A really bad photo of Harvey and me. I’m the good looking one.
I live in the federal riding of Calgary Centre. We are having a by-election on Monday November 26. Though I’m hardly a political commentator I do have a few thoughts on this election that I hope will be of interest, particularly to my fellow Calgarians living in this riding.
What is perhaps most interesting about this election is that this particular seat is even up for grabs in the first place. I have lived in Calgary for almost twenty years, having grown up in Saskatchewan and lived in Ontario before I came to Calgary. My first impression politically here was that it wouldn’t matter who ran in an election, as long as they had a blue sign with their name on it, they would win. (Which is still true to a certain extent – how else to explain the election of someone like Rob Anders in the riding north of here?)
If it was true elsewhere in Alberta, it was certainly true in this riding which includes the neighbourhood of Mount Royal, one of the wealthiest and most Conservative ridings in the country. One doesn’t expect to see any radical change up there on the mountain. I once wrote a play called Sitting on Paradise that actually takes place in a mythical house on one of those streets. The matron of that house, Dotty Beauchamps, says at one point in the play: “Change is never good. Nothing good ever comes of it.” No one who saw the play thought that line didn’t ring true coming out of her mouth.
And so wasn’t I surprised one day this summer when an acquaintance of mine who has been closely associated with the Conservative Party for decades came charging down the hill, mad as hell about the way the Conservative nomination was going? I don’t know all the details but it sounded to me like she thought their process of electing a candidate had been put off course by a decision from the Prime Minister’s Office to inject a candidate into the riding. The candidate who was chosen and is subsequently running was not acceptable to my friend and so she and many of her friends and family have jumped over to the Liberal Party, backing candidate Harvey Locke.
For a number of reasons, much of it going back to the days of Peter Lougheed and Pierre Trudeau and the battle for Alberta oil revenues, it is not easy for these folks to vote Liberal. Yet in their minds it was the only choice they had. In the telling of the story to me, my friend made me understand one critical issue. The old Progressive Conservative Party, the one she had always supported, the party of Peter Lougheed and Joe Clark, to name but a few, is no more. The current Conservative Party is nothing more than the old Reform Party thinly disguised, and to put it mildly, there is nothing progressive about the Reform Party.
What was wanted was a fiscally conservative candidate who was nonetheless progressive in his attitudes towards the environment, the arts, education etc etc, and so enter Harvey Locke.
I first met Harvey in the Auburn Saloon which is the official clubhouse of the theatre and broader artistic community of Calgary. He had with him a book of naturalist art which he himself edited, which is really a lovely published version of the art from a show he curated at a gallery in Banff. Harvey has been deeply involved in the establishment of a wildlife and nature preserve stretching from Yellowstone Park in the south to as far as the Yukon in the north. Not just the preserve, but artistic depictions of it.
To I say I was impressed would be an understatement. An other thing that I find impressive and just a bit surprising about Harvey Locke is that his undergraduate degree from U of C is in French (whoever heard of such a thing!). He is married to a francophone woman from Quebec, with French being the language of their household, so he is a rare example of a fluently bilingual Calgarian. Let me just say, the guy is for real. If you want to check out his resume, Google him. I hope I have made my point that he is a worthy candidate.
With the rejuvenation of the Liberal Party and the emergence of Justin Trudeau, it would seem that Harvey Locke and the Liberals could go far, so far as to form the next government. In the future, with Harvey Locke as our MP, this riding could actually have a strong voice in Ottawa.
For me, I guess because I have met the man and like him and what he stands for, it’s a clear decision whom I will vote for. For a change, I feel that the person I am voting for actually has a chance to win the election.
Had my story ended here, you might expect a big shakeup in Calgary Centre come Monday, but for one thing – the unexpected emergence of Chris Turner, the Green Party candidate.
In the past, a vote for the Greens in this riding, and in many others around the country, would register as little more than a protest vote. I know this, I have done it myself. And yet in this election, Chris Turner has clearly gathered critical momentum making this suddenly a three way race.
Looking at my Facebook, I see that most of my friends in the arts community are supporting Turner. It reminds me of the momentum Naheed Nenshi gathered in the last civic election. In fact, many of the same people who are behind Turner helped get Calgary the best mayor in Canada.
