March 11, 2004

Subject: Tour Starts Now!

So...... tour starts now.  In typical Slammin Jack fashion we are running late.  I of course was an hour late myself, true to form, only to arrive at the house to find the van had left.  At the start of previous tours this would have left me wondering, "Did those bastards finally get fed up and leave me, or what?"  These days I am more inclined to think that they had to do something, maybe eat at Bon's, maybe get gas.  In this case, they are getting the van wired so we can play Tiger Woods PGA golf on PS2 all the way across Canada!  Good on ya boys.

This day is full of promise, of bags packed and shows booked, instruments safely stowed and books ready to be read...... the boredom of the road is yet to come, the excitement of first tours is fading with our small experience, but I want to leave all the same.  Only now I know what it's like to come back and find all of your friends and lovers have moved, grown, expanded their experience while you were away, and things will never be the way they were when you left.  It changes us too, maybe more; there is a price to pay for all this. 

Nevertheless, we head out this afternoon.  We have the most gruelling ride we've ever attempted in a few days: Banff on the 15th and Halifax on the 19th.  It seems crazy but with the full bravado of five young men determined to suck every ounce of experience out of this ride we're on, we're gonna do it.  Even if it's just to say we did.

Scott

March 14, 2004

Subject: (none)

There are times when life is just exactly perfect.  Sitting in the warmth of the Sitzmark Pub in Lake Louise, comfortably blazed, was one of them.  As I waited to set up I watched skiers carve lazy turns through the haze of gently falling snow.  The sun shone through the clouds every now and then, marking bumps and kickers in shadow relief on the usually formless white of the run.  As I sipped my beer I felt exactly right.  I didn't need anything else at that point, I was just living.

Yesterday we missed our show in Calgary.  Electrical problems related to the installation of our entertainment centre caused us some delay, but after three calls to CAA and one visit to Canadian Tire, we think we have the answer.  Today we were musical prostitutes, playing our songs lifelessly to the inattentive vacationers apres-ski in the chalet.  I spent most of the show staring out the windows and going through motions I've done a million times, scarcely aware of anything but the view.....  We needed the money......... 

You never know what's going to be on the other side of a new door.  Sometimes it's exactly what you expected.  Yesterday, though, it was a parkbench and a clawfoot bathtub, and a yard full of birdfeeders and step-ladders.  Small moments of delight at unexpected beauty.......

Another thing I've found on these past two tours is how fast you can get to know little places accross the country; the little family restaurant outside Winnipeg with the killer borscht, the grocery store in Canmore where we all bought wheels of Brie for a dollar each, the windmills as you enter the foothills, a dusty ballfield we pulled over and slept in.............

Gotta go.

Scott

March 21, 2004

Subject: Cape Breton

Slammin Jack is tired and happy.  As far as we are concerned we have just made the most epic trip in Rock History.  On Monday, we played Wild Bills' in Banff.  At the end of the show, we packed our van and set off due east, for Halifax.  Sixty four hours of non-stop driving around the clock and we found ourselves in Halifax with a day to spare.  Our merch guy Matt earned his keep and a place in our hearts by getting a scratched copy of NHL 2003 to work on our playstation, now we have a full season on the go, with a fantasy draft and trades and the works.  We are now truly rocking the most styling van in the tour circuit.

 

The most amazing bar in Canada is the Liquor Dome in Halifax.  This is the only city in the country that would put eight bars in one building and let you take drinks between all of them.  We played the attic, the upstairs smoking bar of the Dome.  Unbelievable, the east coast parties.  Last night it was a great party with Jimmy Swift, in Sydney, on Cape Breton.  Afterwards, the JSB guys treated us to a night of debauchery worthy of being called Rock and Roll.  Now we have three days off to recuperate.

The highlight of the drive was the sunset on the praries; as we drove east it looked like the whole world was burning down behind us, and the purples and reds filled the horizon for three hundred and sixty degrees.  Unbelievable.  I love this job.  I love this country.

Scott

March 23, 2004

Subject: Legendary East Coast Hospitality

Today is Tuesday.  Today marks our third day off in a row and another day of enjoying the legendary hospitality of the East Coast.  We've been staying at Sean's mother's apartment, which is huge (and for those of us used to Vancouver rental rates, obscenely cheap).  We've used that time wisely by spending all of our waking moments playing our playstation hockey league.  I think we must have logged almost 16 hours yesterday......

