Friday, November 18, 2011
Whitney Rose at the Cameron
Went downtown for a little head clearing on Tuesday night. Wound up at the Cameron and was treated to two great sets by PEI native Whitney Rose. She's a young thing with a wonderful voice (check out her YouTube videos) who knows her country inside out. There is a good blend of originals and country covers in the set. When was the last time someone sang you some Kitty Wells?
The best part was the all-star band - David Baxter on guitar, Bazil Donovan pounding out the bass line, and Devon Cuddy (Jim and Rena's son) tickling the ivories.
Don't know what the line up will be, but Ms. Rose is going to be there for the rest of the month. Check her out before she heads to Nashville.
Some video from her CD release that I shot for my Corner Stool website:
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Hey Say, Ray Robertson
Tuesday. Out and about. I've been in the apartment all day, watching and reading content about AODA. The N has not checked in. She has decided to cold shoulder me. After Sunday's "I don't want to do this anymore" I figure we need a cooling period.
Need to get out. Ray Robertson launch at the Garrison. I've never been to the Garrison, but I've heard good things. I.e. Next hotspot!!!! Ding, ding, ding.
I go to the Jane library to return/pick up a couple of books. I have held onto them for too long...Hit Man, by Larwrence Block, a book on writing (useless) by Lawrence Block, and a Rolling Stone magazine chord book "Great Hits of the Seventies." I have not learned any of the songs. Gone now, returned. I must forget them.
Two for pick up: Carrying Place (Humber River) and the Woody Allen film with Larry David. The Humber river book is big and not the one I thought it was. However it scares me. Picture book! Oh oh! There goes idea 987, www.awalkalongthehumber.com. I left it there but will go back and pick it up tonight.
Get me to the bus. A 35 Jane with "Not in service" picks up me and another girl at Jane and Dundas. I thank the driver. It's the least I can do.
Subway, transfer. Bus. Ossington and Dundas. I decide to eat. Since it really isn't a cheap row these days I decide on the Vietnamese Noodles. I head to the Golden Turtle. Glowing reviews in the front window, albeit eight years old. No one at the front door so I sit down at a table for four. The owner seems upset...
"You by yourself?"
"Uh huh."
"You sit in window."
I hate window seats. Me like privacy.
"Uh no."
"This table for four."
The restaurant has 20 tables. Three are occupied. It's 6:30pm. I counter offer.
"I tell you what, if it fills up before I leave, I move."
A glass of hot water arrives on my table. Is this the Vietnamese equivalent of "go fuck yourself, I am about to piss in your soup."
Within 2 minutes a couple of girls arrive and dutifully take the front table. Some people just want to be seen I guess. I pore over the menu, decide on the chef special "Hot Chicken and Vegetable." $8.50. Not bad. I ask for cold water, twice. I figure I have been marked. The soup arrives. Post haste, chop chop.
It's great. I'm sweating about half way through the bowl. I contemplate asking for a doggy container, but don't feel like carrying it around all night.
I head down to Queen. Which is a big mistake, because the Garrison is on Dundas, however I don't realize that until I make it to the Gladstone. The newly renovated Gladstone. I had a beer here last week and was under-impressed. But hey, progress, it happens to all things eventually.
Back up old Dufferin to Dundas and East to the Garrison. Wonderful layout. I head to the back, lots of writers and wannabes such as myself mingle about. The soup still weighs heavy on my stomach. I order my prop, a Molson Stock. $4.75. At least I leave her the quarter. The next guy up ( a writer I presume) orders a beer and anxiously grabs his change off the bar.
So much for his grant coming through.
There is no one in the room I recognize. Not even "the usual suspects" from other readings. Wait! There's my instructor from my U of T writing course. I forget his name, but remember his back story. He is from Ottawa like me and lived near Brookfield.
I quit his course after I realized that I had told him all the characters in my fiction.
Next time I'll keep my mouth shut.
I find a comfortable perch at the end of the bar but keep getting squeezed out by people who want drinks (imagine that.) I head to the other end. A troll like man, who I seem to recognize keeps staring at me. He is writing feverishly in his notebook. I want to pull out my camera and take a picture for him but decide to let it pass. Perhaps I inspired him. Someone has to.
The reading? In typical fashion begins late. Ray gets up on stage and reads for a lot less time then promised. Which is okay. I read a Ray Robertson novel once, I can't remember the name or what it was about. Robertson has this typical in your face, I know fucking everything appeal. Which seems to appeal to the crowd.
Too bad about his depression (the inciting incident that motivated his latest opus, 15 Reasons To Live. The book is ordinary. He makes cultural references that I can identify with. Now, I am ten years older, so I wonder if Ray is lying on his website.
His reading ends, his friend from Chatham gets up and starts singing C & W songs. Which is okay, but he's left handed and dis-orients me. I debate having another beer and listening, but I have a quote to write tomorrow and want to keep my wits and tits about me.
Hey Say Ray! Good luck.
Heading home. 63 Ossington North. The guy is pulling away from the shelter but actually stops when he sees me in the rear view mirror. God Bless you TTC.
I head to High Park then walk to Dundas. The Axis Grill hosts my favourite open stage and there is always a good chance they will start on time. Wrong. The drum kit is piled high. It's nine o'clock. There is only Blue Jays on the Boob to distract me so I head off on home.
N has not called.
Need to get out. Ray Robertson launch at the Garrison. I've never been to the Garrison, but I've heard good things. I.e. Next hotspot!!!! Ding, ding, ding.
