Howdy Y'all

Nothing makes me happier than to know I am making difference. Unfortunately, these days I am not doing that. Being an unemployed part of society is really draining. This week’s cultural topic is:

COUNTRY MUSIC

This is also a game: guess how many country music titles are blatantly incorporated.

It seems every summer I get a little bit more into country music. I’m worried that eventually it will take over my main repertoire of music, but for now it’ll stay number two. Why? One magical event happens every year that increases exposure. This event is the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth aka the Calgary Stampede. Cal-GRY. Calgary turns country. Cow-town. Despite growing up with most of my friends in the city, they, like me, have become pretty countrified too.

My interest in country music is relatively recent. I grew up with the likes of Van Halen, Eric Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn blasting from the kitchen, and rock music constantly on the radio. My brother liked this kind of music but fell into a crowd that also liked rap (for some reason). Myself, I was always a rock kid – strayed off (for some reason) into ska and punk for a brief period, but came back to my senses and went back to the classics like the Stones, Zepplin and the later glam rock of Guns n Roses or Def Leppard.

The fundamentals of rock and country music are the same. Based on Blues patterns or 1-4-5 progressions, appreciation came easily once regular attendance at Cowboys nightclub’s 25c draft Thursdays in University made it impossible to avoid. We resisted at first, of course, but wearing cowboy hats (last count for me 8) to the bar and teaching hot girls to two step became fun. I ain’t as good as I once was, but the line dance set is still the highlight of my night, whether I’m stone sober or after ten rounds of Jose Quervo.

After I bought my first country album (not that I have all that many), I bought Led Zepplin III to counter act my potential fallacy. You see, though both of my parents are from Alberta, it was somehow looked down upon. My dad nearly kicked me out of the house when he heard Toby Keith coming from my computer....but after reasoning we agreed to disagree despite classic blues riffs existing in all country and rock.

I’m becoming worried because all I’ve been learning lately on the guitar are country songs and though they are catchy and easy to play, I’m not learning any new chords. It’s not tough, but someone’s gotta do it. Live country music is good too. They can put on a show just as well as any rocker – the only difference is that cowboy hats are allowed.

In other news, I recently had a photo of mine discovered on Flickr which was shortlisted, then approved for inclusion in an online guide of Calgary. It’s not great publicity and I will not anytime soon be making photography my main objective in life, but it’s pretty neat to be recognized for work, even if it is only for exposure. Everyone wants to be kind of a big deal – like playboys of the southwestern world.

Calgary Geese – Schmap Calgary Guide

What does taking photos have to do with country music and being unemployed? Not much. But no matter what, you can make a difference in the world no matter how small. So let’s get rowdy and give somebody a great big howdy. Trust me, the chicks dig it.

The Great Red and White

With Canada Day just around the corner (July 1 - tomorrow) many people may be ramping up their plans for the big mid-week day off. This week’s cultural topic is:

HOUSE PARTY

Sure, you could make your way down to the festivities around town, fight the crowds, overpay for drinks and battle traffic after the fireworks…which, ironically, is likely what I will be doing. But consider this option: party in a controlled environment at someone’s house.

They’ll have a nice little BBQ - maybe do up some steaks or burgers or chicken or veggie burgers for you weirdos. If they have the ability, they might have a little fire - hopefully in a fire pit – and of course – drink just enough to be satisfied but not too much that you can’t make it up for work on Thursday (unless you’re like me and don’t have a job in which case days of the week don’t really matter). If you’re lucky, you might even find a party with a hot tub in case it rains or gets characteristically Calgary-cold at night…

Attention Asian people:
YOU ARE NOT GOOD DRINKERS. Asian people suffer from what is known as ASIAN RED FACE – aka Asian Flush, Asian Glow, Red Cheeks, Oriental Flush…or more scientifically – Alcohol Flush Reaction. It’s caused by an asian gene’s inability to quickly metabolize alcohol intake and a lack alcohol dehydrogenase, an enzyme which breaks down simple drinking alcohol (ethanol) into the eventual digestible product – acetic acid. Approximately half of people with Asian descent are considered to be sensitive to this drinking condition. The interim byproduct of the conversion of ethanol to acetic acid is acetaldehyde, and it is this byproduct which causes capillary constriction through face, eyes, neck, and virtually all other epidermal surfaces and gives Asians that bright hue we all like to make fun of them for, leading them to make us think they are in fact way drunker than they may actually be.

Attention White/non Asian People:
Just because you aren’t Asian doesn’t mean you can’t suffer effects of acetaldehyde. This is a possibly (unconfirmed studies) carcinogenic byproduct and is one of the leading causes of the dreaded HANGOVER…but at least you won’t turn bright red after a couple sips of your favorite bevie.

Luckily for me, this deficiency skipped most of my asian-half of the family, though one time I had a really stiff and super spicy Caesar and was also sun burnt, so it might have looked like I had it, but several follow up attempts have confirmed that I am mostly immune.

Whether you're RED faced (Asian) or WHITE faced (non-Asian), the combination of faces at your house party will be perfect in the spirit of our great country's confederate anniversary. So this Canada Day, remember kids:

Whatever you do, this Bud’s for you…unless you’re Asian.