The food here has been stellar and ample; I couldn't eat another peice of roast ham or pan-fried haddock.  The best part is, this is only the first of our parent-supplied accomodations.  We can still look forward to the French Canadian hospitality of Rich's parents' place outside Ottawa, and the palace that is Jeffrey's parents house in Toronto.

Right now we are sitting in the home of Craig of JSB, getting ready for another legendary night of East Coast Debauchery.  I think that this part of Canada is where we feel and live most like rockstars!  The guys from The Jimmy Swift Band have been the perfect musical hosts, sharing gear, lifting spirits, and even taking us to a Sydney afterhours bar once both bands had packed up from our University College of Cape Breton show.  As we entered the club, the door lady said to me, "You guys can't be from around here."  She was right of course, but I still don't know what made us stand out so much........

Craig's home overlooks the harbour, full of ships and cold grey-blue ocean water, and freight being ferried to and from all corners if the world.  What would it be like to be able to talk to one of those containers?  What worldly stories could that metal box tell us?  Tales of sunny Polynesian shores full of beautiful brown-skinned women and smiling children, perhaps, or of cold northern ports with work-hardened men in toques and rubber suits huddling together in corners for shelter from the biting wind as they enjoy their hand-rolled cigarettes.  Maybe it would talk of storms where the great oceans meet, and the gentle tides of protected harbours.  Whatever their stories, right now they are enjoying the same mix of honest work-ethic and relaxed attitude that the Maritimes has come to represent for me. 

A special hello to those of you who are far away from your homes right now. Better than talking to our container, I would love to spend some time hearing what you all have seen in your travels.  Like it, and us, you are absorbing real experience that you can share forever.

Scott

March 30, 2004

Subject: another sleepless night

When we are touring we get very little time alone.  Most of our waking hours are spent together in very close quarters: the van, the motel, the stage......  Because of that, things like taking a shower have become very important to me.  The shower is a fortress of solitude: a locked door and the noise of steamy water hitting the tub prevent awareness of the outside world.  It's one of my favorite places to be these days.  The only time in my life when I've ever spent this much time in the shower was when I worked on a pig farm in high school!

Another strategy I use to find time alone, at least when we are staying in an actual house, is to stay up all night.  Since I don't ever drive the van, and I seem to only need about four hours of sleep anyway, it's the perfect way for me to recharge myself.  When the house is asleep I can read and write emails, smoke cigarettes, have a beer or two, and really just enjoy the silence of the wee hours.  Add to that the stocked fridge of a house inhabited by working folk and it's a recipe for relaxation.... true luxury.

There is a paradox here though: much of the time I spend alone, I spend thinking of those I miss.  There are friends back in Vancouver whose lives continue without us, and friends overseas who are engrossed in adventures of their own.  Is this that human condition of wanting something that cannot be had; am I missing an opportunity to live in my own moment by idealizing another moment?  Those friends that I dream of, do they dream of me too?  The strangest thing is that this melancholy is almost comfortable to me at times..... a longing that I live with and am used to, perhaps.  Maybe I feel that I am being true to the memory of these friendships by wishing we were together............

In the context of my own life this is perhaps the biggest price to pay for this lifestyle: that those I would most chose to spend my time with are, more often than not, physically very far away.  And the risk is this: will I miss my opportunities to meet new and possibly very good friends as I try to keep alive the memory of distant friendships?  Will I let my best friendships fade away, their ardour dulled by time and distance?

Whatever the case may be, this choice has been made.  And the rewards are wonderful.  A good show, like the one we had last night in Moncton, is something intangable and sublime.  It cannot be described, the connection that we feel with each other when everyone is on and in the moment.  The audience feels it too, and communication becomes something super-linguistic, both between the players themselves and with the audience.  Whole volumes of feeling and emotion can be conveyed in a single phrase, and when you find yourself in the truest moment of this communication all pretenses fall away.  There is no ego, there is just music, and I love it.  The struggle of being here now seems to dissappear for a minute or two, and it is so fragile, because the instant that you realize you are acting in the moment is the instant that the moment ceases and you become an observer again.  I find this to be such a struggle.  Music is the only way I know to just exist, and when I reach that point of truest existence the perfection of that moment shocks my conscious mind enough to make it think about what is happening, and then it's gone. 

