Great Big Sea in Kingston: Nov 27th, 2010

Great Big Sea's Safe Upon The Shore Tour hit Kingston last Saturday night.

I had the good fortune to have a ticket provided by my dear friends Kevin and Myriam (thank you one further time!) to some seats 5 rows back on the floor in front of the stage.

Murray, Alan, Sean, Bob and in the back on the drums, Kris.

  The K-Rock Center seating was tight for anyone who wasn't a Twilight escapee or an anorexic, so most of us immediately gravitated to our feet and stayed there for three hours.

The concert was a mix of the old and the new, starting off with several lively old favourites and rolling into the newer material, including some powerful sea shantys. Powerful stuff and dark in quite a few places - there were jokes made on stage about having 3 songs in the set with hanging involved and another about chemical workers. Sean pointed out it was worse because his toddler was singing 'Old Black Rum'!

Sean plays the balron.

The band did two long sets, running overlength in both sets (they were on stage 45 minutes longer than the people running the K-Rock Center expected). They indicated they had no professional obligations the following day (the rest of their tour schedule is hairy) and were in no hurry. They were conversational and showed good humour and an appreciation for their own success.

They spoke of their US touring, of their generous Canadian nature in congratulating the Americans on their splendid Silver medal finish in Men's and Women's Olympic Hockey, and of how greatful they were to their fans for their success. It was a near sellout crowd at the K-Rock Center as testament to that success.

Alan sings an encore by himself.

They also proved they could play a ridiculous number of instruments with equal facility - I saw Alan play acoustic guitar, something that looked like a mandolin, a banjo, and an electric guitar (at the least). Sean played harmonica, shakers, guitar, balron and probably other instruments I missed. Kris did drums and accordian plus wielded a mean fiber optic camera. Bob is in a league all his own: Accordions three, fiddle, guitar, shakers, tin whistle, flute, and I'm sure I'm missing several others.




Great Big Sea demonstrated showmanship; They made the human connection with the people of Kingston by sharing a shared love of hockey, of music, and of good fun (and apple juice *wink*). They shared an their humour, their love of the maritimes and the music of the east coast and their love of Canada first and foremost.

The boys backup Sean on the chorus.

They also made tangible the connection to their past by speaking of playing at Queens University, at A.J. Hangar, and at the Grand Theater, and partying on Princess Street. Tir Nan Og was also mentioned. These are some of the landmarks of the town and they've been in and out of their since  the mid 1990s, claiming they've "never had a bad night in Kingston".

If you like maritime music, if you like folk music, if you like dark tales about the sea or about life on the east coast, or if you like jumping and stomping kitchen party music, Great Big Sea has it all. Vocals, instruments, and powerful or funny lyrics - they are the musical triple threat, to be sure.



Well worth the money. I'm considering raiding a piggy bank to see them again in Ottawa.

Check out their albums. They're worth it. My favourite tunes are "Recruiting Sergeant" and "General Taylor", but some of the songs Sean sang lately, presumably from Safe Upon The Shore, make we want to grab that Album too. I'll bet Steve Jobs is waiting to sell them to me via the iSuckTheMoneyOutOfYourWallet interface.

Alan, Kris, Bob, Sean and Murray: Good show, Lads!

A Worrisome Development

On the Saturday before last, I moved Derek. During the move, I thought a wasp stung me and I'm allergic. But I could find no insertion and although the arm hurt like a sting, I saw no red lump forming, nor any red tracery running up my veins as usually transpires in such cases with me.

I finished helping with the unpacking and even scared off Jormundgandr, the World Serpent, to protect the McQuay householders.

Then, Tuesday night last week, I discovered a lump on my left inner forearm about 2" above the wrist. It was no sore nor itchy. It was fairly solid and had appeared, to me, out of nowhere. It moved around, but felt fleshy.

The truth is, when I encountered this, I was unsettled. I'm of the age now where things could happen more likely than not and some of them could be quite bad.

