Music and Nausea

Last night a buddy and I went to see On Holiday at Buffalo Club. They had an awesome energy and played a sweet show, short as it was. Bored after the live show ended, we walked over to the Media Club not knowing the line-up. Turned out a band called Sweetheart was playing, which we soon learned was unfortunate. They weren't exactly bad, but they weren't worth $10.

The vocals were largely inaudible, and when they could be heard, the songs revealed themselves as energetic but bland and indistinct. The base player once or twice jumped off stage with his cordless and mingled among the (not very enthusiastic) crowd as rockers are expected to do, which annoyed me. It's cool if said rocker is, you know, good, but here it felt as if the guy was trying to get the crowd to pretend they were sharing some vibrant connection with him, which they weren't.

I was also annoyed that the lead guitarist and the basist consistently stood, hips-tilted, with their mouths thoughtlessly gaping open. I can't decide if this reminded me more of Elvis (don't get me started on my beef with Elvis) or Ken barbie getting road head in his pretty plastic convertible. Either way they gave me the shudders.

I fled to the bathroom when the lead singer, his first plea failing, started practically begging that people "please stand up, come on, please." We left shortly thereafter.

Sometimes you can't beat showing up at random gigs; last night was not one of those times. Luckily On Holiday counteracted my Sweetheart-induced nausea enough for me to stomach a 7-11 burrito and a long walk home.

A Brief History of Last Night (and This Morning)

A Brief History of Last Night:

• Ron and Amar come over and have a couple of brews to get things started with Chris and I
• We meet up with Caffrey, Rhett, Ed, and Paolo at Kingshead Pub. The attendance consists of us and about five others. Still Steve and Paul's cover band Monkey Bar kept us pumped.
• People started seeping in and finally the place was kickin'. Plus Stash, Brian, Weldon and Nelson eventually ended up with us too and we were like some unbreakable St. Pat's fan force for our old high school teacher Steve. A year after first seeing him play live, I'm still impressed that come sunset, our old Catholic private high school teacher turns rockstar. Steve made my night when he dedicated Land Down Under to me last night, the same song he dedicated to me at the last show of his I saw before I left Vancouver one year ago.
• After hours of moshing/dancing, midnight came and went, Ron and co. taxied home and the rest of us headed down the street to Malone's.
• Some creepy old guy tried to impress me with his Sci-Fi knowledge and also by using the contentment he feels from sledge-hammering as a construction worker as an allusion to "many other things" Eugh! I'm sure he'd be a nice guy if he weren't trying to pick up, but unfortunately he was, so it was my intent to cut off conversation with him. That is until he offered to buy both me and Nelson doubles. How often does a guy get offered a drink?! I couldn't say no.
• A few minutes later (the gin and tonics done) Nelson walks away. I mouth "save me" but he keeps walking!!!
• Two minutes pass and Nelson returns running! He grabs my arm and yells "Quick! your brother's getting beat up outside!" I freaked out and sprinted after him right out of the bar. I was ready to destroy whoever was hurting Chris.
• Then Nels tells me that was the "save".... It was so believable even I bought it! Chris's only injury was his popped knee cap from dancing a little too vigorously.
• We walk across the bridge towards downtown with a random Australian.
• We shout "Happy New Year!" to all passerby, sometimes inquiring into their night. I asked one man if he was just getting off work (yes he answered). A minute more's conversation led to receiving his business card and being offered his services if we have any upcoming private parties. He walked away and I looked at the business card and laughed. His company title was "Boys of summer" and the front of the card was a glossy photo: the very same man wearing construction boots and short shorts, skin glistening with oil, and he posing provocatively. The people you meet at 3:30am on New Year's Day...
• A failed series of attempts to get into bars (that all close by 4am) ended in a much needed meal at Denny's.
• We lost the Australian somewhere along the way, Ed and Amar bussed to Ron's place, and Nelson, Chris and I got home at 6 am. Just enough energy left for a pingpong showdown in the basement before crashing.

See Ya 2005

It's the last day of 2005 today and I think this warrants an entry.

For Christmas my bro Matt gave Chris and I tickets to the Bedouin Soundclash show at the Commodore. To be honest I hadn't heard of them before but it turned out to be an awesome show, if only for their 'when the night feels my song' song. The opener, Mike Relm, Dj'ed up a fury. I know almost nothing about the world of DJs but this guy blew my mind. He did an amazing job of mixing, plus he sliced in silent dvd clips on a big screen projection which he'd rewind/fastforward to match the record mixing. At one or two points he matched the mouth movements of the projected characters to the sound of the record, which was insane. It's hard to properly describe it but the guy's unbelievably talented and if you haven't heard of him before I definitely recommend checking out his stuff. I say he beats the main act.

The three of us went to another show (this time the Town Pants) a couple of nights ago at at the Buffalo Club. The Town Pants were great, but the openers, Run GMC, were crazy. Why did they call themselves RunGMC? don't ask me. They are nothing like Run DMC. In fact they're a country band and one of the members only job is to wear thimbles and play the washboard. And as far as I could tell, the sound manager's job was to stand on stage, or more accurately wobble on stage, with his shirt unbuttoned to expose his well-established beer gut, bop along to the beat as best as he could, and periodically meddle with the buttons on the soundboard. And he gets PAID to do that! Seemed really nice, though the poor guy almost fell off the stage when I went up to give him five.

ok I'm bored. See ya around.

