Blue Rodeo Posse Strikes Again with Kid Cuddy :) and MKOK

Up On That Cloud - Blue Rodeo

I think that by the end of this post, the song selection will make a lot of sense to those who ponder such things. And if you are so inclined you can check back at a later date for the posting of pictures to go with this story.

From the time that I moved from Ontario to the East coast of this great country, I knew that I would be back to visit. But the dates were up to me, so I chose to come at a time that I could see an awesome concert, oh yeah and spend some time with my adult children and their significant others while I was here.

There are many things that unite this vast county from coast to coast and from triumph to tragedy. Terry Fox from British Columbia who gave us the Marathon of Hope to the recent slaughter of 3 RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) in the small eastern community of Moncton, New Brunswick. And music. From Stompin' Tom Connors and Matt Mays in the east to Bachman Turner Overdrive and Matthew Good in the west. And for 25+ years, live from every corner of Canada, Blue Rodeo. 

A true band for the people. Blue Rodeo made a name for themselves by playing the small towns and out of the way hockey arenas when they could clearly sell out larger venues. There is greater opportunity to connect with your audience if they rock out at your feet rather than if they are just a face in the darkened crowd of a stadium. Not that they don't play and sell out larger places like Massey Hall in Toronto and Metro Centre in Halifax, because they do. The Blue Rodeo family of fans (or Crazies) are a dedicated bunch and follow the Blue Road wherever they may travel. For me, never before have I cultivated such strong friendship by just having the love of Blue Rodeo in common. 

Debra is my Blue Rodeo buddy. We met by fate as winning guests to see Blue Rodeo perform on Canada AM. I didn't want to go alone, she was worried that she didn't get her official confirmation. The weather wasn't good, the drive to the studio in the early hours of the morning were concerns. We were one - two in line and became fast friends despite the odds of either one us not attending was great. I've met other people at concerts but the Blue Rodeo bunch is a dedicated crowd like nothing I've seen before. You've got your contingent that love Jim Cuddy and go to drool and curse his wife (lol), or the rugged introspection of Greg Keelor chewing gum as he sings, you've got some who have formed an attachment because the catalogue of songs has been defining moments in their lifetime. I'm too old to say my lifetime, but I will say my adulthood. I've been a fan from the first release 25 years ago..  

Blue Rodeo has been playing a small community venue for nearly 20 years and I have attended since hearing about it three years ago. The story is told, that in the beginning a member of the management team knew someone in the town and the gig was booked as a fundraiser (and still is for the local group that hosts the event). Tickets are limited and sell out quickly. The small hockey arena is 1/3 stage and the rest for people. We plan to arrive very early so that we can stand and savour the music from front and centre for the entire performance. Bus-loads of people arrive from surrounding areas and some hire limos. Security is tight and spirits are high. 

The artwork on the tickets is absolutely beautiful and are a treasured keepsake. We were fortunate to meet Karen who offered to get us one of the advertising posters that mimic the tickets. Chuck, went to the local Home Hardware for us so we wouldn't have to leave our coveted front of the line spot and came back with three. One for Debra, myself and our new friend Lynn. Thanks to them both for their thoughtfulness. I love it. 

By the time the doors opened we had met some of the members of the opening band, My Kind Of Karma and were more than a little excited. I did a little happy dance being the first one into the arena and with a wristband affixed rushing the stage. Hugging that rail, we become a family. Total strangers ask you to close ranks while they go to the washroom and you happily comply knowing they are as dedicated as you are. 

It turns out that last years opening act Who's Army has disbanded with various members pursuing other avenues. It's unfortunate, I really enjoyed them when we heard them the previous years. So this year we heard, My Kind of Karma from British Columbia. Many of the members are originally from the Southern Ontario area where they attended school and  re-connected on the West to make music and a name for themselves. Do yourself a favour Kelowna and check them out at a bar near you. They don't play a pigeon hole style of music but rather a pleasing mix of rock/folk/reggae. I knew it was going to be different when I saw a ukulele and a banjo on stage. One song and I was hooked. The music, the words, the harmony and band members, they had karma and they shared with the audience. I look forward to adding the CD I purchased to my i-Pod. 