I took some pictures. About 30mm radially, and about 20mm longitudinally, maybe 5-8mm deep (hard to measure).

On Wednesday night, I broke down and went to the clinic across the way. I've been needing a new G.P. and they were accepting patients. I saw a nice young Serbian (I think) woman, Dr. Cavarcek (could have the spelling wrong).

She poked and prodded, indicating that the mobile nature and the roundness mitigated for something less harmful, but the hardness was a concern. She said it probably was not life threatening, but I could not correlate it back to any blow and it didn't look like a wasp or bee sting of any sort. She felt an ultrasound was required, then possibly or likely a biopsy.

Ominously, she told me to return if it seemed to be growing quickly.

I went to schedule an ultrasound on Thursday morning, after not sleeping well Wednesday night. I talked to a couple of folks, but not many as some of my friends are the sorts to worry overmuch or have a lot on their own plates.

The ultrasound places I talked to first (first two) were indicated Nov 24+ dates. Eek! The third place was good and gave me today at 1 PM (Tuesday), so a week after initial discovery. That seemed reasonable. I only had to endure 4-5 days of uncertainty.

I found out I had a sort of unsettled anxiety. Not a concious layer fear - I haven't ever been afraid of dying. Frankly, I didn't expect to make it past 35. But an unconcious anxiety, that was interesting, if annoying.

The concious concerns were more about the mess my apartment was in, my financial paperwork was in, my non-existent will was in, and my estate would be in. Also of course I realized that the efforts I'd made in the last months to start considering a will were insufficiently advanced.

I never made a will before because it didn't seem to serve a purpose. I had no one to leave anything much to. And I didn't think I'd need it.

Well, this convinced me I'd been negligent. I have a Godson. He has a sick little brother. I have many other friends with children. I have some friends who have been very good to me (you know who you are). I have some friends who might be able to use a hand.

So all that made me think I should specify where things went and get it written down as well as getting my life and financials in order.

None of this was from a dark fear of what might come from the scan, but was just a pragmatic realization I'm not administratively prepared to shuffle off this mortal coil, if that was what was required.

I looked up some of the options: Lipoma and Adenopathy seemed the least of the evils, Liposarcoma sounded scary and likely deadly.

I still have no fear of dying. I have a fear of leaving a mess behind. I have a fear of my books not being delegated to a good home. I have a fear of my parents being left without me. Dying itself... that's a natural thing and I've been at peace with that since my teenage years. Maybe it is the mark of not being so attached to my own life - it seems unremarkable most days. Maybe it is simply the knowledge that you can't cheat the Reaper. The realization of my mortality at an early age made joining the Army Reserve easier - I actually accepted again the possibility of a death and it didn't phase me.

But then, I don't have a wife or children. I do have elderly parents and that is now a concern and I'm now a proxy second tier backup parent for a young man. But those are still sort of diffuse compared with what it must be like to have a spouse or children and have to face mortality.

Anyway, today was my visit to the ultrasound clinic. It was fast, although the scan tech went and brought in the radiologist. The radiologist, probably unofficially, indicated that it was in the muscle layer, it had a pocket/clot of blood, and was likely a muscle tear. He said athletes frequently have these as do people doing 'unaccustomed exercise'. I guess that could mean 41 year old computer programmers moving things.

The doc will have the final word. But it looks like it'll either go away on its own or be aspirated and drained surgically. No biopsy. No tumour. No cancer. (At least, not there - that's the optimist in me!)

So I do feell lucky. Another friend just reported to me quietly that he had a dose of diabetes. My mom's leg has been cold, possibly signifying a circulation issue. They are talking about taking off the bottom part of Dad's leg. All of that comes with the signs of mortality even more obvious than my grey hairs.

Still, I'm glad I got a by on this one. I still want to see Scotland, NZ, Australia, bits of Germany, Belgium, Ireland and England. I still want to write a book. I still want to read my unfinished books (I should live forever!). I still want to see my Godson grow up and my other friend's kids become fully developed adults. I still want to play some more games and share in the warm wit and companionship of my dear friends and cook nice meals and treats for them every so often. I still want to sail. I still want to connect again with old friends.