Procrastination Meeting: Tomorrow

Thought it would be fitting to throw up a post since I haven't officially written anything in more than approximately three weeks.This week's cultural topic is:

PROCRASTINATION

Over the last few months I have become a master of this act. Without hard deadlines, it becomes very easy to put things off. Excuses can constantly be made on why things aren’t done. The weather is nice. The weather is crappy. Traffic is congested. A good show is on TV. Youtube. Maybe you just don’t feel like it. (ps check out Sungha Jung on youtube)

Ever found yourself using one of those excuses in order to do something more fun and likely less productive? Maybe you play video games or watch a movie instead of cleaning the house – I have NEVER done that... Or maybe you sit outside and read a book instead of cooking dinner. But you still have to clean the house. You still have to eat dinner. You still have beat your newest game on Playstation 3. I still can’t pass Rockband on Expert – maybe because Green Grass and high tides is retardedly difficult even on difficult on bass, but we’ll talk about Rockband some other day.

Nay, we will talk about RockBand right now. Rockband is easily the sweetest video game ever made. Drums, guitar, bass, singing all in one magnificent plastic conconction? Absolutely brilliant. Anyone who has NOT played Rockband – STOP READING RIGHT NOW AND GO PLAY!

WAIT! DON’T LEAVE. COME BACK. Dang, just lost a reader two. Too late for them anyway. Their life is better now having played that awesome game. They’ll be back sooner or later. Anyway, anyone who HAS played and doesn’t like Rockband, I ask you this: what the hell? Classic rock songs in an interactive format with so many different difficulty levels (4) that even a geriatric could pass on a first attempt – what’s not to like?

I was talking with some people the other day about the merits of learning an instrument or new language, versus something like photography as a hobby. Argument was raised strongly support music (by musicians) and how it’s a skill you learn gradually and can often retain for the extent of your life with occasional practice and early dedication. The counter argument, of course, is that it DOES take a great deal of dedication, whereas photography relies heavily on the equipment at the photographer’s disposal. A beginner guitar or piano player will not be able to break out Stairway, but a first time photographer might be able to capture the world’s greatest scene (subjective, of course). I like to think I dabble a little in both: Travel inspired photography; Rockband inspired guitar.

Did you ever see the episode of Family Guy where “Stewie Kills Lois”? (Spoiler Alert!)Well, turns out at the end of the a two part episode, Stewie dies at the hands of his parents after taking over the world. Then we learn at the end it was a all a simulation Stewie was running and Bryan called him on it. Well that’s not really all that different from what has just happened here. Only this was probably way more entertaining. No real substance and time well wasted….but better to procrastinate than do something productive. Thanks for stopping in.

Trooper-less

“There could be only one…” – Mark Stanley, upon seeing the Trooper downtown

 Quotation could also have been “here for a good time, not a long time…”. This week’s culture topic is:

 

CARLESSNESS

 

No, I didn’t spell that wrong, nor did you read it wrong. I am without vehicle. I am, therefore, car-less. I mean, you could probably carelessly read the word wrong, but if you did, you would miss the point of what I am trying to get across. Well, there really isn’t a real point yet, but it’s the idea.

 

Beginnings:

My story with the Trooper dates back almost 3 years. The history before my ownership is somewhat hazy. All readings were in imperial units and for the first while I needed a cheat sheet for conversions. The alignment is slightly off and only while driving in the left lane of a highway was the steering wheel straight. It had oversized tires and the speedo read low. Before me, it was likely an off-roader because the owner who had it before I did had to do major repairs on the rear differential. My troubles with the vehicle were minimal. I bought it for only one thousand dollars.

 

Driving:

It probably needed new seals all around.. After an early overheat and thermostat replacement (which never actually fixed the problem), my car was somehow deemed highway worthy by most of my friends, my family and, finally, me. We took some pretty good drives out the mountains – shifting down into fourth gear when necessary – some easy drives up to Edmonton – which proves undoubtedly that they are at different elevations (study driven by fuel economy), and of course, had some pretty good times in the city. All I ever put into it was oil and a starter, oh and a non-rusty front bumper.

 

I believed in the vehicle. Sure it was unsafe by many people’s standards, but it got me around. By the end of its life, the end section of the exhaust was all but gone. I drove for the most part on PnP gas and the engine knew it. It was never the smoothest 2.6L engine but it was a failing clutch that eventually got the best of the machien. One time I backed into lamppost and needless to say, the lamppost won that battle. Big dent, cracked plastic. No biggie.

 

Math about it:

Let me let you know something. I will not be getting a brand new car anytime soon. Sure, it’s less attractive picking a girl up for a date in an old rust bucket, but I paid $1000 for three years of driving. Add in the repairs I had done and that’s $1500 and subtract the measly $250 I managed to sell it for the open market…1250 for 3 years of vehicle. Dang that’s good value. Plus, now it will be in a better place and will get that clutch and exhaust it’s been rumbling and screeching about for the last 6 months.

