Please join us for another evening of fun – some Burns, some Scottish music and Dance, lottsa whisky, your neighbours and, of course, the Haggis!
Note: The Bar Celebration following will take place at The Free Times Café -320 College at Major – shortly after 9:30 pm till closing
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This band started as a lark filling in on Scottish covers for our first Burns gig at the Free Times Café in 2004. When we play for you this January 25th we will be entering our 13th year together. Who knew? Sometimes small doors open up into big Living Rooms
And we cannot have a monthly gig (or two) without a monthly rant containing, not incidentally, a monthly slag at bagpipes … I say be kind as it seems to amuse him. But he does seem to approaching, if not fully in, the O/C camp and is thinly disguising a deep love of The Noble Instrument, notwithstanding protestations.
A while ago I was looking for something to watch on TV (not for me really, but rather to keep in touch with the world around me so I would be better prepared to write these little blurbs – yes I care too much – it’s been said before). Anyway, on the listings page I saw a show called Bass Masters. Now, being a musician, or at least someone who hangs out with musicians, I was intrigued. Would the show profile pioneering rock bass players like John Entwistle or Jack Bruce; perhaps the funk masters like James Jamerson or Bootsy Collins; maybe jazzers like Charlie Mingus orJaco Pastorius. I was intrigued.
Imagine my disappointment then when I watched the show only to discover that it wasn’t about bass players but rather about people who fish for bass (damn homonyms, no wonder English is so tricky). Yes, this was an entire show about people fishing, and not just fishing, but specifically fishing for bass. And this wasn’t some one-off show, no way – this was the last show in the series for the year. That’s right, an entire season of watching people fish for bass – be still my heart.
I do not think it will come as a surprise to many folks to learn that playing the mandolin and singing with Gordon’s Acoustic Living Room is not my full time job. Being one of the ten members of this wonderful musical ensemble, while bringing audiences much joy, does not do quite as well in terms of bringing in the cash. As a result, I do require a day job (and saying I require a day job implies that said day job somehow supplements the income I make from the band which may be stretching the income earning ability of the band to a large degree).
I’ve noticed that whenever I ask people how they’re doing (which I do because I’m a polite person willing to feign interest in the lives of others) I am almost always given the answer, “O.K., but I’m really busy.” Being busy is clearly the thing to be these days.
I know it feels like this election has gone on forever, but that’s because it has. While much (most) of the coverage has focused on what one party is saying about how the other party or parties are inept etc., it has not all been negative; indeed there is one topic that has been dealt with only in a positive manner. I am speaking, of course, of hair (for those of a certain vintage or students of Broadway cue: “Give me a head with hair/long beautiful hair/etc/etc.”
I understand that some people are critical of the 25 week federal election campaign (or whatever length it is) that we are now enduring – the longest campaign since the last longest campaign, which was apparently a long time ago. What critics don’t seem to understand however is that we need a long election campaign. This is a big country and it’s hard to get around, what with the trains not going everywhere and the telegraph being a cumbersome way of transmitting the news. Oh wait, that was 1915 – in 2015 we have airplanes and 24 hour news and the Internet so, yeah, why is this campaign 43 weeks long?
Whenever I get the Saturday edition of the Globe and Mail (motto – “Canada’s National Newspaper” if you live in Toronto) the first section I always turn to – naturally – is the Style Section. In looking at it this weekend I was thrilled to see that temporary tattoos are now cool – and I hasten to add here that we’re not talking about those rub-on tattoos of the Teenage Ninja Turtles or Barbie that kids have but rather grown up type tattoos – which admittedly could include the Teenage Ninja Turtles or Barbie but only in an ironic way.
I had a disturbing thing happen to me recently; I discovered I am not worthy of the food I want to buy. Let me explain.
A couple weeks ago I went to my local healthy grocery store – to hide its identity let’s call it The Humongous Kumquat – to buy a loaf of bread. And before I proceed, let me make very clear that the reason the kumquats are so humongous is due solely to excellent organic farming techniques and has nothing to do with the use of any pesticides or GMOs.
Anyway, I’m in the bread aisle, ignoring all the gluten-free breads because gluten is my friend (or at least not my sworn enemy – yet) when I come upon a bread I’ve never seen before. It’s called Superfit 55 Grain Bread. Not only does this bread have all the current grains (wheat, rye, barley, etc.) and all the ancient grains (amaranth and whatever the heck else qualifies as an ancient grain) but also 14 future grains – yes grains that have yet to be officially discovered but are not created through any GMOish activity.
Much has been reported about the recent NDP electoral victory in Alberta, but, as usual, the real significance of this event has been missed by the mass media. It has also been missed by the non-mass media too (and by the way what do you call media that isn’t mass media – the no mas media?).
What, you may wonder, is the story that everyone has missed? I’ll tell you – I don’t really have a choice at this point I suppose – the victory of the NDP in Alberta provides the absolute definitive proof that rock and roll is no longer dangerous. See, now that I’ve said it I’m sure you’re nodding your head in agreement going ‘that’s right, why didn’t I think of that.’ If rather than nodding your head, you’re scratching it thinking ‘I thought he’d lost it a while ago, but now I’m sure,’ let me explain…