I go to the Jane library to return/pick up a couple of books. I have held onto them for too long...Hit Man, by Larwrence Block, a book on writing (useless) by Lawrence Block, and a Rolling Stone magazine chord book "Great Hits of the Seventies." I have not learned any of the songs. Gone now, returned. I must forget them.
Two for pick up: Carrying Place (Humber River) and the Woody Allen film with Larry David. The Humber river book is big and not the one I thought it was. However it scares me. Picture book! Oh oh! There goes idea 987, www.awalkalongthehumber.com. I left it there but will go back and pick it up tonight.
Get me to the bus. A 35 Jane with "Not in service" picks up me and another girl at Jane and Dundas. I thank the driver. It's the least I can do.
Subway, transfer. Bus. Ossington and Dundas. I decide to eat. Since it really isn't a cheap row these days I decide on the Vietnamese Noodles. I head to the Golden Turtle. Glowing reviews in the front window, albeit eight years old. No one at the front door so I sit down at a table for four. The owner seems upset...
"You by yourself?"
"Uh huh."
"You sit in window."
I hate window seats. Me like privacy.
"Uh no."
"This table for four."
The restaurant has 20 tables. Three are occupied. It's 6:30pm. I counter offer.
"I tell you what, if it fills up before I leave, I move."
A glass of hot water arrives on my table. Is this the Vietnamese equivalent of "go fuck yourself, I am about to piss in your soup."
Within 2 minutes a couple of girls arrive and dutifully take the front table. Some people just want to be seen I guess. I pore over the menu, decide on the chef special "Hot Chicken and Vegetable." $8.50. Not bad. I ask for cold water, twice. I figure I have been marked. The soup arrives. Post haste, chop chop.
It's great. I'm sweating about half way through the bowl. I contemplate asking for a doggy container, but don't feel like carrying it around all night.
I head down to Queen. Which is a big mistake, because the Garrison is on Dundas, however I don't realize that until I make it to the Gladstone. The newly renovated Gladstone. I had a beer here last week and was under-impressed. But hey, progress, it happens to all things eventually.
Back up old Dufferin to Dundas and East to the Garrison. Wonderful layout. I head to the back, lots of writers and wannabes such as myself mingle about. The soup still weighs heavy on my stomach. I order my prop, a Molson Stock. $4.75. At least I leave her the quarter. The next guy up ( a writer I presume) orders a beer and anxiously grabs his change off the bar.
So much for his grant coming through.
There is no one in the room I recognize. Not even "the usual suspects" from other readings. Wait! There's my instructor from my U of T writing course. I forget his name, but remember his back story. He is from Ottawa like me and lived near Brookfield.
I quit his course after I realized that I had told him all the characters in my fiction.
Next time I'll keep my mouth shut.
I find a comfortable perch at the end of the bar but keep getting squeezed out by people who want drinks (imagine that.) I head to the other end. A troll like man, who I seem to recognize keeps staring at me. He is writing feverishly in his notebook. I want to pull out my camera and take a picture for him but decide to let it pass. Perhaps I inspired him. Someone has to.
The reading? In typical fashion begins late. Ray gets up on stage and reads for a lot less time then promised. Which is okay. I read a Ray Robertson novel once, I can't remember the name or what it was about. Robertson has this typical in your face, I know fucking everything appeal. Which seems to appeal to the crowd.
Too bad about his depression (the inciting incident that motivated his latest opus, 15 Reasons To Live. The book is ordinary. He makes cultural references that I can identify with. Now, I am ten years older, so I wonder if Ray is lying on his website.
His reading ends, his friend from Chatham gets up and starts singing C & W songs. Which is okay, but he's left handed and dis-orients me. I debate having another beer and listening, but I have a quote to write tomorrow and want to keep my wits and tits about me.
Hey Say Ray! Good luck.
Heading home. 63 Ossington North. The guy is pulling away from the shelter but actually stops when he sees me in the rear view mirror. God Bless you TTC.
I head to High Park then walk to Dundas. The Axis Grill hosts my favourite open stage and there is always a good chance they will start on time. Wrong. The drum kit is piled high. It's nine o'clock. There is only Blue Jays on the Boob to distract me so I head off on home.
N has not called.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Humber Photography continues
Took advantage of the good weather once more to take some more pics for "A Walk Down the Humber."
Got some good pics as well as an establishing shot. Spent some time with the ducks.
Here's a bit of video shot with the Canon at HD and then compressed.
Got some good pics as well as an establishing shot. Spent some time with the ducks.
Here's a bit of video shot with the Canon at HD and then compressed.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
A Walk Down The Humber
Took the Canon out for a wonderful walk down the Humber yesterday. The weather was hot but tolerable. A perfect summer day. Everything is green, with just slight hints of Autumn a coming. The geese were practicing their landings, the ducks weren't doing much, and the blue cormorants were just sitting around.
Couldn't get close enough to the cormorants to get a decent pic.
Started putting together images for "A Walk Down the Humber". Hopefully get it ready by end of October for Christmas sales.
The dream lives on. To a certain extent.
Make sure to check out the rest of my photography here:
Couldn't get close enough to the cormorants to get a decent pic.
Started putting together images for "A Walk Down the Humber". Hopefully get it ready by end of October for Christmas sales.
The dream lives on. To a certain extent.
Make sure to check out the rest of my photography here:
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