I had heard earlier that Devin Cuddy had suffered an injury playing hockey but I had no idea how bad it was. It became quite clear when a fifth member joined the quartet and sat at the seat of Devin's keyboard. And Devin holding his right hand in an invisible sling was braced and sore looking. He had surgery the day before and yet he was here to entertain us! I appreciate his dedication as I was really looking forward to hearing him and his band again. They are amazing. Nichol Robertson on electric guitar can really make it sing, he is so talented, as is Devon Richardson on the bass. From the first time I saw Zach Sutton on drums, he made me smile. I am transfixed by the expressions on his face when he beats those skins. But Devin himself looked lost and lonely on that stage, singing while someone else tickled the ivories. It was good though, because you really got to appreciate the man and the vocals on a different level with him standing so vulnerable in front of us instead of seated behind the "NO NO" keyboard. His set included some tracks from this Volume One release and some that we may get to enjoy on his second instalment due out on July 29th. I can hardly wait, is to too early to start begging for a signed copy? 

The band had left the stage, the roadies were setting the stage for Blue Rodeo and removing the Devin Cuddy Band equipment. Zach returned to collect his drumsticks and walking to the edge of the stage, reached down and handed Debra and I each one. It's amazing how a seemingly simple gesture accompanied by such an engaging smile can make another person feel. He is truly a wonderful human being and it was a pleasure to meet his Mom after the show and tell her the same. Mom's like being proud of their offspring. Zach's mom has good reason to be! 

It seemed an interminably long wait for Blue Rodeo to take the stage, but I think that is because we were standing on guard of our posts. For as we were entranced by the music, the arena had filled up and the crowd behind us was jocking for position. Hoping that we would slip up and move. One even asked a rather tall gent if her friend could stand in front because she was short. He suggested that if viewing was an issue she could have arrived 3 hours early like him also. Yes we are Blue Rodeo fans that are standing at the barrier a drum stick length from the stage! Alcohol tends to get some a little more rowdy at a public event, and this year was no exception, I had part of a beer poured down my back and one lady got covered in the front. It's not intentional, it's people jostling for position and tipsy glasses :)

From the very first song I knew that we were in for a real treat! The entire set was a fine mixture of new and old tunes. From Mattawa to Diamond Mine. For what it's worth, probably one of the finest single set lists I have heard played live. Although I am saddened by Greg's struggles with hearing issues, I kind of like what it's done to the band. I mean it was really neat to see him on the electric, but strumming the acoustic just seems so comfortable that (like Devin) I get more of a feeling of the man behind the music. I quite like this new role of his, even singing at the mic with nothing but passion and that beautiful voice of his. Good to see that Jim looked more rested than the last time I saw him. Of course his voice was perfection as usual. I am in such awe of the talent of this band. I am literally mesmerised by the music, the men, the show. So much talent! Colin Cripps who took over much of the electric guitar work that had been Greg's was a welcome addition of skill and I do enjoy his addition of vocal accompaniment especially on songs from the latest release "In Our Nature". Mike Boguski really gets into his flawless piano solos with passion. Every time I see Bob Egan play his repertoire of musical instruments, I wish I could play them too. Glenn Milchem is harder to see these days as he is hidden behind the plexiglass barrier that was erected to help preserve Greg's failing hearing. Bazil Donovan is always tucked neatly against the back of the stage. He looks like his playing the bass is so effortless and then you see the energy he is putting into his riffs. I curse my camera as I try and try to get a decent picture of that legend in the shadows. 

Not so entertaining was the woman who stormed the stage and tried to grab Jim. Not expecting that kind of intrusion must be a bit scary in this day and age especially. Seeing the vast number of security before the show and the three that rushed up to haul her ass off, I am surprised it even happened. Greg made light of the situation, suggesting she was an old one-night stand of Jim's. I hope that her drunken behaviour doesn't damper any plans to play this venue in the future. 

We were hoping for a encore that included the return of the Devin Cuddy Band on stage with Blue Rodeo and we were not disappointed. I felt so bad for Devin, clearly his previous set had taken a physical toll on him, for he obviously went off-stage for some medication. His father even remarked on his dazed appearance saying "Over here Devin" urging him to come to the centre mic with him. Only Zach left his instrument of choice to pick up a tambourine and share the mic with Colin. Devon joined Greg  and Nichol and Jim flanked Devin. The substitute piano player (I'm sorry I forget his name) took a turn on Jim's on-stage piano. Lost Together sounds amazing with that choir of voices and I love it when Zach tries to engage the gang into some choreographed dance moves. Well, not so much dance as moving to the beat :)

We were on such a high as the bands left the stage. We were in no hurry to let the feeling go and were milling about when Zach came out from the back and we had the opportunity to chat for a bit before being introduced to his mom. We eventually all made our way to the merch tables to get our new My Kind of Karma CD signed. And of course to express our appreciation one final time (that night) to Devin and his band.