So, I've got time to get my life organized again (at least it seems that way). I've got time to keep moving on the things I want to do or need to do. I've got time to lose some weight and to write and to travel.

And I've got time to thank each and every one of my friends who has shared so many times, good and bad, with me over the years. To thank them for being my friends and for being outstanding human beings. On the dark days, I just think of them to counteract any negative perception of the bulk of humanity.

I've got a bum wrist for a while. But I'm good. Really. Something like this really reminds you what matters.

Best regards to all of my friends, wherever you may be!



Tom B.

PS - To show you the universe has a sense of humour, it throws me this bone, this good outcome. And then it drops the OPP on me for an expired Valtag. $110 to remind me that the world goes on even when you sometimes gum up and don't get the job done.

PPS - I'm still good though. It's hard to damp this level of good.

Surprisingly Good Chicken!

• A blurp of olive oil in a non-stick saucepan
• 2 air-dryed chicken breasts (or some such fancy folderol)
• Flour, in which the breasts were rubbed to cover them
• A splat of butter in the olive oil
• Salt and pepper

Saute the chicken until it is about 75-80% done - maybe starts to brown a bit on the outside, and the inside fluids come out clear if you skewer it. While cooking, turn frequently - doubly so if using a non-stick pan.

Set the chicken aside in a bowl at that point.

Add to your saucepan:

• 3 cloves of minced garlic (or else garlic powder as I apparently forgot to get garlic!)
• fresh cilantro (I used refrigerated paste, nearly as good)
• fresh oregano (I used the freeze dried stuff, nearly as good)
• more salt and pepper if you need it
• some parsley flakes
• 1/2 to 3/4 cup of white wine

Cook over a medium heat, turning the chicken fairly infrequently, until it is done. Reduce the sauce until it is a desired thickness - I went for less thick than gravy, more thick than wine - maybe salad dressing thickness.

Serve with some rice or a salad, dump the remainder of the reduced sauce over the chicken to get all the flavour explosion your taste buds could ask for!

Surprsingly good! Tangy, with a hint of sweet (from the wine, I used a white that was sweeter rather than dry), but infused with the melange of herbal flavours. And moist!

For a first try at 'basic chicken' (not in a khorma or butter chicken sauce or a soup), I'm pretty happy with the outcome. I don't usually eat much chicken as I find most of it flavourless and often dried out.

I think I'll be eating more chicken now that I know this easy, tasty, moist chicken recipe!

Friends help you move, best friends help you move bodies (or snakes)

 
This last Saturday, I journeyed to the scenic town of Kingston. I made this pilgrimage because my dear friend Mr. Bugbear was moving house. Or, more accurately, my dear friend Mr. Bugbear, his family members, and his dear friends were moving house.

He was finally achieving his dream of once again fleeing civilization for the scenic backwoods of Ontario, where he and Mrs. Bugbear could raise true free-range children in a green space. A large yard, a monster workshop (and not just because Mr. Bugbear will be working there), a nice house, and a yard with all sorts of apple trees... a castle in the rough!

Mr. Bugbear and the Bugbears' male relatives did much of the heavy shufting on Friday. On the Saturday, there was some ancillary loading to be accomplished, but it filled maybe 20% of the 5 ton truck.

Feeling somewhat underwhelmed at how little we got to help due to the success Friday, Sir Douglas and I ventured to begin unpacking several pods worth of pre-packed goods that the Bugbears had packed and had shipped out to sit, like looming menhirs, upon their drive.

Unpacking these pods proved a worthwhile venture, both in terms of making Sir Douglas and myself feel truly useful and because Mr. Bugbear has a formidable pile of hardcover books. Mr. Bugbear's parental unit provided the pickup bed to assist in pod-to-back-of-house delivery and the library was transhipped without incident.

