Gratitude

It’s taken me longer than I’d hoped to get this one out, but I’ve really got to write about Adam Yauch.

In 1994 I was quickly solidifying a musical direction. While BMG had mailed me enough Alternative rock to push the pop I’d collected as a pre-teen towards the end of my shelf, there were a few important niches that had yet to be filled. I had yet to come around to punk rock and beyond DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince and a bit of Snoop Dogg, hip hop failed to resonate.

Being from a small northern town (where no bands ever toured), I was heavily reliant on the radio, Much Music and mix-tape trading with friends when it came to finding new music. I distinctly remember tuning into the Countdown in May of 1994 and seeing the video for Sabotage for the first time. I quickly became obsessed with the snare staccato and the punchy, yet totally fluid bass line and overall vibe of the Beasties. I also remember attending a dance at my Jr. High that night, requesting the song and the DJ having no clue what or who I was talking about.

That June, I landed my first decently-paying job cutting grass and picked up Ill Communication as soon as I could afford it. For two months, it was the only album I’d listened to (that and the Crow soundtrack) as I bagged grass, swatted at mosquitos and pushed the mower around our hood. Over the summer, I started becoming familiar with the albums’ deeper cuts and the Beasties ability to balance superb sampling with hardcore punk and NY-influenced instrumental grooves.

Check Your Head came from BMG later that fall and provided me with a snowboarding season’s worth of their earlier jams. So What ‘Cha Want, Gratitude, Funky Boss and Time For Livin’ making it on side B of a riding comp I played to death in a white Walkman I’d borrow/sneak from my sister.

The In Sound From Way Out, a collection of Beastie Boys instrumentals, came out in ’96. It was the first entirely instrumental album I’d ever heard and its lack of vocals instantly confused me. Of course, it didn’t take long for the album to grow on me and find its way into heavy rotation between the mountains of fast, melodic punk cds (quickly piling up as my friends made trips down south to A&B Sound).

Later that year, a joint effort between the Beastie Boys and Malarepa Fund (a non-profit spear-headed by Adam Yauch to promote awareness of Tibetan independence) organized the first Tibetan Freedom Concert. Initially attracted to the lineup of Alternative Nation all-stars, this series was also my introduction to the benefit show. I should say that I’ve played/organized so many of these in the last 16 years that I’ve lost count! Shortly after these shows it was announced that future Beastie Boys tours would all provide spaces for women to enjoy the show up front without having to worry about getting a stray meathead’s elbow to the face. Another way, I thought as a kid, Yauch put his money where his mouth was.

Hello Nasty came out in ’98 and admittedly, I paid less attention. By then I was on a steady diet of punk rock and the album’s heavy reliance on their more traditional hip hop elements were of less interest to me than say, Tim Armstrong raging through anything off Life Won’t Wait. But that’s not to say it wasn’t a grower as well. Intergalactic was a sweet summer jam but more importantly, it went on to win them an award at the VMA’s. I’ve got to say, if you want see an exceptional acceptance speech on international television in a post Gulf War world, check out the video below at 1:33.

In 1999 the Beasties publically apologized for the uninformed homophobia on Licensed to Ill, an album I never dove that deep into. Maybe it was their inner frat boy from ’86 I couldn’t get behind, but that statement definitely made me able to give the album a contextualized listen. As an 18 year old, I also dug the fact the fact a band so well established was actively maturing. Especially since that time was the beginning of fart-joke laced pop punk; dark ages that played an unfortunate role in the development of today’s man-boy culture.

I lost touch with the Beastie Boys for a while in the 2000′s, right through the 5 Bouroughs. I still don’t think I’ve listened to it once! But when they returned with another album of instrumental funk in the late 2007, once again I found them on increasingly higher rotation. I even rebought Ill Communication on vinyl to spin at our DJ night.

My last opportunity to see the Beastie Boys was later that year, in Washington at the Sasquatch Music Festival. I balked because I guess I thought they’d be around forever

Which brings me up to the news of his death at 47, and the emptiness I’ve felt in my stomach since it was announced. I never had the chance to thank Adam Yauch for the tunes and inspiration. Like any great music, it helped get me through rough times and increased my enjoyment of many good times. I always thought of him as the wise Beastie Boy, another man I looked up to as a directionless teenager, whose ethical and artistic influence on me was more than significant.

There’s Treasure Everywhere

Today I employed a phrase that I never thought I’d use. An old parentism, from the past. A couple of my kids have a big problem with keeping their fingers out of their noses. I’m not sure if I’m boring them to the point where they find better stimulation in rooting around up there, or perhaps they’re collecting samples for future science experiments. At any rate it’s gross and driving me nuts. I gave one of them gloves, which act as a pretty good deterrent, but the other one (who wonders why his nose is always bleeding) needs something that’ll make mining a little more difficult. Ewwwww! You could say I’m just “sick and tired” of it and now they know.

