Peterborough wasn't so bad.
This time I was actually there on a Saturday, when shops are open. Usually I am there on a Sunday, when church is open. I am not terribly church-y.
I scored some sweet buys. BodyGlide, as recommended by a blogger friend. Two sparkly wresting masks, which I have no plans for.... I'll either give them as gifts or use them at Halloween. They are crazy awesome. I also spent an hour in an antique store perusing their collection of vintage Playboy and Penthouse magazines, although I ended up buying a washboard instead. That store had to oddest collection of antiques, including a lunchbox in the shape of a sandwich. Probably should have bought that too.
Now I am back home and full of dim sum. We took Morty to the park and he ran his face off. We were also planning on going to see the new Transformers movie until I let it slip that I actually wasn't nuts about the last film, and now my BH is refusing to go in protest.*
So basically a normal Sunday.
I have a gig in Toronto next Saturday that I'm really pumped for, because I get to visit Shawna and wander around some of my favourite Toronto neighbourhoods. Do you live in Toronto? Come to the gig! It'll be rad.
*Although, in retrospect, I never made it a secret that I didn't like the movie.... I distinctly remember making barfing sounds throughout the screening.
So it looks like I'll be driving to Peterborough with my mom this evening, driving back tomorrow night after we've cuddled some adorable new baby cheeks brought into the world by my cousin and his wifey.
Can I be frank? I'm not the biggest fan of Peterborough. I like to wander around the downtown, but that only takes about five minutes, and then I want to leave. Once I tried to find a place that sold coffee on Sunday morning, thinking I would surprise my BH. Nothing was open.
The town is entirely the wrong size for my brain - Ottawa is GOOD small, but I tend not to enjoy cities that are any smaller than Ottawa. I like to move up in size. Montreal. Toronto. My memory of Vancouver is a bit fuzzy, but you get the picture. Although I really liked Halifax.
The fact that I have a good deal of family in Peterborough is about the only reason I don't go mental when we visit. Even then, I go a bit mental.
Luckily, I'll be staying with my sister tonight, and she has two newly-adopted kittens for me to play with. Although I grew up with cats, I've gotten very used to my giant, growly bulldog. I'll have to remind myself to be delicate with the kittens. They are not made of steel, as is Morty, and his Ass of Danger.
Oh, I will miss him this evening. He is such a cuddle bunny when he's tired.
*Stella digresses into visions of her giant, drooling puppy*
After the show, Stuart, Hawksley, myself and just about everyone else was backstage chatting. There was talk of real estate, Toronto, family, inspiration, the CBC... Stuff that made for interesting conversation.
I was nodding along, jumping in where I could. But in the back of my mind, there was a timer ticking away.
Have y'all met my dad? He's a special guy. He's worked in theatre his whole life, and he's not afraid of muscling his way backstage if he wants to chat to the folks in charge. I also needed someone to help me take all my gear home, since I am without car. As always.
This is why I knew it would only be a matter of seconds before my dad talked his way past the security guard. He would use my instruments as proof that he needed to be back there. He would probably bring my BH, who would be quietly squirming while my dad does his smooth talking. My BH prefers not to muscle his way backstage, but wouldn't deny my dad the pleasure.
I didn't doubt that my dad would show up; I was just hoping that he didn't stroll in while this great conversation was happening. How many times am I going to get to chat with folks like that? Not often, that's for sure. I was soaking it in.
Stuart finished his story, we all laughed, and then I heard it. My dad patting the security guard on the shoulder and saying, "Thanks, I'll just go in for a minute and find her!"
I just shook my head and said, "Guys, I think you're about to meet my dad."
Yes, my dad met the whole gang backstage, as did my BH. When my dad informed me that he had all the goods on the number of CDs I had sold, Hawksley looked over with wide eyes and said, "He sounds just like my dad. They should meet!"
*******************************************************
Today I'm feeling a bit worse for wear. I didn't drink much on Canada Day, but I was exhausted and still managed to stay up too late. Now I'm doubly exhausted and I don't know when I'm going to get a nap in. I may even be leaving for Peterborough after work tomorrow. Triple the tired.
To be honest, I'm feeling a bit sad. The show may have been stressful and crazy, but it was a wonderful experience. It was amazing to meet such an inspiring songwriter. It was humbling and exciting. Now that it's over, I can't help but feel that I won't be able to top it. We were listening to a Hawksley CD in the car yesterday and I got all choked up. I'm too broke to record and I can't seem to make time to write songs. It's a bummer to remember that after such a high.
I think I'll just have to focus on some aggressive grant writing, and make sure I have the space I need to keep the songs coming. If my next album does as well as my last one, maybe there's a chance I could do this sort of gigging a little more often. I love music and I'm not planning on stopping, ever. I'm going to keep working for every step forward. It's the way I've always done it, and it seems to be working.
