The District

I've been to Washington, DC, four times now. And so far, the fourth time is the best. It might be the one that changes my attitude about this city.

My first visit was part of a dance trip at the end of the 80s, when we came to perform in several places, including the national Fourth of July parade. It was hot and humid, and I saw a purse-snatcher use a big butcher knife to slice a handbag strap and run with it, in broad daylight. It didn't leave me with the best impression. The next two trips were less eventful; they just led to a feeling that DC is boring, touristy, and awful to drive in, and left me confused on what to call the place.*

On this trip, it's still touristy and awful to drive in, but hanging with locals has ensured that DC is definitely not boring. They showed me more of the urban neighborhood view of the place, which I dug. I arrived yesterday afternoon, but didn't make it into the city until early evening, due to the aforementioned shit driving conditions. Aris did his damnedest to get Twitter folks out to welcome me, but it wasn't all that successful. The only one awesome enough to show was Ruben, who we met at Local 16, after I walked many blocks in a torrential downpour. Despite having an umbrella, I still hadn't quite dried out 2 beers later when we walked down the road for Ethiopian food at Dukem.

I had never eaten Ethiopian before, but I'm an instant fan. Apparently it's big here, and do you want to get some Ethiopian food is essentially code for ya wanna go eat a big pile of meat? Yes. Yes, sir, I do.

After a couple more drinks at the famous gay hangout Nellie's Sports Bar, poor Aris ran out of steam and went home. Bless his heart, he fought through a terrible cold to go out and entertain me. Luckily Ruben was all too happy to take over guiding my booze tour, with one last stop at Mad Hatter.

Mad Hatter is a total meat market for Bros and Woo Girls, very much the Jersey Shore of DC. The sociologist in me was fascinated; my inner party girl was loving it. Ruben's only advice was pretend you're 22 again. Done. We drank, we danced, we set out to accomplish the random DFMO (Dance Floor Make Out), but ended up just hanging with each other the whole night instead. I'm sure it would have been possible, the moment Ruben took 2 steps away to grab us drinks, a dude hit on me. Ruben had talked to a group of ridic bachelorette party girls earlier, and when he left to walk me back to my hotel, they all turned and glared at me. The whole experience was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

But all the fun means that now I'm sleep deprived  for my rainy DC Sunday, and I may not be able to really make the most of it. I always blow it out on the first night of trips like this and spend the rest suffering. Maybe someday I'll learn...

Nah.


*Aris eventually cleared this up for me, after getting very frustrated with my inability to call DC the right name on Twitter.

Columbia City Theater: The Barr Brothers

I fell in love with The Barr Brothers almost instantly. Their self-titled debut album has a little bit of everything on it, mixing more genres and influences than I could possibly pick out, with ease and beauty. They embody everything I adore about music, so when I heard they were playing in Seattle, I immediately bought a ticket.

Unfortunately the venue was everything I hate about Seattle. The theater itself was small, gorgeous and had great sound; the bar attached to it was pretty much Hipster Hell. But I endured.

I endured the door guy saying "As far as I know, it still starts at 8," with the bar empty at 7:45.
I endured coming back 20 minutes later and having him say, "Uh, I think doors are at 8:30 or 9 now."
I endured a $6 beer served by a bartender with a dredlocked rat tail.
And I endured a few BINGO games in which I could have won "Really cool stuff like a PBR coozie."

When I finally got in the door, the show started off with a local combo called The Thoughts. They weren't bad, and I think they were chosen to open because, like The Barr Brothers, they have a mellow rock vibe and a harpist. However, the crowd wasn't totally won over. In the quieter moments, everyone could clearly hear conversations going on across the room. (No, really, even the singer looked over as a guy went "So ANYWAY, like I was saying..." mid-song). And I haven't seen a crowd stand so awkwardly far from the dance floor since my last 8th grade mixer. I enjoyed the songs, but I felt bad for them.

Eventually The Thoughts left the stage (cordial applause), and The Barr Brothers came out to set up. Yes, they set up their own gear. I may have been the only one in the room who knew what they looked like and noticed it, though, since they're not exactly MTV stars, and they do kind of resemble roadies.