I would never suggest that anyone, even the Conservative Reformers, vote against their own conscience. That said, in my mind there are two very good candidates in this election. (There is also Dan Meades from the NDP who ventured into Caffe Beano one morning while I was there, brave soul, you have to give him credit for running in a riding where he has a snowball’s chance in hell.) Of the two viable candidates from the left, I think that Harvey and the Liberals have the best chance of creating an alternative to the present regime and so that in part is why he has my vote.
My fear is that the third candidate, the Reformer/Conservative, who isn’t so good, who can hardly be bothered to campaign, of whom I have never heard a good word spoken, and who will only be a semi-warm body taking up space on a back bench, will go to Ottawa. The opposing vote will once again be split, and for all the excitement, nothing will have changed after all.
Whatever happens, it’s been an interesting ride. Whatever the outcome, you can’t help but feel that things are changing in Canadian politics.
At his recent concert in Calgary, Leonard Cohen sang his song “Democracy is Coming to the USA.” Could it be coming to Calgary, as well? Let’s hope.
Sometimes change is a good thing, after all.
Thanks for reading.
I’ve taken 20 photos of Harvey, all of them bad. So I just poached this one. Sorry!
Those of us lucky enough to have been at Calgary’s Saddledome on Friday evening were treated to an amazing concert given by Leonard Cohen and his remarkable ensemble of musicians. Thanks to my friend Zenon West, I witnessed this event from front row centre. Maybe it had to do with my close proximity to the stage, or maybe it was just THAT GOOD, but I really believe last night’s concert was one of the high points of my life.
It was interesting, hearing those songs once again, this time sung by the man who wrote them. So many of them I know, word for word. And yet this familiarity comes not so much from over exposure through the mass media, as it might, say, in the case of Bob Dylan; rather it comes from my own listening to his music, first on vinyl then on cassettes and then on CD’s and now on iTunes or YouTube.
Plus, I’ve read the books.
I tell this story, my friends, and it’s true, and there’s something in it about how far we have come as a nation in the last thirty years or so.
When I was studying English Lit at the University of Regina in the mid 1970’s, I took the required CanLit class. For one of those COMPARE AND CONTRAST essays, I planned to write a paper comparing and contrasting (what else??) Dylan Thomas’s In My Craft or Sullen Art with Leonard Cohen’s You Have the Lovers.
But I wasn’t allowed to write that paper. Why? Because I was told that Leonard Cohen was not a major artist. But that was then and this is now. He was major to me, even then, and it would seem he is to the world now.
Listening last night, lulled into a kind of transcendental bliss by the overwhelming artistry of the show, I had a flash that the music and the poetry of Leonard Cohen hit us and move us so deeply because of the two major themes he has constantly and honestly and passionately explored throughout his career: our spiritual quest, and our physical, sensual yearnings, and how we reconcile both within one being. His music hits you in the head and in the guts and everywhere in between, especially the heart.
Leonard Cohen is 78 years old now. Last night’s performance began just after 8:00 PM and went almost to midnight. (Note to self: start doing yoga!!) When he gave over the stage to his fellow musicians for a solo or for a song, he never left to get a drink of water or to towel down – he stood right there, hat doffed, in deepest reverence of the amazing artists he has surrounded himself with on this tour.
Elegant, intelligent, inspirational.
That’s about all I have to say about it.
I leave you with Alexandra Leaving, that was sung last night by Sharon Robinson, who wrote the song with LC. Her performance last night was one of the greatest things I have ever had the good fortune to experience.
I needed a place to store my bicycle for the winter, other than my front hallway of my apartment. I have always been friendly with my building manager (we’re both from Saskatchewan, so how could we not be friendly with each other?!) and had written her an email asking if there was perhaps a safe place somewhere in the building where I could store it until spring.
When I was paying my rent the other day she said it was no problem, to bring her the bike and she would store it in a safe and cozy place for the winter. (Sorry to disappoint my friends in the cycling community, but I just can’t face the thought of winter cycling. God, I hate the winter, it’s only November and I’m fed up with it already but I digress.)