******************************************************************************

That was the concert. This is about the day after. An amazing day for this musical junkie! We had decided to join my son and his girlfriend for a meal and some live music. We had picked The Walkervilles who were playing at the Rivoli on Queen Street, Debra knew of them and my sons friend was an avid fan and planning to attend as well. It was turning into a real party.

On the way to the Rivoli, as we walked on Queen Street I saw a familiar figure strolling towards us. I couldn't believe it, and I didn't believe it until I called the name Baz when he was parallel with us and he turned that it was actually him. We introduced ourselves and offered praise for the previous nights performance and then we let him go on his way. I was so gob-smacked star struck that I completely forgot to get a photo memory. Yes, I am still kicking myself.

After a quick bite to eat, the four of us decided to stroll the street in search of a watering hole to quench our thirst. I knew that without a doubt we would end up at the Cameron House because I wanted to share that intriguing spot with my son. And as I was looking up at the ants garnishing the side of the building I was alerted to a familiar figure standing on the side street looking at the same view as I. It was Devin! Ignoring traffic I turned in the middle of the intersection to make my way for yet another hello. I have so much admiration for this man and his talent, I can't even express it adequately.

Inside the Cameron House, Al Tuck serenaded us via recording as we enjoyed our suds and the atmosphere of the storied and historic venue. A final moment of star-gazing came when we spotted Whitney Rose sitting at the bar as we were leaving. That is one artist that I am anxious to see live as well. Our planned main event was icing on a perfect day spent with music, musicians and loved ones. 

PICTURES TO FOLLOW SHORTLY!

Free to Dream

Dreamer's Dream - Tom Cochrane

It's funny, you never really know how much stress you are holding within until you have the opportunity to release it. That weight falling off your shoulders. It's a burden of the soul.

I have been tied up in knots for two weeks and although I knew the cause of my stress, I alone couldn't put an end to it. It took a doctors confirmation. And I got that today. 

My last blog post (and several previous ones) about my abnormal breast mammogram lead me to a dark place where I was questioning my mortality and planning my demise. We never know when it is going to be our time for the most part but faced with the prospect it is normal if not fatalistic to consider a world without us in it. 

It's not like every waking moment is spent in that dour mood for if time is indeed limited we must grasp every moment and cherish what we have been given. 

I've lost people who were important in my life before I had a chance to know them and I was too young to remember anything about them (my dad), I lost people that were important in my life suddenly and without the opportunity to say a final good bye (my mom and 2 sisters). And I lost people that were important in my life given the chance to say good bye (my brother). From my perspective, I have to say that given that opportunity to say a few final words, makes the closure of that chapter a little easier. I got to say "I love you" I got to see the peace as he moved on. I didn't like it and it still makes me cry but the only unfinished business we had left was a lifetime of living and memories that never came - that is where the tears come from. The loneliness, the void left in my life. But they all left a void and they all claim the tears that stream down.

I am here today, now to say that at least for the time being my perceived "death sentence" has once again been lifted. I hope that this is the end of this episode but then again I thought that before too. So cautious optimism is how I would prefer to look at. Onward and upward is the best that I can do for now. As clouds are the reason for the rain and thus the cleansing of the world, so are the tears of joy welling up behind my eyes. Behind them is the smile that will signal renewed hope. The sun has come out again today. 

As much as medical tests and invasive procedures brought panic and fear, I am grateful that they were done. It's easy to say that now, of course. But I would like to think that even if my results were different I would still be glad that I am part of a medical system that can provide support and further longevity with early intervention. I firmly believe that knowledge is power. Better the devil you know, because then you can decide on the weapons you may need in your arsenal to fight. It's hard to fight a ghost you can't see.  

Terry Fox was a great Canadian who selflessly chose to run across Canada in 1980 to raise awareness and funds for Cancer Research. A world-wide phenomenon now but when he started support for his daily marathon run was minimal at best. But it was his efforts that kept someone I know alive who suffered the same cancer. Awareness and early intervention meant that instead of losing a leg and a life like Terry Fox, this young man is alive today and prospects are good. The scars of the disease are forever, but scars are road maps of life lived for some. They tell a story. 

My story can be found at www.pinkpantherfan.ca until I can publish the whole thing. 

For now, for today, this chapter is done. I am cancer-free! Cheers! 