There was also the moving of a couch downstairs, using years of Furniture Ninja Training. It worked out well and nothing was broken, much like the move of the clearly-compensating-if-you-get-my-drift LCD uberscreen.

Somewhere along the line, one of the neighbours (a nice couple with two young chitlins) showed up to introduce themselves. Shortly thereafter, another local denizen showed up. A small garter snake (well, I'm guessing, I wouldn't know a garter snake from a plumbing snake...) showed up, coming in while we were unloading books.

My theory is he was looking for a warm place to sleep for the winter. He might also have smelled cat and thought it was a delicacy. Hard to say, he's a snake after all.

He wasn't as big around as my ring finger and only about fifteen inches long. However, this provoked a modicum of minor panic. Various suggestions were made, several of which involved his demise which I thought a bit unnecessary. The serpent-o-phobes in the house disagreed, but since they were unwilling to interact with the creature, my kinder nature prevailed.

I attempted to bag and remove our small, serpentine friend. I concede that snakelike flexibility and agility makes it hard to bag such a critter. However, I then opted for stomping percussion to 'encourage' our guest to s-s-slither his way back out the way he came, and he complied. He then dropped between the boards of the deck, where I suspect he and other snakes must regularly dwell.

So, the harmless serpent was saved, the terrified househoulders were rescued, and justice triumphed out throughout the lands!

A good move, a nice new home, another construction project or 10 to involve myself in, and a promise to let me harvest some apples for jam. (Note: Said promise was not cleared with Mrs. Bugbear, so I do not consider it actually binding...)

 

Visiting Missouri

 
I just returned from visiting my dear cousin Alan and his lovely and talented wife Linda in Clinton, MO.

There was a trip to the Truman Dam and the man-made (huge) Truman Lake.

There was a birthday cake, carrot with coconut pecan icing.

There was beer. Never to the point of regret, just a steady flow of 2-4 drinks a day (some were Rye Whisky after I found a 26-er for $10 US and that was a mid priced brand... if I lived in Missouri, with a 40-oz vodka bottle for $7, I'd fear for my liver). The drinks were just pleasant accompanyment and aided in significant unwinding.

Missouri was a bit too hot most days (very humid mid eighties) and a bit too wet (torrentially so) a few others, but the day everyone had off work was nice as was the last weekend.

There was some really good pizza including a visit to Imo's in Kansas city. Also a visit to the StackShack for some excellent BBQ. There was also a good pizza or two from the local Dominos in Clinton (good!) and El Sombre's enchiladas and tacos and so forth. All in all, I ate well.

There was much XBox... a first for me. Red Dead Redemption (cowboy RPG/shooter) was a scream - some out of place tech (M1998 broom-handle Mauser or the M1911) and was easily the most fun shooter I've played in a long time! FIFA (soccer) was frustrating but fun. Worms (casual game involving worms using various weapons to whack the other team) was funny. Modern Warfare 2 was graphically impressive, but gameplay was a bit silly - when a bunny hopping CT operator leaped round a corner and blasted me with a Barret .50 in mid-leap, that more or less defined the game for me.

There was karaoke - one day Alan and I scorched and abused a variety of tunes (many Scots pop hits and folk bits I hadn't heard) and another day it was Linda and I (she has an excellent singing voice) doing the Eagles and some similar material. I know I personally exterminated Loch Lommond, some CCR, and did a quite passable job on Billy Joel's We Didn't Start The Fire (that's a fast tune). And yes, before you ask, me and karaoke - their WAS alcahol involved.

Mostly, me and Alan just hung out. That was spiffy. I quite enjoy my cousin even when he's gone off his noodle with his theories about the moon landing, the pentagon crash on 9/11 and some other oddities. I assume he was hit in the head with a fitba' one time too many during his days as a young soccer hooligan.

A totally enjoyable trip, I look forward to visiting again. Linda and Alan were excellent hosts, and Charlie and Winston (the cats) were both affectionate as well.