So I brought the bike down and as I was handing it off to her, she asked me if I knew of anyone who was a good piano teacher. She has a seven year old daughter who has expressed a desire to take lessons.
“I know lots of people who could teach her,” I said.
As I said this, I wasn’t letting on that I myself had once taught a lot of piano lessons in a different place, in a different life time. I put myself through the first few years of university teaching piano lessons at the old Arcade Music Studios in Regina. (The biggest claim to fame about that place is that Jack Semple taught guitar lessons down the hall from me. We also went to high school together. But more on Jack another time.) But I wasn’t ready to admit this at this particular time.
“I can ask around for you, if you like,” I said.
“Is it expensive?” she asked.
“It is a little,” I said. You see for some of us, thirty or forty dollars a week is a lot. My daughter was lucky in this, in that my mother bless her soul always paid for her piano lessons, otherwise she might never have had them. For some of us, this is a prohibitive amount.
“Didn’t I read somewhere that you used to play the piano?” she asked, searching, reaching.
“Yes I did,” I said, “But that was a long time ago.”
She was wearing an oversized hat and she looked at me in the eye and removed the hat to reveal a bald head that could only mean one thing.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Since June,” she said, indicating with her hand her chest area. “It’s just been hard, I had to quit work and it’s just been so hard . . . .”
There was, as we say in the theatre, a lengthy pause. We teared up a little at the stupid injustice of it, the gross unfairness of it, the shitty rotten timing of it all.
“You know,” I said. “I actually have a keyboard up in my apartment. I could probably get her started. It’s been a while, but it’s just like riding a bike, really. If she’d be comfortable and you’re ok with it, I could teach her.”
“Will you give me some kind of deal?” she asked.
“There’s no better deal than free,” I said.
And it’s not just the money, of course. It’s the convenience of the fact I’m right upstairs, they don’t have to drive for an hour through a blizzard to get to the lesson and then back home again – one less thing for mom who already has enough on her mind to worry about.
And so this morning after a break of thirty-five years or so, I will be offering a piano lesson to the seven year old daughter of my building manager. I used to do it for money, but now it’s about something else, something for more important than money.
Also this morning, when I went out for the morning coffee, the wonderful art work shown above was waiting for me outside my door. Obviously, you can’t put a price on such things . . .
Thanks for reading. I leave you with a charming film clip of Canada’s greatest and certainly most eccentric pianist, the late Glen Gould.
It’s hard to believe it’s been a full year since I made the epic decision to live my life with no car. Last November 1, my car lease was up and my insurance was due and my plates needed to be renewed and so I decided to try going without a car for a while. I didn’t know at that time if it would be possible, especially in a city like Calgary which is hardly a pedestrian’s paradise. It’s the heart of the oil and gas industry and the city has been designed, for want of a better word, for people to drive and to drive a long way, everyday.
Because of the rapid growth of the city, these vast amounts of space that need to be driven for most people to get to work and home again typically become so congested and backed up that there’s now a terrific amount of waiting and idling and burning gas involved in the commute as well. And yet it seems most people here never even consider the alternative.
A car, or worse, a pickup truck, is one of the many things people seem to think they are entitled to here in western Canada. I grew up east of here in Regina, Saskatchewan and like most of my friends had my license at 16 and have had a car pretty much continuously ever since – 40 years! – without ever really thinking about it. (Except when I lived in Toronto in the 1980’s.) Last year, I spent three weeks at the Stratford Festival where I had no car. I walked a lot. I felt better. I lost some weight. When I got back to Calgary all the circumstances were in place to see how it would be to do the same here.
At first it seemed odd. There’s a tremendous amount of convenience and a certain amount of status that comes from having a good set of wheels. And yet, when I got used to it, and started taking public transportation and accepting the occasional ride from friends, it found it surprisingly easy. By the time summer came around and I was able to ride my bike, I hardly thought of it anymore. I soon stopped defining myself from this deficit position – a person with no car – and started to look at those with cars as people who hadn’t yet seen the light.
And then, as I wrote a few weeks back, car2go magically appeared in Calgary, and suddenly, there’s always a car there for me if I feel I really need one. In this whole year, I have borrow a friend’s car twice, used car2go twice and taken three cabs, so by and large I’ve gotten by without a vehicle.