 

Personality:

You see, many people have made fun of my vehicles over the years…station wagons and SUVs (and I also owned a Honda Accord for one day, but then sold it back because it wouldn’t start when I went to pick it up). It has easily been the coolest (unfortunately) and best looking vehicle which I have ever owned (unfortunately). I would even say it looked kind of rugged (with rear tire on back) and had good tire to wheel well ratios. But your car kind of becomes a part of your personality, so I have learned over the years never to insult a person’s car, because that’s like insulting the person directly. After all, having an ugly car is sure a hell of a lot better than not having one at all.

 

I will finish this post off with a musical tribute to my late Isuzu Trooper. Feel free to play along if you know how…

 

The Trooper Song

   G     D         Em7

A long, nine-teen years ago,  

Am               C                Em                   D

I can still remember how that loud exhaust used to make me smile

     G      D    Em7

And I know if I had my chance,

      Am                 C                Em              C           D

That I could drive those people around and maybe they'd be happy for a while            

    Em          Am                   Em          Am

But April road made me shiver, with every gear change I'd deliver

 C          G        Am          C                      D

Bad news for the AMA, that one last mile I couldn’t make

   G          D           Em           Am7            D

I can't remember if I cried when I realized I had a broken ride

 G         D          Em

Something touched me deep inside

     C       D7    G   C   G

The day the TROOPER died…

CHORUS

    G    C         G        D

So bye, bye big old practical ride

     G            C            G        D

No you’re not a chevy - that’s no reason to hide

          G        C                  G           D

And the good old toy was drinkin' coolant and oil

         Em                          A7   Em                          D7

Singin' this will be the day that it dies, this will be the day that I dies

 (instrumental)

G C G D

G C G D

G C G D

   C                D7             G   C   G

…this will be the day the trooper died.

 

Big Bacon Classic

Holy crap Wendy’s Baconator sandwich is delicious. What the hell kind of anecdote is me eating a delicious and huge fastfood sandwich? Read and find out. This week’s cultural topic is:

ROOMMATES

As you may or may not know, I have been living at my friend James Bacon’s house for the last year. The catch? HE hasn’t been.

While finishing his degree in Edmonton, though not so much finishing as it is doing one entire one, the magical castle of Baconland had been left vacant for the greater part of the last 4 years (save for some months James did a work term in Calgary) and then, of course, until I began to call it once again my (borrowed) domain.

Pre-blog (and pre-me-even-knowing-what-blogs-were-and-perhaps-even-pre-the-existence-of-blogs) I lived here for a year in 2003/2004 during my studies at the University in Calgary. I moved in when my Dad and Step-mom moved to Holland (and moved back once they came back for second semester of fourth year). Rewind to just over 5 years ago: James was an aspiring med-student/doctor. Bacon-parents lived in Houston and visited fairly frequently. We managed to successfully be caught on every single party (two – because it only took two failed attempts for us to realise we wouldn’t get away with a third) to have parties at the Casa de Bacon. We didn’t have really great jobs but big things were on the horizon for both of us. We went out from time to time and had many friends at school, but somehow managed to NOT attract women. We both drove older vehicles that are now no longer with us in car form, and the house was littered with Bacon-mother’s creepy (yet somehow endearing) doll collection which scared us at night.

However, on one fateful day in March 2008, after what seemed to have been an attempted break-in to the Bacon Palace, Bacon-boy and Bacon parents decided to give me the honour of protecting their fruits…or loins…or whatever. I moved in second week of April.

My relationship with the Bacon house has had it’s ups and downs and (mainly due to mismanagement of things I simply didn’t know about) we had some troubles…pilot light on the furnace one day when it was -20C, hot tub heater crapped out because the filters were plugged, a pipe burst in the garage when it wasn’t turned off for winter…but that was pretty much it. The big TV and great stereo system were an excellent addition to my Playstation and it’s Rockband setup and the beautiful back yard made for great BBQing in what was an unnecessarily cool 2008 summer. But alas, it’s a huge house. Too big for one guy and lucky for me, that changed last week.

When James moved back, things went pretty smoothly. Moving truck was unloaded without any major hitches, garage was cleaned out and looks great now, and we have a great arrangement for food. I buy food and cook it deliciously, James buys beer. This is a temporary arrangement, but it works for far. James has had a few roommates over the years, Joel, those two guys in that dumpy place, Steve, Ashley, the crazy old lady in Cold Lake, but things sometimes seem to come around full circle. This time, the circle is James and Kai being roommates (of course, not the roommate by definition or dorm rooms or English roommate standards – housemates). I am unemployed salesman and James is fully qualified to soon be an engineer. Pretty sweet. But even 5 years later, many things seem eerily similar. Bacon-parents live in the Middle East. We still both don’t have jobs (though not for lack of effort - I HAD one and have prospects and James HAS one, but doesn’t start until summer). We still tend to repel women, even though we’ve had our successes and SHOULD have the system figured out by now. Neither of us have properly running vehicles (with the Trooper drivable but on the fritz and the Dakota completely dismantled but on the repair). And of course the (big Bacon) classic clincher? The dolls still creep the living shit out of me

Maybe the Baconator can come over and take care of everything.