I was nodding along, jumping in where I could. But in the back of my mind, there was a timer ticking away.
Have y'all met my dad? He's a special guy. He's worked in theatre his whole life, and he's not afraid of muscling his way backstage if he wants to chat to the folks in charge. I also needed someone to help me take all my gear home, since I am without car. As always.
This is why I knew it would only be a matter of seconds before my dad talked his way past the security guard. He would use my instruments as proof that he needed to be back there. He would probably bring my BH, who would be quietly squirming while my dad does his smooth talking. My BH prefers not to muscle his way backstage, but wouldn't deny my dad the pleasure.
I didn't doubt that my dad would show up; I was just hoping that he didn't stroll in while this great conversation was happening. How many times am I going to get to chat with folks like that? Not often, that's for sure. I was soaking it in.
Stuart finished his story, we all laughed, and then I heard it. My dad patting the security guard on the shoulder and saying, "Thanks, I'll just go in for a minute and find her!"
I just shook my head and said, "Guys, I think you're about to meet my dad."
Yes, my dad met the whole gang backstage, as did my BH. When my dad informed me that he had all the goods on the number of CDs I had sold, Hawksley looked over with wide eyes and said, "He sounds just like my dad. They should meet!"
*******************************************************
Today I'm feeling a bit worse for wear. I didn't drink much on Canada Day, but I was exhausted and still managed to stay up too late. Now I'm doubly exhausted and I don't know when I'm going to get a nap in. I may even be leaving for Peterborough after work tomorrow. Triple the tired.
To be honest, I'm feeling a bit sad. The show may have been stressful and crazy, but it was a wonderful experience. It was amazing to meet such an inspiring songwriter. It was humbling and exciting. Now that it's over, I can't help but feel that I won't be able to top it. We were listening to a Hawksley CD in the car yesterday and I got all choked up. I'm too broke to record and I can't seem to make time to write songs. It's a bummer to remember that after such a high.
I think I'll just have to focus on some aggressive grant writing, and make sure I have the space I need to keep the songs coming. If my next album does as well as my last one, maybe there's a chance I could do this sort of gigging a little more often. I love music and I'm not planning on stopping, ever. I'm going to keep working for every step forward. It's the way I've always done it, and it seems to be working.
******************************************************
PS, The show will be broadcast in October. I'll let you know the exact date when I have it!
Oh, people.
I wanted to write a big post with pictures, but alas, the pictures from last night are not on my camera. Until they get mailed to me, you will have to just imagine it. Besides, I am about to run off to do some Canada Day celebrating, so I'll have to be brief.
Last night was like the first night but 100 times more amazing. I performed better, I felt more at ease, I talked more with Stuart and Hawksley, and I sold more CDs than I have ever sold in one night. It was a transforming experience, and dudes, the audience really seemed to like it.
Also, I baked Hawksley some cookies. Hey, I figured this was my one chance to get him to remember me, and I figured that fresh chocolate chip cookies and a card with a bulldog on it are both winning ideas. It worked out very well, other than the fact that the cookies didn't rise and looked like creepy chocolaty lumps. I apologized in the card, obvs.
There was a strong blogging contingent in the crowd, including Jo, Zoom and the GC, Milan and Evey. Am I missing anyone? That was the best audience I've ever played for, and I mean it. Even my grade 7 computers teacher was there! Holy assballs!
More soon.... I am being ushered out the door. For now, beer is in order.
This is me in my fancy dressing room, which even had my name on the door. I was a nervous wreck so I took dumb pictures of my feet and my reflection. It passed the time. Eventually I noticed there was free beer, so that helped things along. You know me and free beer.
This is a blurry picture of me on the stage at the Museum of Civ. theatre. The theatre was huge. Much bigger than I was expecting, and it was sold out. I was (still) a nervous wreck for the first song, but got into my goove pretty quickly and even made fun of the lovely Stuart MacLean whilst on stage. Teasing people is the quickest way to calm me down, other than having a nice cup of tea. Stuart didn't seem to mind. He certainly seemed to enjoy my songs. He didn't really hear our sound check, so I think our live performance was the first time he really heard us play. He was so kind, and kept asking me to keep bowing because people were still clapping.
I think the audience liked it too. They hooted and everything. The sound was amazing in there, and my voice just kinda floated around like it was on a cloud. When you have a good sound guy, it doesn't matter what you do with your voice. Everything just sounds so damn yummy.