A few whimsical statistics . . . in getting to the C Train to go to places I work and tramping back and forth to my favourite coffee shops and shopping etc. etc. I figure I now walk on average about 10 km a day, meaning I walked the equivalent of Calgary to Montreal in the last year.
This isn’t exactly true though, as I also cycled almost 2,000 km (or from Calgary to Denver), and so on the days I cycled I probably didn’t walk quite so far. Still, you get the idea.
I have to admit, especially when you cycle, it’s hard not to get sanctimonious and even militant in your view towards drivers and their vehicles. But other than a few little scares, I have to admit that I found drivers in Calgary very respectful and courteous. (This is a rare view, I know. Other cyclists have horror stories, and maybe I was just lucky, but I have no complaints.)
After a while, your view of the city changes. You start to see the city as an endless series of parking lots joined by conduits of impatient drivers. You realize that the city was designed for the convenience of vehicles, with very little regard for human beings, let alone those of us who have no vehicles. And when you start feeling that, you start to see the whole place as a giant waste of space and time and resources.
Don’t take my word for it, try it. It will change the way you think of your city, wherever you live.
I’ve come away from the experience with a prayer: Lord, before I die, let me live in a city with no pickup trucks. Especially those driven by little shrimps trying to compensate for obvious deficiencies in certain parts of their anatomy.
Amen.
Thanks for reading!
A section of the bike path I took to work in August and September. Not bad!
Me and the girls. It’s always gratifying to see an action shot like this and realize that people were actually listening and paying attention!
It would probably come as a surprise to those not actually involved in the writing industry to know just how much time and energy we writers invest in teaching others how to do what we do. Teach may be too strong a word to describe this activity. Perhaps it’s only guiding. Allowing, even.
I’m guided in this activity by a motto that comes from the Hippocratic Oath: Do no harm. I know that I can’t always reach every person in the room. I also know that despite their desire and hard work, some just won’t have what it takes. Fair enough, they will find that out with time. But at least I hope that nowhere in this process will I damper anyone’s love of writing and literature, or harm in any way their sense of self-worth.
People who enroll in any kind of class do so with a hope and a prayer, it seems to me. And no matter what they might seem, they are no doubt vulnerable and even fragile and I try to honour that. They may not learn to write as a result of their time with me, but at least they won’t feel any worse about themselves.
Do no harm. It’s a modest goal, but an important one. Sometimes more than others.
Recently, I was invited to talk to a group of aboriginal girls who are part of the Stardale Women’s Group Foundation, being run in Calgary by the indefatigable Helen McPhaden. Stardale, which began in Saskatchewan in 1997, offers a wide variety of services and programs specifically for aboriginal women and girls.
I met with the girls in a small community centre in the west end of town early one evening. A light supper was provided for the girls (and their instructor for the evening) and after they had taken care of some business, they were introduced to the great author (moi) and our goal was to explore the writing process together in a reasonable manner.
As I say, my goal is to do no harm. I was aware that some of the girls in that room had been on very difficult journeys in their young lives. In fact, Helen told me that the underlying goal of the group is to restore, in some cases create in the first place, a sense of self-esteem.
Anyone who has ever sat in a classroom knows how easy it is to be wounded by a teacher. It can be deliberate or it can be accidental, but it happens. It has always struck me that some teachers, those we refer to as pedants, are in the habit of using their knowledge on a subject both as a weapon and as an extension of their huge but fragile egos. That is in fact the opposite philosophy of doing no harm.
I know that the idea of writing something doesn’t fill everyone with a feeling of radiant joy. In fact it scares the hell out of a lot of people. (Apparently public speaking is the greatest fear most people have.) And so I don’t ask much at these workshops. In fact, with these girls, I only ask for one word. I figure everyone has at least one word in them!
But that’s for starters. I had the girls write one word on a small recipe card and then I got them back and shuffled them and handed them out again so they could write a second word on a different card. Even a third or fourth or fifth if they felt up to it. And so in this manner we came up with the cards in the photo below.
“Love, hate, you only live and laugh once, hurt, happiness, I love you, I loooove you, joy.”
