dp and i went to ‘the untitled jc’ premiere at the silent movie theatre;awesome spot for parties premieres btw.great turnout and everyone seemed to love it. way to go jeff
afterwards( after a quick nice ab visit)we ran over to my house- dp and i shot the shit.nice.
then went to the avalon to see the hip (that’s ‘the tragically hip’-for non-canadians)
We got there in typical d and a style- hours late; so, that although on ‘the list’, we were not allowed in- as the door had ‘shut’
…..but,shady as i am at times.. i faked almost crying so well that the guy at the door snuck us in.
and boy am i GLAD…i cant believe i even remotely entertained not going to this epic canadian extravaganza…..but got there i did- thanks to my girls- DF set it up getting us on list and sweet dp got me there- she was excited to see the U2 of canada.
as we walked in – i had a birds eye view straight to gord downie -in his button-down shirt& red bandana -doing his unique gord shuffley dance around to none other than the hip’s anthem ‘neworleans is sinkin’
fuck’in’eh. saw two leafs jersey’s within 3 seconds of entering.
I was instantly so moved by the crowd and the performance. It all felt so canadian (in a good way.)
– all the stuff they sings about is what i feared never escaping- public radio -prime-ministers-queens and englishness-cold -damp static memories-
cue the CBC intro music for evening radio show – ‘as it happens’ , stirs up dark memories of winter nights : my mom making tofu stir fry- while ,listening to barbara Frum really loud on am , as we set the table and begged silently to watch AMERICAN tv…different strokes,3’s company..anything but the CBC-
So many of those rainy damp nights waiting for dad to come home so we could have him turn on the tv-only to realize it was saturday-no sitcom for us: it was Hockey Night in Canada and the only break from the game was for DON CHERRY & coach’s corner… don cherry. all NIGHT-so depressing-
i wanted palm-trees and skateboarding boys with tans and flippy white blonde hair with names like todd .
Not these ski jacketed-stick yeilding -dull brown-haired , pastywhite canadian boys named gord or pierre or kenny,who smoked pot between hockey and soccer.
and listened to rush and iron maiden.ugh.
even now, writing this … i have a pit in my stomach.
But last night was magic , for me… really… because it was like being at a reunion with a select few kids who got out.It felt like redemption for that kid setting the table to the sounds of the CBC and rain…
everyone was reveling in each mention of the crtc
of ‘our parents prime minister”
of ‘ late breaking story on the CBC”
it was cathartic melancholy and powerful as hell.
and bizarre to most …
dia was fascinated.
she asked , sincerely ‘is this what a hockey game is like?” referring to all the boys in blue jays caps and brooks brothers button down over their favorite t-shirt
So true to Canadian heritage: getting drunk on beer smoking du mauriers and truly feeling the power of gords words & voice and the bands canadian awesome-ness.
the wheat kings and pretty things…
i had the shivers 309 times. and so did all the other transplanted canadians i was felling it with … i’m sure.
it was hockey night at the avalon.