The Barr Brothers -- who called themselves The Barr Brothers and Friends last night, Brad & Andrew Barr, Sarah Page, and Andres Vial -- kicked off with Beggar in the Morning, their single, and a fitting opener, thanks to the following verse:


It seems I’ve come a long long way
To sit before you here today
They’re yours and yours the songs I play
To take with you or throw away

They went on to play a few songs from the record, and a few more. I'm not really willing or able to do any sort of review; I just dug it. Their joy made me happy, because the band made it clear that they are just a bunch of music nerds who love what they do.


At the same time, they sounded amazing, and despite some audience participation of adding to the guitar sounds made with thread (and a request for a fan to grab both brothers Barr some Jamesons, neat, with their drink tickets) didn't really put on a show at all. They just played their hearts out, from folk to blues to Black Sabbath-esque rock, with a bit of everything else in between. The encore was mostly a game of dueling harp and guitar, which was actually funny, but oh! so nerdy. Just hearing them do their thing was what made it great; it was all about the music, what we all had in common.

So as much as I geeked out and adored the gig, I'm not sure The Barr Brothers would ever really translate to be arena rock stars. I can't imagine them playing on a big television event. And I bet they're okay with that, because they don't seem like they'd feel comfortable there anyway. I just hope they are successful enough to keep doing their thing, and get some appreciation for how good they are.

Because they are really REALLY good. 

CBC Studio 40: George Stroumboulopoulos Tonight

I just finished watching last night's George Stroumboulopoulos Tonight. It was the second time I'd seen the show, though; the first time was live yesterday afternoon.

When I heard George was coming to film in Vancouver again -- he's usually in Toronto -- I immediately checked my calendar to see if I could take the day off work. Because my time was clear, I put in for the tickets right away, and got my confirmation within a couple of hours. And was thrilled! Because if I'm honest, I love TV more than anyone should, and George Tonight is probably my favourite* show on my favourite station, CBC. Steve also enjoys the show, so he was nice enough to accompany my nerdy ass on the trip.

In the middle of the taping, George mentioned we were running a couple of minutes long, so it was interesting to see what got cut when it aired. Also, during the first interview, we could hear George fine in the studio, but Jim Treliving was barely audible. That translated to Jim sounding fine on TV while Strombo seemed to be in a cave. That was fixed, though, and we had no sound issues for the rest of the program, in person or on the broadcast.

As excellent as George was, however, I went ABSOLUTELY geek-a-tronic about being at the CBC. I watch anywhere from 10-20 hours of CBC every week, just CBC, among all other television. I was gutted at the announcement of cuts to Canada's national broadcaster in the new budget, and went into shock when I read that they applied to put ads on Radio 2. I love the CBC in an irrational way, and that includes Radio-Canada's programming en francais... if only I could get it here.


Anyway. Having seen him live, I came away with 3 thoughts on our boyfriend George:

1. I really want to feed him cupcakes. They can be vegan cupcakes, fine, but he's way too thin right now. I forgot that everyone is actually skinnier than they appear on television, so it was a bit of a shock. 
2. He's even more alluring in person. He somehow manages to be better looking when not seen through a camera, and has exponentially more charisma. I didn't think it was possible!
3. I vote that he's taken over as the Hardest Working Man in Show Business. In addition to producing a fantastic hour of television, he worked the crowd during the breaks, and spent who knows how long talking to all the fans afterward. And the George Tonight show is only one of his many jobs!

Speaking of which, I went into the room to do the Meet & Greet with George, but after a couple minutes watching him say hello and pose for pictures, I realised I had no desire to do that. It's just not me.

Yes, I'm a big fan, and I'm really glad I went to the show. But to me, celebrities are still people, as full of shit as everyone. I don't like George because he's famous, I like him because I enjoy his work. By showing up, I supported that work and showed my appreciation for it. Standing in the line-up to take a photo next to him is just awkward. It's not something I'd ever do. At the same time, were I sitting next to the man at a bar, I'd chat with him like I do anyone, probably mentioning that I like what he does in the process, but that makes sense to me. Standing in a queue for a random handshake and a hello means nothing to me; I don't get it.

Weirdly, I didn't consciously realise that I thought this way until I was standing there looking at the Meet & Greet, but it's the same approach I have to Twitter. I talk to strangers (some celebrities) who I follow because I have something to say in the conversation, not because I want attention from the super famous. Although I do sometimes get starstruck if I like their work too much, and have a completely irrational fangirl reaction if they reply to me (eg the DM from Paul Feig).

Well.
I'm off track.
To sum up, the show was incredible, George is a phenomenon, and I love the CBC waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much.