It’s just a beginning, of course. The cards can be added to, shared or taken over by one person. Two words together might be the basis for a poem, and from there it’s not too big a jump to open a notebook and start writing on one’s own.
The cards done by the girls at Stardale aren’t really a whole lot different from the cards generated by other students in other situations. Wherever we find ourselves, whatever hand we have been dealt in life, it seems to me we all hope for and fear pretty much the same things.
That these girls have grown to participate so well and so enthusiastically in workshops like the one I led and everything they do beyond this says a lot about their own courage and determination. It also says a lot about the volunteers and leaders of the Stardale Girls Program. It’s a very much needed and important program. It is changing the lives and expectations of these girls for the good.
While it may be depressing for some of us that Alberta’s leading cultural export right now is probably Nickelback, Alberta is known for many artists working in many fields around the world.
A number of years ago, my daughter Hanna and I were in New York where we saw a performance of Calgary’s Old Trout’s Famous Puppet Death Scenes at the Public Theatre. I wrote about that event in my column in the Calgary Herald and I know many people were surprised to learn about this production taking place in the Big Apple.
Back then, there were people in Calgary and perhaps throughout the province who thought we were still importing our art from exotic places like Toronto, New York and London. While there’s still a bit of that going on, it hasn’t really been that way for 20 years or so.
Alberta art of all kinds is of a high enough quality to export. But it doesn’t just happen. It takes a lot of hard work and some financial support and so I’d like to talk about an upcoming event that is near to my heart in many ways.
Every year, an organization called the Folk Alliance International puts on a conference for musicians and other individuals from all areas of music presentation to attend and participate in — and indeed to showcase their talents. Last year the event took place in Memphis, Tennessee and this year it is being held in Toronto.
My friend Stewart Chyz (a fellow Saskatchewan expat) has been involved with this event through the Bow Valley Music Club, a great organization that, among other things, brought in Jack Semple last season . (Jack is another Saskatchewan boy, but not an expat, he still lives there. He and I went to high school together in Regina back in the day. But that’s another story for another day.) BVMC puts on 10 concerts a year at the Strathcona Community Centre. Full details can be found on their website, www.bowvalleymusicclub.org.
The goal of the club is to help offset the costs incurred by Alberta musicians who wish to attend this event. Through their fundraising efforts, the club pays for at least a portion of the registration fees as well as providing presentation and showcase rooms for our musicians to perform in. The goal of course it to create awareness and even work for our artists outside of Alberta.
This idea of cultural exportation is important to our image in other parts of Canada and beyond; for providing a real sense of what is happening here for many people whose image of Alberta dates back to the 1920’s.
To help raise some funds for this event, Stewart has very generously (ie, out of his own pocket) produced a compilation CD called Toronto Bound, featuring songs by many of this year’s participants. These are no slouches on this disc – they are some of our finest musicians, including Ralph Boyd Johnson, Steve Pineo and Jenny Allen, to name but three.
Stewart isn’t looking to make his money back for himself, but he is looking to sell as many CD’s as he can to support this venture. One way to get them is through the BVMC website or through their Facebook page, but an even better way is to pick one up at the Ironwood on Sunday, October 21, from 2 – 6 PM, where there will be live entertainment, of course, including Pear, Steve Pineo, The Jenny Allen Trio and John Wort Hannam.
The Ironwood is located at 1229 9th Avenue S.E. in Inglewood. It’s 20 bucks to get in, another 20 for a CD. In this way you can help support Alberta musicians showcase their talents in Toronto early next year.
PS. If you want to pick up a copy of the disc and support this worthy cause, they are available for $20.00 at Heritage Poster and Music on the NW corner of 11th Ave. and 14th St. SW.
Thanks for reading. I leave with you a little snippet from the Trouts . . .
I took the photos in this post using the “paper camera” app on my iPhone. It’s a free app and has many cool settings. This one is called Comic Boom.
While I was on my regular Sunday morning excursion to my local Shoppers Drug Mart, I was reminded of an episode that occurred last summer, which I know will be of burning interest to readers of this blog.