Link to previous post on this subject:

http://pinkpantherfancanada.blogspot.ca/2014/03/if-i-was-boat.html

Looking in the Face of a Lobster

Lucknow - Greg Keelor

"Many are the roads that are offered
Many are the times that I will stray
Still for all the directions that I've travelled
It is here that my heart will remain"

It's been a long time since I have had the ability to sit and write a few words here. There was a very big change in my life that I had to deal with and in a very brief nutshell that transition was beyond a nightmare that taxed every fiber of my being. Someday I will have the strength to write about that but today isn't that day. 

I have been on a 2 1/2 year quest to find myself and try and return to that person I was before the DPCDSB broke me. I have been searching for so long that it has become a pattern for my whole life. Particularly in this transitional phase with nothing being where it once was. Survival dictated that I had to sell a lot of my personal belonging to pay bills and fight to keep my family home. As time passed and there was no change in my financial status, I began to pack up what was left in preparation for the day when I would be tossed to the street or be forced to give up at least part of my house to strangers. By this time I have no idea where most of my stuff is - sold, packed in a box, in another part of the house. My mind being as weak as it was at that time, I couldn't keep up with the changes. Soon, it didn't matter what it was I usually had to spend some time looking for it. I feared putting my phone on silent because many times I had to phone it to find it. I hid car and house keys outside as a back up. I've always been a "piler" - a pile of papers here, a pile over there - and I write on whatever I can put my hands on and put it in a pile. But when I sold a piece of furniture that held my piles I was screwed! Anyone who practices the fine art of "piles" (and I know I am not alone) knows that to amalgamate piles is a akin to a scrambling eggs. You can never find the yolk again. I am learning to hard boil some eggs to preserve them. Easier to find too unless my mom hid them for the annual Easter Egg hunt. That woman had a worse memory than I. Heredity?  

I put my faith and trust in someone I thought was reputable, but they weren't. Now what I held near and dear to my heart was trashed and unceremoniously dumped on me and some was dumped somewhere that they won't tell me. So I still spend a lot of my time looking for things. Sometimes to be found - sometimes to be mourned. I had to catalogue loss and damage and that was difficult to do through the tears brought on by lamenting loss, damage and the pain of kicking myself for allowing myself to become so vulnerable. It was one step forward and 10 back. In the frustration and exasperation at the thought of yet another fight for survival was too much some days. It was a violation of not only property but a personal one too. 


But there is renewal occurring that I have orchestrated myself. And the music lifts my soul and my heart. Despite multiple family tragedies that have been a direct result of the automobile, I find a weight is lifted off my shoulders when I drive. Like a dog sticking his head out the window and feeling the wind blow through his fur the long paved road clears the cobwebs from my mind, with each new bend in the road comes a new vista and for me a different outlook. Concentrating on the road instead of the problem allows a thought process to happen that wouldn't occur other wise. When left to wander we usually find the right path for us, unencumbered by what society dictates or expects of us. And so, to that end I bucked the system and conventional wisdom. I picked up the pieces of my life and took it down the road to a place where I thought I could find peace. So far so good (expect for that month of transition).

Canada is a wonderfully beautiful diverse country. I admit that (for now at least) my experience lies within the eastern half - the part that Terry Fox himself became very familiar with during his Marathon of Hope. This past August I took the same journey in reverse on my Marathon. In no way to minimize the feat of Terry Fox, I didn't run but it did take a lot of my courage on my part regardless. I began my journey in Thunder Bay. Being born there, growing up there until high school graduation - when I left at the age of 21, I left my family buried there never to be seen again. This visit was final farewell to that place. Never is a long time and I suppose that at some point I may return but I have certainly made it more difficult for that to happen. I will always miss having the opportunity to be with 5 minutes of seeing the Sleeping Giant. What is it about that hunk of rock that yanks me back? It's not like the image of Jesus in a piece of toast that you have to stare at to see...There is a man laying in the water - you can't miss it. The legend of Nanabijou from the Native American stories is fascinating and one I've heard so often that it seems real to me. There's no mistaking the reality of the majestic man sleeping peacefully for all eternity protecting not just the bay but the people who live in Thunder Bay. In the hardest and most trying times of my life when I felt the most despair I got myself to Hillcrest Park where I could sit on the small stone wall, or on the grass in front of it hidden from view and "just be me". The giant man didn't judge but his presence spoke volumes to me and his ears heard my unspoken words and the breeze from the great Superior lake dried my tears. Many times as he showed me the sun's coming and going and I saw hope. I watched the ships slide into port to be filled with the prairie wheat, I longed to board and head off to places unknown away from my pain. But I had seen the workings of a grain elevator and knew the story of the Edmund Fitzgerald that fought and lost the battle of Lake Superior. But from my safe vantage point the water and the waves brought peace. It was my open road before I could drive and take myself away.