Yuck. I apologize for the beginning of this post but I just had to get it out there. When I sat down to start writing, I had a different beginning in mind, but that just popped in there.

What I want to write about today is an emotion that has been stirring about my brain for sometime. As you know, Stephen Harper celebrated his first year of leading a majority government the other day. During his reign as Prime Minister I feel that my identity as a Canadian has been slowly stripped away. Not that I consider myself any kind of patriot to begin with. Some would call me a horrible Canadian for refusing to participate in such rituals as chugging Molson products during hockey games, cheering at displays of militarism when fighter jets buzz whatever concert at the coliseum, or singing the anthem upon some social prodding. I’ve always believed those nationalist tendencies were horseshit anyways, considering instead to adopt a broader worldview. But this is not to say that I haven’t adopted parts of an identity known distinctly as Canadian.

The Canadian ideologies that impacted me the most, growing up in the 80′s and flirting with maturity in the 90′s, are ones I’ve tended to traditionally cling to when out and about. A peacekeeping nation, caring for our environment, being socially progressive when compared to our neighbours to the South. Like it or not, much of our identity has come from the sentiment that at least we’re not Americans. Put a maple leaf on your backpack when travelling and all that. But it seems to me that Stephen Harper, and Canadian politics, have become increasingly influenced by the US at home and on the world stage. Wait, perhaps influenced is the wrong word. Perhaps it’s more of a slow assimilation.

I’m growing more concerned about what the Harper government has as for a vision of our future. In an effort to balance the budget and save 5.2 Billion dollars in three years, the Conservative government is pink slipping thousands of civil servants. Being a former Biology student (and current enthusiast with B.Sc and Ed degrees majoring in Bio), alarms have been ringing daily as unsettling announcements roll in such as the closing of our most Northernly research institute. One, I might add, that gathers important atmospheric data relating to climate change (not that the Harper Government is one to acknowledge this impending barn burner).

This week has been the biggest bummer yet, as thousands of interpreters and researchers from Parks Canada are being laid off in the latest round of cuts. Not only is this a drag from a biologist’s standpoint (people informed about their environment are more likely to respect it), but it’s forcing Parks Canada to privatize such heritage icons as the Banff, Jasper and Radium hot springs. There is no re-nationalizing that kind of stuff. Once it’s gone it’s gone. Is a private company going to do a better job at watching a critical situation develop as the Banff Upper Hot Springs dry up? Will they really give a shit about rare species threatened by this? What does the Harper government care if they fill the pools up with heated water from now on anyways, as long as it promotes private competition?

I just noticed how many of my links are CBC based, cuts to which are also getting stuck in my craw. With the continual hacking away at the broadcaster’s budget, I grow increasingly concerned thinking about children growing up in a nation where all of the major sources of media and information dissemination are private companies. I cringe when I think about how long it would’ve taken me to catch on if it wasn’t for the Nature of Things.

It’s pretty obvious that the Harper Government is changing the Canadian image to be more in line with the Calgary School of thought, one of Economy Über Alles. The things I cherish(ed) about living and growing up in this nation is how certain things remained free of being reduced to $, or at least they were kept affordable. Richard Wilkinson recently pointed out that the growing income gap will likely lead to a nation of individualists. I think the more we watch our important social institutions be systematically dismantled (in favor of new fighter jets and $16 orange juice for lousy Ministers), the more desperate people will become. I’ve worked with desperate people and the idea of community, beauty, art and culture doesn’t mean a thing when you’re scraping by. I’d like to see this kind of anguish decrease, but I really don’t think it’s likely as long as our government continues to pander to it’s current ideologues.

Three more years of this?

On a fully related note; respect to the students of the Maple Spring in Montreal. I support them to the fullness.

Slow Divers

It’s been a while since I’ve posted and I’m fine with that, this blog is entering its sophomore years after all. There was a point in time where so many new and crazy things were happening that it was necessary for me to be constantly assessing my performance, with all of these new situations constantly coming my way. Now I’m looking to move away from anecdotal reports in my daily practice. Much of that has to do with the fact that if I was logging all of the craziness (and in some ways I’d still like to), it might actually bum me out. Don’t get me wrong, teaching is an incredibly reflective practice, but sometimes (especially when I’m working with particular types of groups that spend their time away from school doing god knows what), I’ve found it easier to leave thinking about it in my class.

I know this must seem incredibly vague, but I’ve also got to abide by professional agreements that keep me from making particular things public knowledge. This is a bit of a struggle. Half my brain wants share certain root causes of the bad behavior you see when you’re out and about. Maybe there’s a book in there somewhere, but I’m also looking for a continuing contract and in the age of the internet I’d never want to jeopardize that.

Oh blah blah blah, now that I’ve got that bit of non-information out there, let’s continue onto other, much more interesting things.

The snow is gone and I’m back to riding my bike to school! So exciting, a 20k round trip with a stop for vegan donuts on the way home!