And I still wanted to stay in Canada forever, but that's a whole other thing....


*The last 2 days got me super Canadian (think that HIMYM episode where Robin plays hockey in the living room), so I will use the proper Canuck spellings for the time being.

Rogers Arena - Montreal at Vancouver

AND THE HABS WON!! 4-1 BABY!!

Ahem.

Last night I went to see the battle between the Vancouver Canucks and my Montreal Canadiens at Rogers Arena in Vancouver. Since I haven't been back to town in 10 years, I hadn't seen a game here for even longer. The arena hasn't changed, even though I think it's gone through 2 names since I was last inside it.

I took the skytrain down early, picked up my ticket at will call, then headed down the road to find some quick dinner. As I sat down with my pizza slice, I took a look at my ticket to see which gate I needed when I got back. They had given me 3 tickets, 2 of which had someone else's name on them. The other seats were much better than mine, so I briefly considered using them. Then I thought how pissed I'd be if someone did that to me, so I took the extra tickets back to the box office and made my way to the 300 level. Damn golden rule.

There were lots of Habs fans in the crowd, as there always are; every time a chant went up, there was a such mix of both teams being yelled that it sounded like "Go Blargs Go!" I cheered my head off for my Habs (who cares if I'm alone?!), even through the first period when they were outshot by a margin of 3:1 and the game was tied 0-0.

It happened that I'd bought one of two seats being sold separately, so I was sat there next to a lone Canucks fan. At the first intermission, he came back from getting a beer refill and asked, "Are you still cheering for the Habs?" "Yep." "Then I can't talk to you."

And we talked for the rest of the game. He consoled me when the Canucks drew first blood in the 2nd, and I helped him keep track of Plekanec's assists (for his fantasy team) as the Habs got the next 4 goals. We laughed, we drank beer, my team actually won for a change, and it was a good time.

At the end of the game, he invited me out to a bar with him and his work colleagues who'd been seated in the company seats downstairs, but I wasn't feeling it. I'd had plenty to drink already, I'd been up since 6:30am, and I was tired. Plus I had no ulterior motives with the guy, he was just fun to hang out with and watch hockey. He took my number, saying he'd text where they ended up if I wanted to go meet them, but he didn't. And I wouldn't have gone anyway. I'll never see that guy again.

It's kind of too bad he wasn't my type, because we got on great and a hockey game would be the perfect place to meet the man for me. When am I going to end up at a game next to a single guy who's also alone, and who's friendly enough to chat, and who I get along with, ever again? Never. Proof that there's no fate or master plan in the world, just randomness that sometimes works out, and sometimes doesn't.

In the end, I had a great night. No need to use my zen garden after that game. But I did wonder how much the hotel would charge me for smoking in the zen garden. I mean, it's outdoors, right? Damn hippies.

A Return to the Lower Mainland

I don’t know what to say about being back in British Columbia. Partly I’m just tired because this is the first moment I’ve had to rest since 6:30 this morning, but maybe I’m also overwhelmed.

I moved away from Burnaby at the end of August, 2001. I came back to town a few months later to defend my thesis, then didn't return. I had no real desire to come up here, being as there wasn’t anything new to discover and very little that I truly missed. Sure, I missed Canada in general, but nothing specific to Vancouver or the Lower Mainland.

But then I came back.

I left early for a Saturday morning, ran into no real traffic, and had only one car in front of me at the border crossing. The agent seemed somewhat suspicious of me coming to a hockey game alone, and when I mentioned that I used to live here to try to calm his concerns (ie it’s like visiting your old neighborhood, you don’t need to bring friends with you), he asked me even more in-depth questions. But I ultimately got in, and was downtown near my hotel before 11am.

Since check-in didn’t start until 3, I stayed on the road. I drove down Hastings through Burnaby, past where I used to live. Downtown has changed a lot, and Burnaby was nearly unrecognizable, but the sad mess on Hastings was exactly as I left it a decade ago. I stopped for lunch at A&W and poked around some shops, then continued down Lougheed highway to Coquitlam, which looks exactly the same.

I finally settled in at SilverCity cinemas to see Goon. I’m completely and irrationally in love with this movie, and why wouldn’t I be? It combines so many of my favorite things: hockey, big laughs, constant cursing, a totally unsentimental love story, and Jay Baruchel. It’s not out in US theatres yet, but it’s available to rent on iTunes, so I watched it twice on the plane back from the UK, and came to see it on the big screen while in Canada. After 3 viewings I still absolutely adore it.