Thunder Bay's Sleeping Giant and a lake freighter as seen from Hillcrest Park August 2013

Having said goodbye to my childhood, it was time to say "See ya" to my adulthood. My days as a active parent were ending, but that was okay. I had done my job and I had done it well if I do say so - they weren't babies anymore but fine young adults. She graduated from post-secondary school and spread her wings to embrace her life with the man of her dreams. He graduated from post-secondary school and had left the nest to conquer the world. I would always be there for them but I didn't need to be in their shadow or on their doorstep. I left with their blessing and understanding. It's all I needed. There were other people in my life that were hard to leave behind and they know who they are. If they don't know..they weren't. Looking back now, I don't think that the GTA was ever my home - just a place I hung around from time to time. Some great people, music, shopping and attractions but it certainly became a toxic place for me in the past few years. The people I knew are easy to see and connect with - I miss the ability to see Blue Rodeo as frequently as I had been. Unknowingly, they were a big support for me. But I have my ticket 3 months in advance for their upcoming tour stop in Halifax! :) 

Hasn't Hit Me Yet - Blue Rodeo

"You say that you're leaving Well, that comes as no surprise

Still I kinda like this feelin' Of being left behind

This ain't nothing new to me Well, it's just like goin' home

It's kinda like those sunsets That leave you feelin' so stoned"

I didn't yet get as far as Saint John's, Newfoundland where Terry Fox started his Marathon of Hope but I am within striking distance and I am drawing from his legacy of hope. Even as I was being beaten down in the first month - I could avert my gaze and look to the city and the sea and know that there were good people on the earth and not everyone was going to hurt me. It's different here. That village that came together for the child - that concept didn't need to be taught here. Everyone takes care of each other - regardless of age. I don't think a safer place exists for a pedestrian or cyclist. The homeless, the beggars, the down on their luck - they are respected (even if they aren't paid). People on the phone call you dear or sweetie - they like you and don't even know you. I have walked the streets alone and am never shunned. I feel safe - and I haven't felt that way in many years. This is a city where my guardian angels live where my soul has always belonged. I am home.

There are certain traits in my personality and way of coping that I have come to realize are a direct result of the experiences I had as a child. I suppose that is true for all of us, but I never recognized it or put the pieces of the puzzle together before. There was no need to connect the dots. Not wanting any more hurt or pain, I can write people off and never give them another thought. At the same time they can knock on the door of my heart and I'll let them in again - sometimes to hurt be hurt again. I'm a fool that way. Once bitten twice shy does not apply to me. Life is short and that is driven home when you watch your family die way before their time. You have to make the best of the time you have - so to that end. If I don't like it or I'm not happy, it's up to me to change it. You can't wait for tomorrow, because tomorrow may not be. So with a little of the nomadic spirit that our ancestors had when they moved blindly to another country - I pick up and leave what I know relatively easily and have done it a handful of times. Always within Canada - sometimes 100 miles away, sometimes 1000 miles. Sometimes there is a logical reason, sometimes I follow my heart (and I don't mean love). I've been told it's all very selfish on my part. One of my most drastic moves, I left the only family I knew (including my brother) to move halfway across the country. That time, I used the under-lying excuse of going to school as a reason, but what I never shared with anyone was that there were schools I could have gone to in my neighbourhood but I didn't want to. This last shake up, was probably the most selfish - for this time I left the family I made behind. My children. But staying there was making me into someone I wasn't and it was someone I didn't like and someone my kids didn't know. As much as it hurt for me to cry all the time, it hurt me more to avoid my children so they wouldn't witness it. 

That was then, now I begin anew and try to rebuild and heal. I want the pain to be behind me. I just want to be free. So, if you ever find yourself looking in the face of a fresh caught lobster - look me up, I'm around the corner. Free at last...

"Don't live with lies for they will catch up with you

Don't live with regrets for they will make you sad

Don't live in the past for the past you cannot change - nor should it be forgotten."

Life wavers uncertainly like a broken spider web blowing in the breeze. GLC Inc

credit where credit is due:

http://www.thunderbay.ca/Visiting/Beyond_The_City_Lights/About_Thunder_Bay_and_Region/local_legends/sleeping_giant.htm
http://www.terryfox.org/