I often wonder if this is what makes the greatest musicians so great.  Maybe what makes people great at anything is their ability to be in the moment.  When you truly act in the moment you are free from external pressures not directly related to that moment.  I want to know how often most people live like that.  Are most people consumed with the struggle to stop thinking and act?  Or are most people existing, living their lives as themselves, free for the most part from doubt and worry?

Ahh, the mind of the night owl.  Not much of an update, this installment of my tour journal.  Thanks for indulging my night time musings........

Scott

March 31, 2004

Subject: (none)

So here we are outside of Ottawa, full of Rich's mom's spaghetti sauce.  His father just gave me two CanadaPost bags and a full gortex suit for couriering! Sweet!  Beers, cake, beers, wine, beers, everything seems to be adding up to sleep...... so tired...... Tomorrow we play the nation's capital.... with our van we should be a hit!

Scott

April 7, 2004

Subject: (none)

If Guelph was the kind of show that makes you question this life, then Toronto's Rancho Relaxo show was the kind of show that slaps you in the face with the answer.  This show was exactly what we needed to boost our flagging morale!  The turnout was excellent, old friends and new showed up early to catch Caution Jam's acoustic set.  It was great to see CJ again; we haven't seen them since last summer's Evolve and Come Together festivals.  The dance floor filled up early and stayed busy all night.  For me the highlight of the show was the surprise appearance by my parents.  They bravely faced the volume and smoke as they sat with the other parents (there were at least four other sets of old folks) and watched us play from directly behind the dance floor.  I can only imagine the types of "that's my kid" conversations that went on.  Since my parents have never seen me play anything other than classical music, I took this show as an oppo rtunity to show them where those 11 years of piano lessons went, surprising myself with the speed and fury with which I attacked my keyboards.  The whole band stepped up to the plate, putting forth one of our best performances ever, in my opinion (and in classic fashion, of course, it was not recorded).

The rest of the week so far has been spent relaxing in the luxury of Jeffrey's parents' Toronto home.  I've spent so much time in their steam shower I'm almost a permanent raisin; yesterday I took four showers, just to enjoy the hot, steamy solitude of that most wonderful place. 

Visiting old friends has been on the agenda for most of us, too; we've split up and ventured out into the city to meet good friends from our past.

On Monday we had the distinct honor to be invited to Jeffrey's parents Seder.  For those of you who don't know, this is a Jewish Passover meal.  Once we got over our initial trepidation about being at a religious function, we loosened up and had a great time (the periodic glasses of wine we were required to drink during the ceremony no doubt helped).  It was an interesting and educational cultural experience.

Tonight we hit London, I'll keep you posted.

Scott

April 9, 2004

Subject: disgusting behaviour at Trasheteria

I'm sitting here at Bobby's house, bruised and with torn clothes, wondering what happened last night.  Far from the apology we were promised by management, our return to Guelph was met with hostility and violence, perpetrated by the doorstaff of the Trasheteria.

The show went well, lots of people showed up early to catch our set, and then Nero absolutely ripped it up for us.  During the show I spent some time on the Jimmy Jazz patio with my sister and an old friend who used to work at the Trash, catching up on old times.  Things were excellent until it came time to go back in the Trash.  My friend asked one of the doorment for the key to the door that adjoins those two bars, so we wouldn't have to leave our drinks and go outside.  She came back and said, "We can't go through that way, they have a problem with you."  I looked over and saw two of the bouncers from last week's show staring at me.  The bigger one, who was working on this particular night, smiled, gave me the finger and said "That's right, you faggot!"  Well, I found that extremely offensive and so I walked up to them and asked them what their problem was.  "That's it, you're out of here!" the bigger one said, grabbed m y beer, threw it away behind him, and picked me up.  I struggled, and apparently my friend who was their former co-worker stepped in, and they put me down, a little briused and with one sleeve torn open from cuff to armpit.

Next, my friend asked a different doorman to let us through.  He was in the process of unlocking the door to let me through, when the other two bouncers rushed up and told him I was banned from the Trash.  The concept of being banned from a show I was hired to play seemed odd, but there was no reasoning with these doormen.  I asked to speak to their manager.  That's when I found out that there is no manager on staff at the Trash or the Jimmy Jazz when these bars are open.  Management may stop in from time to time, but they actually spend most of their time at Van Gogh's ear, across the street. 