Before I venture any further, let me elucidate a few things. First, when I say “my local Shoppers Drug Mart,” you can simply visualize your own local Shoppers Drug Mart, for as I found out in Stratford, Ontario last fall, they are all exactly the same. The shampoo is over here, the cheesies are over there. I find this both freaky and comforting at the same time.
And second, and more to the critical understanding of this post, it should be known that I possess an extraordinary number of Shoppers Drug Mart Optimum points. It’s quite an astronomical number, actually, putting me in the $85.00 free merchandise redemption neighbourhood.
I don’t like to brag about it (being a humble man), but I do believe this is a remarkable enough achievement that I include it on my resume.
One of the reasons – certainly the most important reason – for my trip to Shoppers this morning was to grow the Optimum fund.
As I say, I was reminded of a situation last summer. I was living, surviving more than living, really, in a most depressingly impecunious manner. The job had ended and the EI was moving about as quickly as a glacier. Adding to the merriment, my daughter Hanna had come back to Calgary for the summer.
She was not destined to stay, however, and before long had made arrangements to test the waters in New York City. Before she left, in need of toiletries and such sundry items as can be found in any Shoppers Drug Mart (on the same shelf in relation to the other shelves in any store anywhere in this fine land), she suggested that I give her my Optimum card so as not to strain my fractured finances any further.
I felt a pain in my chest, like a knife had been plunged into my heart.
“Use our Optimum points?” I asked, clutching my chest, slumping into a chair, chest heaving as I sought to get my breath.
“Why not?” she rejoindered.
“Oh no, oh no no no . . “ I opined.
“But dad, we’re broke!” she reasoned.
And so it was with tears in my eyes, I took my daughter’s hand in my own and looked deeply into her eyes so I could teach her one of life’s essential lessons. And I said, “It doesn’t matter, love. We’ll find the money somewhere. Even if it means I have to go out and find a job like a normal human being, we will find the money somewhere. Somehow. But we must, at all costs, preserve the sanctity of the Optimum fund. For once it’s gone, then it could truly be said we have nothing left but the skin that covers our bones and our nerves, and I truly will be up the proverbial creek of excrement with no paddle.”
We held each other and had a good cry, alone together against the enormous indifference of the cosmos. And I can’t remember what I had to do to come up with the money, but some was found, and Hanna was able to get her deodorant and a toothbrush and those other things that women are always getting, that men know nothing of.
And the points were preserved, dear reader. The Optimum fund remained intact, as it does to this day.
Safe. Growing. Flourishing, even.
And that was what I was thinking of when I went to Shoppers Drug Mart this morning to buy some invigorating shower gel, hair conditioner and a new 5 blade razor system with two replacement cartridges, thereby swelling the fund an additional 140 points.
It’s a wonderful life after all. Thanks for reading!
This particular Shoppers at the corner of 17th Avenue and 7th Street SW in Calgary was erected on the site of the old Mercury Lounge, which was my favourite bar, so visiting this location is always a bitter sweet experience.
Taken by my friend Michele shortly before the security guards swarmed down on her.
Bob Dylan and his band and Mark Knopfler and his band performed at the Saddledome in Calgary last night and here are a few thoughts on that event . . .
I have seen Bob Dylan 4 times now, going back 10 years when I saw him at the Saddledome in Calgary with my friend Bob White. That was a great show, as I recall, and what I remember most vividly all these years later is Dylan’s virtuosity on the guitar. He was flanked then as he still is now by Charlie Sexsmith who is as good as they come. It was a one-two punch that I will never forget.
Most recently, I saw Bob Dylan and his band in Lethbridge this August. I wrote a blog post about that show in August, which you can access in the archive section of my blog to the left of this post. Nothing about Dylan and his band’s performance last night changed anything I wrote about the Lethbridge show.
The thing that stands out the most is Dylan’s engaging personality as it comes through in his performances these days. 10 years ago, he may have seemed more remote and less personable. At the Lethbridge performance, I found him to be surprisingly engaging and fun. I wondered if that was in part due to a smaller venue, but that was not the case. He was all of that and more in Calgary last night.
The playlist and the way the songs got played was not really different than it was two months ago. If anything, as the band goes on with this never-ending tour, they are more tight than ever. I would think if you know anything about North American culture over the last 50 years or so, you would think it worth while and money well spent to see the man who gave us “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Blowin’ in the Wind” perform these iconic songs live and in person.
