I remember you well

At the chelsea hotel,

Good night sweet Montreal Bard.

A Canadian Icon died today, that gravel voiced poet. Who dared us to stay till closing time, prodded to the future, and made us want it darker.  We are a more because of your words and less without you.  

You want it darker, I’m ready my lord. Let’s kill the flame.

Well America Ya’ll did it

My readers could be expecting a huge rant today after I virtually hid under a pillow and wished yesterday away.

But I can’t do that because I am Canadian, we tolerate bullshit, fuck even bat shit cray cray, we elected Steven Harper TWICE.  So that says something.

But what has happened downstairs from my appartment is like cops electing the crack dealer that lives there.

But I live in Canada and I don’t have a dealer.  So honesty, women why? you alone could have turned the vote?

People of ethnically different colors, where did you go?  Were you oppressed, stopped from voting?

I want to know, Canada wants to know

It’s finally nice to see Americans working together again

You who follow me know I am Canadian,  hockey snow ice all of that.

I but I spent the night watching baseball,  the world series no less.  And I am so Happy for the Cubs. 

The masses of people who said it couldn’t happen,  one club who had no shot and another club who held on all year. I am happy for the tired hungry masses,  who yearn to break free and feel. 

I saw support for both clubs jumping and celebrating.  Lovin what they do,  in excitement and peace. 

We all love to fight hard,  back our teams,  play fair.    Play Ball

Tears fall on Hyena Road. 

Anyone who knows me knows the joker, the friend or my sharp scarcasam that can really sting.  Well i hate to tell you friend you hardly know me at all.  And as it turns out apparently I didnt either.  Well not really anyway.

Was just sitting at home watching a Canadian War Film Heyna Road, watching friends chums and the foings on in Afganistan. I have never seen the Canadian Armed Forces shown in quite this way.  Most movies gloss over the Candian sacrifice, at the end one half of the couple gets blown up only a day after he learns his Captain is pregnant with their child.

Something in me just let go and the waterfall started, I empathized with the bunch back at base. After having lost so much myself.  I don’t cry as a rule but i just let them pour down my face not trying to stop them at all.  My closest partners have always said why don’t you ever smile? I am content and happy inside but apparently very emotionless at the times it maters most. At least on the outside.  

Conversly don’t let myself feel sad, always trying to keep control that middle ground for my emotions. So tonight I got sad and I cried, maybe tomorrow I’ll let myself smile.  Not for the crowd but just for me.  When I fight to keep everything neutral, when things go wrong they go really wrong in all sorts of ways. 

Thanks for listening.

Bob

Out at the Ballpark – The Tragically Hip hit a home run!

Exploring Winnipeg and Beyond.

As I have described in earlier posts such as Gord Downie: Canadian Musical Psychopath, The Tragically Hip’s front man is a bit of a maniac on stage.  Being up close and personal with him at the Country of Miracles show last year gave me an appreciation for his lunacy in an intimate setting.  I had yet to witness the full blown frenetic schism that he becomes when teamed up with massive electric guitar power and the chest thumping bass drum that collectively form The Tragically Hip.

For those of you, who have not seen The Hip live, trust me this is not one of those overproduced, lip synced cookie cutter perfect types of shows.  Everything, I repeat everything is live. From Gord going wildly off topic in the middle of a song, ranting and raging about anything from sports, politics or inventing a new story on the spot. …

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Gord Downie and what it means to be Canadian

Exploring Winnipeg and Beyond.

I can’t even begin to try to count the good wishes and kind words since Tuesday morning and The Tragically Hip Management released a statement. Gord Downie has terminal brain cancer.  I know many of my world wide friends will not know his name or the band’s music but believe me when that announcement went live across Canada. It was like an arrow was shot into the collective hearts of a nation.

There are very few artists of any genre that capture the soul of a nation, Pierre Burton, Tom Thompson, Gordon Lightfoot captured the rough and tumble nature, angst of my father’s generation.  Leonard Cohen encapsulated the Montreal vibe and took the 70’s not just here but in the heart of the New York jungle with his verses.

To try to understand The Tragically Hip in a few paragraphs is like trying to catch smoke in your bare hands. …

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