A tense standoff ensued; I was surrounded by bouncers who were threatening me and questioning my sexual preferences.  Particularly disturbing is the fact that one of these doormen was not on duty and was drinking heavily, but was still using his "authority" as staff to insist I leave.  I sent someone to get my band from next door and the manager from across the street.  Jeffrey showed up within seconds and tried to assess the situation.  It was apparent that they were not going to budge and I was going to be physically prevented from entering a show I was on the payroll for, and a room in which my entire combined hopes and dreams were stored in the form of a collection of musical instruments whose value reached to five digits.  I was not going to stand for this. 

Finally, the "on duty" manager showed up from across the street.  He tried to find out what had happened, however, his method of trying to find out was to ask me questions in the bar with music blaring, while his doorman stood behind him yelling at me.  Several times I asked if I could speak to him without the doorman yelling at me as I tried to talk, but the manager did not seem to think that would be a useful way to proceed.  In the end though, he had to concede that I couldn't be banned from the show, the idea of it was ludicrous, and the result would be a whole bunch of pissed off fans in the Trash.  When he said I had to be let in, I said to the doorman, "That's right."  Both the doorman and the manager looked at me and said, "That's the attitude!"  to which I replied, "You expect me not to have an attitude after being assaulted by your employees at a show you hired me to play?"  and walked through the door.

It didn't end though, random scuffles broke out periodically between the door staff and whatever members of my band and the crowd that were near me.  The situation got so tense, that at times up to twenty patrons were drawn into the situation as they observed the bouncers repeatedly target me and try to have me removed.  All this time I saw no sign of management.  Apparently, the manager felt he had dealt with the situation satisfactorily and had moved on.  At one point the Trasheteria was like a tinderbox, ready to go off at any moment. 

I was even threatened several times: one bouncer said in earshot of several witnesses, "I'm going to kill him."  My sister was assaulted by a bouncer who wasn't even on duty, and who was drunk.  (It was this bouncer as well as the de facto "head" bouncer that kept hostilities going all night.)  They even made plans to go to our after-party and "meet" me there.  Witnesses heard them planning to go to the party, but in the end only one went, the off-duty drunken one, and he did nothing once he was away from his pack.

We packed up from this show in fear and haste, members of my band saying that if we didn't get out of their we were going to get our asses kicked.  The bouncers were completely out of control, operating on their own, with no regard to what harm they were doing to the reputation of their bar.  I can only hope that the management was only oblivious to this, and not complicit in it.

This is a particularly disturbing story for bands who may want to play the trash in the future.  The idea that the doorstaff of a bar would think it appropriate to try to ban musicians from their own shows, and use physical force to remove them, is ludicrous and abhorrent.  These musicians are hired by the bar, which makes them, for that night at least, employees of the bar.  In no other organization would one employee be allowed to use physical force arbitrarily against another employee of the same company. 

The idea that the Trasheteria and the Jimmy Jazz operate without an on-site manager is ridiculous as well.  If there had been a manager present this problem would never have reached the level that it did.  The fact that we had to send members of our own staff to another bar to find someone with the authority to call these bouncers off is absolutely ridiculous!

Finally, the idea that a company would feel that it is okay to have off-duty bouncers drinking in their bar and then excercising their authority as a representative of the company is almost laughable, if it weren't for the potential danger of injury to patrons.  Very likely, it is also illegal.

On the whole, I am extremely disappointed in the way the staff handled our return visit to Guelph.  What caused the original hostility one week ago is still mostly a mystery.  The idea that the staff would be allowed to act in an official capacity regarding a personal grudge is disgusting.  It is very likely that we will be able to proceed on this matter, particularly in regards to the assaults to the band and the audience, and the threats, in a legal manner, as management demonstrates no desire to fix the problem with their staff.

I must say that other than this one establishment, we've been treated with respect all across Canada.  This bar operates with a rogue doorstaff who have no accountability to anyone on site, and the result is a dangerous atmosphere for patrons and musicians.  Slammin Jack will never, ever return to this bar.

Scott

April 14, 2004

Subject: (none)

Up here in Northern Ontario you really get the feeling that people are just emerging from a cold winter.  Gone are the balmy Toronto afternoons, wandering the streets in scarcely more than a hoody.  Here there is ice on the lakes here, and pockets of snow in the hollows.  Nevertheless, the hardy people of Thunder Bay are out in shortsleeves, riding their skateboards, determined to squeeze maximum value from their brief spring and summer.