My friend Zenon took me to the concert in Lethbridge, and to last night’s concert as well. (He is a very good friend!) Even while we were in Lethbridge, we had heard that he had added Mark Knopfler to the card, and that Dylan and Knopfler would appear together in Calgary a few months hence, so Zenon decided we should see what that was all about.
At the time, and I suppose even going into last night’s concert, we weren’t sure how it worked, if MK would actually play with BD and his band, or if it would be a separate act.
Well, when you think of it, with Charlie Sexsmith as the lead guitarist in the BD band, where would MK fit in? He wouldn’t. So what we saw in Calgary and what you will see if you’re yet to catch them on this tour is an hour set by MK and his band followed by a slightly longer set by BD and his band.
I have seen MK before, when he came to Regina in the late 80’s with Dire Straights. It was one of the best concerts I have ever seen, and I was anxious to see MK in concert again.
He didn’t disappoint. (Except maybe for the British bloke near me who kept yelling out “Romeo and Juliet!” between songs.) With his amazingly versatile 8 piece band he laid out an hour of new and intricate and complex and decidedly Gaelic-sounding work. The virtuosity of all these musicians coupled with an amazing sense of ensemble playing made MK’s portion of the evening one of the greatest musical events I have witnessed in some time.
When it ended, and after the encore of the only song I recognized from MK’s earlier days, “So Far Away From Me,” I felt it was ending far too soon and I was left with that hollow feeling that the party was over and yet I still wanted more.
However, that feeling didn’t last too long. After all, the greatest poet of our generation was waiting in the wings . . .
These days I derive part of my income from teaching internationally educated health professionals – doctors, surgeons, dentists, nurses, and such – at a place in North East Calgary called Alberta Business and Educational Services. (I wrote about ABES, as we call it, and what I do there in a post called Work, Work, Work which you can find in the archives to the left, written in August, 2011.)
Invariably I have these medical types give a class presentation on alternative medicine, and inevitably one of my Chinese students will deliver a lecture on acupuncture. In fact this term we had three such presentations.
The best description of the whole concept came from my student Shu, who showed a map of the Calgary C Train system to illustrate that the flow of the C Trains is like our Chi, our energy, and the stations on the map are like the pressure points on our bodies. The same day, another student with the western name of David, who is a doctor from China, gave a presentation on the practice of cupping.
As I sat listening with my aching back to these presentations, it suddenly dawned on me that rather than sit there in discomfort for the rest of my days, perhaps I should check out acupuncture myself and see if it would offer me some relief.
And so on a lovely Saturday morning in the late autumn, my friend Gord gave me a ride to the outer reaches of North West Calgary and I found myself in the home and small clinic of a very “authentic” Chinese acupuncturist, Fangping, a friend of my student Shu.
I managed to communicate the nature of my complaint, which I suppose is probably nothing more than garden variety sciatica, and soon enough I was in the prone position with Fangping ready to treat me. (I am resisting the obvious corny metaphor of being turned into a human pin cushion.)
Before she started the acupuncture, she used the cupping technique, which David had told us about. This involved about six small glass cups about two inches in diameter applied to points along the back and on the upper buttocks. The cups are designed like suction cups, and a vacuum is created, cinching up the skin and everything underneath it. (In the old days, the vacuum was created by heating the cups, but Fangping thankfully had an updated version of this ancient device.)
Lying there with the muscles thus torqued, I felt a gentle pressure being exerted, causing a stretching in the area that seemed to relax the underlying muscles. The cups were left there for about ten or fifteen minutes and when they were released, the whole area felt more relaxed. It’s hard to explain just what it felt like, exactly. But it certainly felt different.
And then came the main event, the acupuncture itself. The needles were inserted along my lower spine, then out towards the hip in the upper buttock area, as well as a couple at specific points behind each knee. It was impossible to see what she’s doing but she seemed to manipulate the needles (jiggling them up and down) in a pattern at regular intervals. I went into some kind of deep trance while this was going on so it’s hard to say.
After half an hour or so, the needles were removed and I was good to go.
