Saturday, May 31, 2008

Where's the music?

This is a returning theme of this blog -- that the to which it owes it's name generally doesn't exist. Sure, if you go into Zap Records, or the Summer Dock Studio (Wolfe Island), or The Dorian School of Music, you can buy our cd -- but aside from that, there really hasn't been much going on since our November show. And that sucks.

Every time I run into, or talk with one of the guys from the band I feel like such an ass that I haven't managed to pull together anything resembling a show.

I've enjoyed making music and shows with Peja -- but no matter how much I like to pretend to the contrary -- she's probably a bit young for being in a band. Give her a year, maybe two, and there could be something there - but right now she shouldn't have to worry about whether the song is a swing or a shuffle. So, maybe soon, I'll get something scheduled. I've been talking to Kyra and Tully at the park, and it'd be cool if we could do another show like last summer's Wilson Room spectacle.

The Dorian spring recital is being split this year -- there'll be two shows; the 2nd of which will feature my students on June 28th in my favourite venue -- The Wilson room at the Central Library. I have a few songs to learn -- I think I'm supposed to sing or drum about 75% of the tunes, so I should probably figure them out. . . I can sing Green Day, right? My students are doing a great job learning their stuff -- I think we'll pull together a good show.

I've been playing ball at Peja's school at a great community pick-up game. I am amazed and very pleased to find a large number of Dad's and Mom's who dig basketball too. It's not quite the level of KSSC, but it's pretty fun, and at 2 hours or so, a longer and better work-out. We had 8 players out last week, which seems about perfect, 3 on 3 with 2 subs lets everyone play as much as they want, with an option for rest. You constantly switch teammates, which can be confusing, but also makes it really fun, and it means you never get too upset by physical players, because 10 minutes after they knock you over, they're helping you by setting a dirty screen for a lay-up.

Uh, that was a bit scattered. . .

Take care.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Transformers

I dropped out of film school, as many of you know, and pretty much stopped enjoying nearly all forms of passive entertainment.

Because I'd like the world to be black and white.

Things are much simpler that way.

Or, so I thought.

Sienna, my poor wife, has put up with me for 5 years, and slowly, slowly, I have been willing to participate in movie watching. Now, a good drama still bores me to death. The writer Dave Eggers discusses fiction as driving down the street in a clown costume -- you know it's a clown costume, everyone else knows it's a clown costume, but we all pretend not to notice. The costume is the fiction, and the pretending is our suspension of disbelief. Now, when I studied film-making, I started noticing the clown. Because it's an f'n clown -- and, guess what, I'm not getting emotionally attached to a clown. ("guess what, I'm not. . ." could've been tatooed on my face from ages 15-23)

Now, what I have discovered, is that the movies that I could still really whole-heartedly enjoy were the ones that purported to no higher purpose than entertainment.

With that in mind, I present -- Jay's first Very Short Way After the Fact Film Review!

Today's film is Transformers, Directed by Michael Bay.

I will fight, to the death if necessary, anyone who argues that this film is anything but the absolute best movie it could be; given, of course, that's it's about transforming robots from outer-space.

Grade: A

So ends Jay's first Way After the Fact Film Review.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Off to Sleep

I just put Peja to sleep with 30 pages of Danny the Champion of the World, which was the very first book I ever read cover-to-cover in one sitting. I'm not sure how much she's getting, her 4th birthday is still a couple of months away, but every night she chooses it over the stacks of Dora and Franklin, so I'm hopeful that her mind's eye contains the same dark woods I conjured twenty years ago.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

1984


In 1984 or 1985, my father had had just about enough.

The digital revolution was just beginning, and, it's first victim was our old upright piano. Roland started selling a home piano, 88 keys, fake wood veneer, 6 sounds (2 piano, vibraphone, harpsichord, clavicord, and, oddly enough, Electric Piano), it also had chorus and stereo (stereo!) vibrato. I'd just be taking a stab at the price, but it's safe to say that it cost more than my car is currently worth. Oh, right, and the most important part -- it had a headphone jack. You could play the piano, QUIETLY! Now, headphones are nothing now -- were nothing then; everyone had the big closed-eared hi-fi headphone for listening to records or the radio. But little girls and boys practicing the piano, for 270 years, had been a LOUD painful endeavor. My grandfathers had suffered it, but my father would not. As surely as the cassette tapes which ran the colour computer in my father's office spun, we would practice in silence.

Skip ahead, skip ahead. . .

It was decided that the piano would no longer be in the living room. I'm not sure if this was around the time my mom bought a baby-grand piano (take that, digital revolution!), but my sister and I did battle. She was still taller than me (most people think she still is, but let the tale of the tape prove my inch advantage, gained in 1995), so I settled on a shared custody. Now, digital it may have been, but that sucker was heavy. There is no doubt that it outweighed me well into puberty, and possibly until my frosh 15 was gained. My dad moved it up to Tara's room, washed his hands of the matter, and there it stayed for the requisite fortnight.

On the evening of the transfer, I sneaked into Tara's room, detached the top of the piano, and somehow heaved it off it's stand and onto the floor. I slid it on it's side (thank god for the carpet) to the stairs, and then tipped and wrestled and pried and begged and eased and elbow-dropped it down three flights to the basement studio with my drums (then just a snare and splash cymbol), my little keyboard, and my karaoke machine / P.A. System).


Well, needless to say, since my father had already moved it for the last time, and I certainly wasn't going to help, my sister never managed to retrieve the piano.

Skip Ahead. . . Skip Ahead. . .

I have had it for about 20 years longer than I deserved. I have written and recorded endless records with it. Before I bought my bass, I used the lower keys to fill in my arrangements. Shortly after Sienna and I got married, I bought a sound module and added a few hundreds of great quality sounds (if you've got my records, all the organ, accordion, flute, bells, and steel drums were all played on the old Roland).

A few weeks back my boss Tim let me know that the country band I played piano for might be interested in some live Jay piano action. Now, as the Roland still nearly outweighs me, I'm not about to haul it around, so I'm buying a light (8 lbs!) 61 midi controlling keyboard to use with the sound module. So, I logged on MSN Messenger and dropped my sister a note, which said, in essence -- your turn. I might even deliver it this time.

Thursday, May 01, 2008

4th Place. . .

We faced off with some of my old teammates last night -- in the basement of the ancient KCVI, which I thought was a really cool spooky building.

At half-time we were 8 points down, and the final score was 38-30ish. We were short-handed, missing our energy-king Jeff (who was off doing music theatre. . . uh. . .), and our rebounding was lacking (we have this skinny dude with long hair who just can't seem to box anyone out. . .).

I'm sorry to see the season end -- it was a great time, and I want to thank Bryn, Kaili, Sara, Jeff, Dave, and Dennis -- as well as super-subs Iain and Emily -- for teaching and tolerating me for 3 1/2 months. I hope I'll get to play with or against all of them in the future.

Losing to my old team was kind of bitter-sweet; they play a great game, and their shooting was fantastic -- as well, both sides were cheering good plays, regardless of which team pulled it off. It was how all rec games should be.

I think I'm going to check out the pick-up ball at Central Public; they play on Wednesday nights too, so I'm finally free to go challenge the Skeleton Park Dads and Moms. I am prepared again to be schooled.

Hope you are well,

Jay.