Also gone are the half-day drives of southern Ontario.  Although we did some criss-crossing here in central Canada, we enjoyed the three-hour-or-less travel times between gigs that you find in that part of the country.  Here it's all about the long haul, riding into golden sunsets on our way to the next northern bar. 

Hamilton felt good, welcoming.  The people were warm and happy to see us; old friends and new came to the show, members of the legendary (to those of us who went to school in those parts in the late nineties) Fat Cats made it to the gig.  Caution Jam opened the show again, their acoustic tunes setting a great vibe for the night. 

Montreal was everything it always is to me.  Full of beautiful women, beautiful people, style, attitude, everything that makes it so wonderful.  We stayed in a great place called the Hotel Pierre, fashionable and rundown, it's shabby furnishings complementing the crude artwork painted by the proprietor.  The hotel dates back to the forties and was actually quite interesting.  However, the shower had about as much pressure as a rainbow family career fair; it was like getting peed on.  But Montreal, oh, montreal, I love that fair city, the fairest in this land.  It is alive, pulsing, living, people really live a cosmopolitan life there, the arts are still considered noble there.

Sudbury, Thunder Bay, what can you say.  Those that came loved it.  We visited the parents of the other Jeff from BNB; I've had three dinners today..... ohhh, fulllll.....  Lake Superior and crystals everywhere, old mountains, wind..... this land at the lakehead is magic in some way I think.................

Tonight we sleep above the Appollo, in a strangely communal building where the bar staff lives.  There are beds for twenty five people here.  You can't really smoke anything up here, even cigarettes....... they all work downstairs for their rent....... there are no doors on the rooms........  You know, it is different but I feel more at home here than most places I see on tour.  Uniqueness is comfort to me sometimes...................................

sleepy, talk to you all soon, home in five days...........

Scott

April 18, 2004

Subject: last day of tour

The sun's glint was hard on the snowy peaks, the rockies rose magestically around us, and these very mountains were heralds of our return to the West.  We could see rain in a valley to the south, but sun made the rest of the range dazzling in its brilliance.  Little clouds of snow were blowing from the peaks, and it seemed as though the earth itself was reaching to the heavens, and heaven was spilling out over the rocky slopes and running rivulets down to those of us sharing this alpine highway. 

One more day and tour is finished.  One more day to wait in unbearable anticipation, one day until loved ones return to each other's arms, until friends are once again comfortable in each other's presence.  One day until the mother of all happy anticlimaxes, when we realize that daily routine has remained unchanged while we were off on our adventures.  One more day.

One day, two gigs.  The first was at the foot of the mountain in Lake Louise: outside, warm, sunny, happy faces all around, hidden by expensive Oakleys, soaking in the rays after a day on the slopes.  The mood was one of relaxed enjoyment, and it rubbed off on us.  The view as we played was spectacular.  Spring skiers plied the slopes, and chatted over cold beers on the patio.  We played and it could be heard at the summit, psychedelic funk filling the mountain with that inexplicable language, that voice of the inexpressable, the language we speak before we are born, and the one all things understand: sound, vibration, music......... The basic building block of all things, vibration...... vibration....... vibe........

The second gig was in Calgary, a last minute addition that in some way tried to make up for us missing the first one on the way out.  Once again we got to experience the uniquely Canadian aspect of these cross country tours.  We started playing at twenty-to-one after the Canucks finally won game six against (of all teams) Calgary in the third overtime period.  Not only were we not expected to play during the game, in fact we were encouraged not to, and truthfully more than half of the band wouldn't have wanted to anyway.  The turnout was not stellar but the Vancouver win and them tantalizing closeness of home lit a fire under us and we had them lost to their dancing all the same.

Now we are cozy at Bobby's house, our unofficial, and most appreciated, home in Calgary.  It's four now, three at home, and I can't wait to roll back into the East Side. 

See you all soon.......

Scott

April 18, 2004

Subject: home

We’re back.  No fanfare, no lights, no party, but we’re home.  And this is it, the mother of all anticlimaxes.  All that anticipation, I could almost taste Vancouver, and then, when we arrive, there’s really nothing to do.  Everyone I know either works tomorrow or is still partying from Friday. 

Scott