closing in on a small group of peaceful protesters. All of a sudden people who don't seem to be doing anything are sucked out by faceless officers and the wall is closed again only to open again to suck out another unsuspecting protester.

If police have the right to do this for this protest what is stopping them from doing this during other non-violent protests, strikes, post bar drunks, and concerts? This is just another strike against something I once respected. Especially in Victoria where police seem to have the authority to take a running kick at you when you are already in handcuffs.

Now I'm conflicted. Who do I believe? What side is right? What side is more in the wrong? I know the truth is never black and white but we always seem hope it is. Or at least I do when it comes to situations like this especially when it is in your home and native land.

Do I question authority or blindly follow what I'm told?

This is a Commercial.

2010-06-30T01:59:44Z

A comment, a question, a statement is enough to change your mood for a whole day.

A few years ago I worked in the shipping department of a salt mine (not really a mine) and everyday I'd come home with pockets filled with scraps of paper. Not your regular sheets of white paper and note cards but scraps of brown packing paper, corners of boxes, and other things you'd use to pack boxes of spice to ship across Canada. All these scraps of paper I'd shove in my pockets throughout the day would have my chicken scratch in blue pen or permanent black marker. All of them would have some idea, thought, or line of dialogue scribbled on them I'd thought of in the boredom of my repetitive job thinking they would be useful later. Nothing ever came of them usually I would throw the notes out later that night when I emptied out my pockets.

Recently I've decided to send myself emails in the same fashion. I'm sure it is just as easy to write myself notes on my phone but I forget about those things and they never make it to where they need to be/ Sometimes I won't read the emails for a few days or weeks but when I finally get around to it I usually just delete them. The ideas nowadays are more about works in progress and thoughts about the future. Sometimes I fine tune them and they become jokes on twitter or something to post on tumblr later that night. But again the thoughts, ideas, and other things I send myself seem to end up in the trash more often than not.

More and more I've been trying to figure out things and sometimes reading these notes to myself help me understand. Like this note to myself from a few weeks ago that rings true to my personality and that I should try to change but I have no plans to change.

"Remember it isn't my job to be happy."

It's Too Loud To Think It.

2010-06-27T08:24:53Z

"You know, they put a man on the moon
Simply to prove that we all need a place to go
Where we're not known, where we're not
And to a lesser degree"

I Watched a Magician Cut You in Half.

2010-06-22T01:51:02Z

When I was in 10th Grade Pepsi Blue was released. Carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, sugar, caffeine, and Blue 1. The later ingredient was banned in Austria, Belgium, Denmark, France, Germany, Greece, Italy, Norway, Spain, Sweden, and Switzerland at the time.

The flavour of Pepsi Blue was often compared to the taste of cotton candy or those blue fish candies you can get at the corner store. Yet the soda is seen as a commercial failure despite being a hit with middle school children. By 2004 it was dropped from production in and disappeared from the store shelves across North America.

Pepsi Blue has nothing to do with the couch I slept on this week or the fact that I've accomplished what seems to be absolutely nothing over the past two weeks.

It may explain why I ate Corn Pops for dinner but I'm sure it doesn't.

Adventures in...

2010-06-13T01:19:06Z

Peru: Part Five.

Coming into Lima's international airport you fly over a sprawling shanty town. There is a clear divide between the rich and poor in this country. I'll tell you it isn't the rich people sitting in those slot machine casinos I'd eventually see everywhere in Lima. Or the children who harassed us trying to sell us gum all night while we sat at the bar. It is a depressing fact you see pretty much almost everywhere across the world.

I collect my luggage and as soon as I'm through the Arrivals gate I'm surrounded by taxi drivers. It has been suggested by co-workers to take the Green Taxi's because they are the most reliable, cleanest cars, and generally honest. As I'm shown to a decent looking Merc by my driver I'm still being harassed and pulled by other drivers from other companies. I guess driving a fat white guy around is big business. The driver makes small talk and plays Spanish pop music while he fights traffic so thick and confusing it would make me crack. I reply as well as I can and just stare out the window at this alien city.

It seems like the Grand Road Works of Peru is women sweeping the sand off the roads. I first noticed it when I arrived in Iquitos in Alfred's moto-taxi and my wandering around the hotel area. It seems now that I'm in Lima these ladies get uniforms and special corn brooms unlike the seemingly isolated people of Lima.

I check into my hotel. I take a shower. I call the company's office in Lima. I meet up with another co-worker and go to the office. We small talk. I do a few things. I make my way back towards the hotel. I explore three blocks around the hotel and realize I haven't eaten since my plane ride from Toronto to Lima just drank beers, water, and Coke.

The hotel restaurant is on the floor above my room. It has a pretty decent view of this area of the city. I order a Coke, some mozzarella sticks and guacamole, and the most amazing veggie sandwich I've ever had in my life. I'm the only person in the restaurant. So I'm the only person who is forced to succumb to the eccentric staff and more terrible Spanish pop.

I explore the neighbourhood a little more but eventually come back to my room to take a nap. When I wake up I turn on the BBC because it seems to be the only channel in English. I'm not complaining it was exactly what I needed to watch. Unaware of what was going on in the world apart from the pictures in the Lima newspaper in my room. Eventually I repack my bags while watching 'Borat' which is in English and call for a taxi to the airport.

This taxi cab driver is fair bit more talkative than my last cab driver. I humour him and he plays english music from the 60's mixed with the crappy pop of the mid 90's. I finally make it to the airport after hearing his life story and him telling me I'm getting to old to be a bachelor. That I should really get married and have children. He seems displeased when I say I don't really want to do those things.

Once checked in, paying a ridiculous airport fee of $30, and going through security. I settle into a seat near my gate. Talk to some Canadian backpackers (one who will be on every one of my flights back to Victoria because she is from Nanaimo). Look at Duty Free and board the plane.

I sit in the emergency exit row back to Toronto and all the stewardesses know me from my trip down two days earlier. They are amazed at my turn around and bring me all sorts of treats throughout the flight just because.

I eventually fall asleep for about 15 minutes somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico. This is the life.

Adventures in...

2010-06-13T01:11:46Z

Peru: Part Four.

Alfred is waiting in the lobby when I finally stroll out of my room to check out. It's just as dark out as it was when I wandered back to the hotel a couple hours ago. The slot machine casino across the street is just as busy and full of stale cigarette smoke as it was yesterday afternoon. I could really use a beer to get rid of this nagging headache. I'm sure it has something to do with all the beers last night and the lack of sleep over the last couple days.

Eventually I throw my backpack in the back of Alfred's moto-taxi and he kicks the engine to life. He's on a mission it seems. We are going as fast as his moto-taxi will take us. At least this morning I'm wearing my glasses to keep the sand from flying in my eyes. The streets of Iquitos are starting to come to life with the rising sun and heat. The fruit vendors are setting up and the stray dogs are already begging for scraps.

When we finally get to the airport I settle my tab with Alfred and wish him the best. Inside the airport I check in and in no time flat befriend some lady German backpackers who assume I'm a backpacker and not working. We drink some Cokes and make the meaningless chit chat you learn when you are backpacking. "Where are you from? How long have you been away?" And other questions you ask to make temporary friends while you are on the road.

Thick cold smoke spills out of the plane. I'm relieved to find out it is only the air conditioning. We taxi down the runway I look out the window at the tarmac, jungle, and the company's helicopters sitting there.

By the time I can see the Amazon river and become mesmerized as I watch the world get further beneath us I've forgotten those German girls names.