Cycling in Cambodia

We're in Cambodia! For the last couple of days we were in Bangkok, doing some intensive shopping and celebrating Ian's birthday. This being my third time in Bangkok, I'm surprised that the city which I initially found super busy, polluted, and charmless is growing on me. The more time I spend there, the more relaxed I feel amongst all the shouting tuk-tuk drivers hoping to scam you into a commission-earning tour of shops you don't want to visit and all the lady-boys madly batting their eyes hoping that you'll take them back to your room.

I can bare it, but I'm glad to be off. Cambodia is probably the poorest and least developed place we're been so far. We're in the second biggest city, Siem Reap, so it's not anything extreme, but it's still a world away from the developed tourism industries of Vietnam and Thailand.

The day long ride here from the Thai border was definitely an experience... Dodging the lies of a man who led us to an money exchanger and told us that nowhere else in Cambodia could Thai baht be changed to Cambodian riel, we got onto a 'minibus'. It was the bumpiest, loudest ride of my life. The roads we took (for about 8 hours in total) could hardly be called paved, and by the end of it I was covered in a layer of orange dust that had come in through the windows. I was sure I would get sick, and that I surely wouldn't sleep, but was glad to be wrong on both accounts! It was a bit like being in a cradle (a very loud, dirty one, that would every so often rock too hard and hurt your neck). In the end I think it was better than any smooth ride could have been--I got to see heaps of rural areas and interesting people (like a guy holding an oozie), and the red liquid sunset on the misty horizon (corny and cliched but accurate) was unbeatable.

Today we rented old about-to-break bikes and drove out of Siem Reap city to the outskirts. Somehow we ended up having a drink with a family and their neighbours on the straw deck of their home (a shack). One guy knew some English, so he taught us some Khmer (the Cambodian language), and the kids were super excited to see photos of themselves on the display screen of Chris's camera. Nice people, so I'll forgive them for thinking Chris and I are dating. Continuing on our biking adventure we somehow ended up meeting a 16 yr old boy who showed us an old Hindu temple and relics, made of stone with Sanscrit writing and images of Hindu gods engraved. Then he took us to have soup with his aunt! (He's an orphan without siblings).

It's days like this that make it all worth while. Photos to come soon!

8 days until I fly home!

Catching up on the last long while

OK, so this is the third time I'm attempting to write this blog entry. The first time the computer froze just after I'd finished writing it, and the second time I couldn't finish because we were about to get on a bus, SO this third go is going to be short and chunks of stuff will be omitted, because at this point I just can't be bothered.


The half moon party on Ko Phangan was lacking in that it didn't meet its reputation. This was most likely because it was raining so very much (the day after we left they shut down the airport due to flooded runways). We decided to go full out anyways, and nearly ridding the local store of its Thai Red Bull supply, ingredients unknown and unmonitered, we headed to the party in the forest like animals to Noah's ark. And I have to say wearing a plastic bag was actually quite fun. Somewhere along the line I lost my flip-flops in a brown river of rain. This didn't phase me at the time, but had I known this would lead to me buying rip-off Birkenstocks in Bangkok which in turn caused my left foot's arch to swell and blister, I think I would have tried harder not to lose them. Anyways, it was a good way to say goodbye to Ian and Lydia before we meet again in Bangkok.


Hanoi in Vietnam was stellar, with heaps of personality, but for a few days the only thing I associated with it was its overabundance of motorcycles. The thin streets are always full of them and there is never a silence as instead of using traffic lights, people just honk loudly every few seconds to let you know they'll hit you if you don't move (surprisingly we saw only two accidents). Trying to cross the street is essentially an extreme version of Frogger. I got to wondering how a blind person could survive in a city like Hanoi, where you risk your life every time you go for dinner. Not an hour after I mentioned this to Chris and Ron, no joke, we saw a blind guy crossing a street using a cane to direct him. The thing is, he accidentally knocked the kickstand of a parked motorcycle, toppling it over! The worse part is that there were literally over a hundred glass bottles of Coke stacked on the back... Guess I got my answer.




Just outside of Hanoi...
















Being rowed by Vietnamese women en route to the only-accessible-by-water Perfume Pagoda, a Buddhist shrine within a mountain cave...









We also
took a wicked two day boat trip in
Halong Bay...






















Visited the Cham Ruins, Hindu relics from the 4th century irrevocably damaged from bombing during the Vietnam-American war. It was still raining and Chris bought a sweet hat...








N











Now we're in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) still trying to regain circulation in our legs after the three night 40 hour series of bus rides we took from Hanoi. I ate a stuffed snail! Today I fight back at the colony of ants that has invaded our room, and tomorrow I fly to Bangkok. My motivation to make this third attempt at a blog entry interesting deteriorates by the word so this is the end!