When the movie was over, I drove back across town in the rain to my boutique hotel, which I booked only because I got a good deal on it. Next time I’ll pay more not to be in a place like this. My room has a ‘zen garden.’ Whatever. I’m sure lots of people love this shit, but not me.

I'm now about to rush off out the door to find some food and catch the skytrain down to Rogers Arena, where will-call has a ticket for me to see some Canadiens at Canucks hockey. The odds aren't in my favor, but I'm still hoping to see my boys win in person for the first time in ages.

Go Habs Go!

The Winter of My Discontent

For my travels in Britain, I brought Bukowski's Notes of a Dirty Old Man, because it's a collection of newspaper columns which are short with lots of logical stopping points. Somewhere on a rail car in the middle of the country, I read this passage where Buk explains why he's not well known as a poet:

I began late and lived too long alone in small rooms drinking wine. they always figure that a hermit is insane, and they may be right.

I related a bit too much to those sentences, especially out on the road by myself, living in small hotel rooms, often ending the day in them with beer or wine and television. It was just a road version of what I do at home: go do useful and productive things during the day, eat an early dinner, then stay in watching TV (possibly with wine) all night. I always hibernate a bit during the winter, but this year it has been even more hermit-tastic than usual. I have no inclination to change it, either. I kind of dig this life. Hence the insanity comment.

I tend to tie my mood tightly to my location. Seattle isn't doing it for me, so I hide indoors away from it. Or I leave it. Even living the same lone life in Great Britain, I was much much happier. I was back in the US for 3 days before I found a reason to leave again. I'm up early this morning to make the drive up to Vancouver, spend the day around my old Lower Mainland haunts, and then see the Habs and Canucks play tonight.

And now that spring is starting to appear in Seattle, I feel the need to get out of the house, to find things to do that improve my mood in spite of location.

Failing that, I have a trip planned every month for the next several. Mileage, mileage, mileage.

I am going... I am going... any which way the wind may be blowing... (name that Pogues tune)

Touring London

I spent today being a tourist in London. In general it was great, but man, do I hate tourists.

I'm not much of a museum girl, but rain was expected this morning, so I decided to start my day indoors at the British Museum. Since I've studied the Church of England and various other aspects of Christian history in Europe, I figured it could at least entertain me for a while. It didn't disappoint. I wandered through some of the Roman and Egyptian collections, but what really geeked me out were the European rooms with their various religious artifacts.  I was a bit disappointed that the Europe 1400-1800 room was closed today, since I'm sure it would've had more of the same. I ended my time in the Age of Enlightenment room, which was a recreation of the King's Library and made me feel very warm and homey, as it smelled of old books. But after a minute I lost focus and kept thinking of Swingers -- It says breakfast any time... I'd like pancakes in the age of enlightenment -- so I had to leave.

After the Museum, I took the Tube up to Westminster, which was basically a giant crush of tourists. I took a walk around Parliament Square then headed across the Thames on Westminster Bridge, all the while unable to escape the immense crowd. I stopped for a lukewarm sausage roll, crossed back over the water, then turned the opposite way of the horde, which led me to take a lovely stroll through Whitehall Gardens. Having relaxed a bit, I took a walk back into the masses and up to see 10 Downing.

Of course, I couldn't actually see #10, because Downing Street is completely closed to the public. The road is blocked by 2 gates and a number of policemen, including one with a machine gun. So I joined the throngs in taking a photo, then moved on. Up the street I wandered into the cavalry parade ground. It wasn't all that spectacular, and just made me feel sorry for the poor guys in full regalia, and their horses, who have to stand there all day letting person after person take pictures of them.

At this point, the sun had come out and, because I had dressed for the morning chill, my body temperature was in the vicinity of one million degrees. I made a quick stop back at the hotel for a wardrobe change, then took advantage of the nice afternoon and walked down to Hyde Park. I strolled all the way through the park, past Kensington Palace (currently closed) and popped out the other side on Kensington High Street. It was quite a nice walk, albeit about 2 miles long, so after I'd finished my shopping, I opted for the Underground back to my hotel.

Now, having done all my touring, I'm not sure what the night holds for me. I know that dinner and wine are in order, but beyond that.... well... probably not much, as I have a long day of flying tomorrow, but we shall see.