This is us backstage watching Hawksley play. I love, love Hawksley. There's something very weird about meeting your musical idol as a peer instead of as rabid fan vs. crazy genius. I felt like an imposter, frankly, but I tried to be myself and chatted away as inappropriately as I do with most people I meet. I talked about how the leather couches in the lounge looked like old skin, and Hawksley made a joke about old balls. I love joking about old balls! I felt more at ease after that. We talked about songwriting and he said he has another two albums worth of music written and ready to go. I told him I was having problems writing songs at home. He said he often needs to get away from his home to write, and that made me feel better. He said sometimes you need to remove yourself from your comfort zone to get the songs out.
Then I talked about Morty for a while, because who doesn't want to hear about a gassy bulldog? Stuart even pitched in to share some stories about his dog. Aah, animals. I love them.
These are my boys joking around in the dressing room. Jeff was doing a little dance and Brian was playing some Chet Baker. I'm so happy I got to play with these two... They are some of my favourite people.
I guess you could say that the first night was a real success. I'm looking forward to tonight's show even more, because I have a better idea of what to expect. Unfortunately it's really hard to get out to talk to people after the show... The intermission is so short and they have to strike the stage at the end of the night. If I don't get to hug all of you in person, thanks in advance for coming out to support me! I promise not to talk about old balls on stage.
That's what the blog is for, after all.
Oh, and my laptop is fixed, a cool $270 later. That means y'all get to see some pictures again!
Wow, waking up this morning felt like Christmas.
I poked my BH and said, "Hey! Wake up! The first show is tomorrow!" He responded with a "bleuuuh..." but I know he meant "That's cool, babe."
Rehearsal today was great, and I feel really good about how we'll perform when the mics are running. Everything is in three-part harmony and the boys have their bass/guitar parts hammered out. I even have my outfits picked, which (let's be honest) is half the battle.*
Now it's just the waiting. I need to get through this evening and tomorrow morning without becoming a blubbering mess. When I'm actually setting up and singing, I'll have no choice but to calm down and do my job. It's the part before that I'm worried about.
I think I'll distract myself by cooking. I've already made a nice Macedonian salad, chocolate cookies and a strawberry rhubarb grunt (much yummier than it sounds), so maybe it's time to break out some garlic roasted potatoes and marinated trout.
And maybe I'll bake a cake too.
AND MAYBE BY TOMORROW I'LL BE THE SIZE OF A WALRUS.
But anyway. That's probably just the nerves talking.
*Tight hot pink skirt the first night, crazy green dress the second night. I'll be bringing the SEXY. Or at least that's the plan.
REHEARSAL
At rehearsal last night, the clickity clackity of the fan was driving us insane. Jeff put on his engineer hat and disassembled it, fiddled with the screws, adjusted the blades, and VOILA! A quiet, cool room for our practice. Yay for engineers!
Brian suggested near the end of the night that we have an extra song prepared. I don't think we're allowed an encore for this kind of show, since it's very structured and we're all following a script, but I agreed that having a backup song was a good idea. Even just something to play in sound check.
It took me about five seconds to decide to cover a Hawksley song. It remains to be seen whether or not this is a terrible idea, but I cover his music regularly, and I love him, and damnit, I'm going to play this song in sound check. He probably won't be in the room while we're checking anyways, but it will still make me happy to break it out. Because... Dudes? I still can't believe I'm playing this gig. I may as well enjoy myself while I'm there.
MR. JACKSON
I wasn't going to talk about Michael Jackson's death... Everyone in the world is talking about it, and my brain is already getting overloaded. Still, I feel the need to say something before I lay it to rest. Hearing about the death of a musician makes me especially sad - I tend to get extremely attached to people through their art, and music is at the top for me. It's such a personal thing. I cried like a baby when Nina Simone died. Same for Elliot Smith. But with Jackson, when I read the report last night, I gasped so strongly that my throat burned, and sad there dumbly until it sunk in
I grew up largely without a TV, so a lot of popular 80s goodness was lost on me. I still knew all about Michael Jackson, of course. I thought he was one smooth dude, and I remember trying to understand how a human could move like that. My Thriller album on vinyl was a personal favourite... Thankfully, I still have it. But his increasing weirdness over the past ten years made me forget how great he was. His name had become a joke. He became the creepy old guy parents warn their kids about. It was hard to remember the good.
All these tributes to him have reminded me that he was truly the king of pop. Probably a drug-addicted king with a serious mental health problem, but a king nonetheless. It seems very strange that he's gone.
Let me tell you something cheerful about this whole crisis. When I was walking to rehearsal last night after the news broke, I heard it. House after house with open windows, and they were all playing Michael Jackson. Some were blasting it. Some playing it quietly. His songs were floating out into the street and mingling there. I walked by one house in particular that was blasting Thriller, and one lone dude was dancing to it in his living room.
What a tribute. All of Centretown came alive last night. Thanks for that, Mr. Jackson.
UPDATE: Oh! Oh! Oh! Thank God!
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