Because it was my first time, I may have been a bit apprehensive at certain times, but I can honestly say that nothing Fangping did caused me any pain whatsoever. All in all it was a very easy treatment to endure.
So the big question . . . did it work?
Yes. In fact, it did.
I did something to my back cycling about a month ago and have been in pretty consistent pain ever since. It’s usually manageable with a bit of rest and some Advil (amazing what one can get used to) but sometimes it can get very uncomfortable. And painful. Obviously it was bad. Why else would I have sought out help?
I got back home from my session and lay down for a bit, and when I got back up I didn’t feel any pain at all, not even a twinge. By the end of the evening, there was a bit of discomfort, but it still felt much better. I didn’t expect a problem that’s been present for decades to magically disappear after one session. Fangping suggested I come back for a few more treatments and I will.
There are other more esoteric applications of acupuncture that interest me, beyond a quick fix of a bad back. These have to do with the above mentioned flow of the chi through our bodies. Could repeated treatments make one feel more awake, more alive, more happy? Or cause one to see and hear better, sleep better, quit smoking, lose weight?
I see no reason to think that it wouldn’t help in any or all of these areas, and then some. As far as I’m concerned, you can’t argue with results. If you have ever thought of trying acupuncture for whatever ails you, I highly recommend it.
Since I mentioned on Facebook the other day that I had signed up with car2go, several people have asked me what I think of it and some have even suggested it would be a good subject for a blog post, so here you go.
A bit of background. I gave up my car on November 1 of last year. Over the winter I walked and took public transportation. This summer, I have put some 2,000 km on my bicycle. Only once during this time have I borrowed a friend’s car. I have taken a cab on only two occasions. I live in downtown Calgary so being at a central location is handy for all forms of transportation.
A month or so ago, the car2go people set up outside my favourite coffee shop. It is a company that has put, I believe, 250 Smart Cars (just like the one in my photo) on the streets of Calgary. Once you have registered with a credit card and valid driver’s license and you have been approved, you receive a swipe-card in the mail and you are good to go.
There is an app that allows you to see where the nearest car is – in fact it tells you how many metres it is from you and how much gas is in the tank. You are given the option to reserve the car for 15 minutes, allowing you time to reach it without someone else taking it. I found one just one street away from me this morning and set out on my maiden voyage. (Sans maiden, alas, but that’s another story.)
There’s a sensor located in the windshield. You swipe your card once approved, the doors magically open. Inside, you answer a few questions on the in-dash screen, such as, if the car is clean, and if there is any physical damage. My car was in fact pristine, inside and out. I took the key from its holder, put it in the ignition, fired ‘er up and I was on my way.
My trip today was to West Hills, which is a big box shopping area in the west end of Calgary. It’s not very well accessed by public transportation (although it soon will be when the new LRT line is completed) and it’s a tough bike ride, so this seemed like a reasonable destination. I was on the hunt for some winter footwear, which I have found before at The Shoe Company. Sure enough I was in luck today and I bought my Murrell winter mocs for about $40.00 less than I have seen them in stores downtown.
I believe that the car2go I used cost me about $10.00 for the trip – it is calculated at $.35 per minutes, with gas and parking in any Calgary Smart Park locations, including city parkades, included.
It took a little bit to get used to driving again, but I guess it’s like riding a bike, it soon comes back to you. I liked driving the Smart Car. It handles extremely well, as you would expect, and the visibility is the best I have ever seen, so to speak, in a vehicle. And let’s face it, there’s a certain freedom to be out cruising around on a sunny afternoon. All in all it was a wonderful experience, money well spent.
I ended my trip at Community Natural Foods on 10th Avenue, which is only a few blocks from my apartment. I could have kept the rental active, but of course one is aware of those 35 cents slipping by every minutes, and as it was a lovely autumn day, it was a nice day for a little walk after all.
I highly recommend car2go. I think it has the capacity to change the way many people view ownership of a car. When you factor in insurance, gas, parking and everything else, owning a vehicle is a very expensive venture. Car2go is extremely economical and convenient. All in all, for a person like me who knows how to get by without a car, but would still like to use one from time to time, it’s a wonderful idea.
eugene stickland 