Took my kids to see the Edmonton Symphony the other day. They were playing a selection of compositions that were reflective of different Canadian regions. In the 13 years I’ve lived here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them play. What a fantastic experience! Most enjoyable were the tunes they’d play with guest musicians; Cree elders in a drum circle, Inuit throat singers from Nunuvut and a class of young celtic dancers. My kids enjoyed it and really kept it together.

I don’t know if I’ve talked that much about my class. I really hit the ground running with this assignment. I’ve only ever taught elementary as a sub and to be thrown into a full time contract took quite an adjustment as far as lesson planning, grading, class preparation, behavior management…. everything was concerned. But lately, just within the last couple weeks, it actually feels like I’ve got a hold of things. My lesson pacing has improved dramatically, I’ve got a much better understanding of where the kids sit developmentally (and intellectually). I’m even getting a good read on them if they’re really struggling. What I mean is that if anyone’s acting out more than usual, I’ve gotten pretty good at being able to get them to express what’s really going on in their lives to cause them to cry, fight, argue or whatever. This has been so key working with behavior kids. Trying to teach them anything if they’re dealing with something super shitty outside of school is next to impossible unless you can coax it out of them. Once they verbalize whatever’s getting their goat, they’re usually good to go. This is probably common knowledge to anyone who’s ever raised a child, but not to a biologist.

As an aside, I’m rather impressed with myself. It probably sounds funny, but working with kids who have trouble dealing with their emotions has given me many tools to use in not only dealing with other adults, but my own brain. Progression!

I’ve got two months left and lots of curriculum to cover. Swimming lessons, a trip to the world of Science and an entomologist friend of mine from University coming into give my class a presentation on bugs. You know, when I started this thing I really had no idea how fun teaching could be.

It must be spring, the cat left me half a mouse this morning.

Hold My Life

Lately I’ve been getting some acupuncture done to help with an ongoing ear thing. Last night’s session was intense. My doctor ran a slight current through the needles in order to simulate a constant rotation. It didn’t affect my ear much, but my kidneys, liver, and guts are definitely in check, plus I had the deepest sleep and craziest dreams.

Class has been going well and as always, I’m learning a lot on the fly. A brief synopsis. I just finished up with my report cards and am half way through progress meetings with parents. I have no lessons from previous years to pull from so I’m either drawing from other teachers, planning the night before or putting things together 20 minutes before class.

Take the art project from last week, where we made stick figures out of pipe cleaners, gave them clay shoes and wrapped tinfoil around them. Who woulda thought they’d dig that one so much. I ended up with a silver surfer and a dragon on my desk that afternoon. I’m pretty sure the dragon was actually supposed to be a caped dog. E for effort.

Supervision at recess is much like Louis CK described it in his last special, very molecular. Binary systems clothes-lining other kids, singularities spazzing out and groups of particles attracted to certain objects be it a rock-hard ball, snowbank or something gross and decaying.

At lunch my kids get their cancon, as I search youtube for things they’d never be exposed to otherwise. The Logdriver’s Waltz, Cat Came Back and other must-see NFB shorts.

Math has been super slow going. My kids don’t exactly have the longest attention spans. The drag is that they usually get it by the end of class, but when they return the next day the slate’s been wiped clean.

I’m reading them Alice in Wonderland, from an original copy of the novel I picked up a few years back. We’re also learning about bears.

It’s only been three months, but I’ve already seen a wide variety of behaviors you just don’t get at the secondary level. From the whining to the nose picking, the pants peeing to the bloody noses.

Spring break next week. The plan is to relax, eat some vegan donuts from the new veg cafe in town and play some shows out west.

never ender

Today is my birthday. I don’t usually tell this to the folks at whichever school I’m working at because I inevidebly receive gifts that only add to the amount of unneccessary things I already have, or I’ll be presented with a thoughtful non-vegan cake. There’s no sense in giving something to someone you don’t really know, so I rather just avoid the topic completely. That said, one of the teachers was able to find out and had my kids surprise me a birthday song after recess, probably the sweetest thing she could do.

Ah my kids. My kids my kids. I’ve been there for about 6 weeks now and by the looks of it, I’ll be there until the end of the year. I’m definitely digging on the steady, predictable schedule and it’s been nice to get to know them and a few of their parents. I’ve been surprised by the fact that I’ve really been enjoying teaching elementary. It’s been an uphill battle, being that I don’t have much experience with lesson planning for that age, but over time there has been an increasing number of better days. Poignant that today was one of them.

It started with this half-baked idea I had for a trippy-looking art project that I thought might be cool to hang on the windows. I had nothing planned for class this afternoon-choosing to nap over lunch instead of getting something together-so I had to frantically come up with a way to keep my class occupied for the better part of 90 minutes. We’d worked with coloured tissue paper the previous week with both my EA (who I’ll call Liz) and myself agreeing the best part of the medium was an easy clean-up. So I figured with it still fresh in their minds, why not go for a round two. 

This was met with the average grousing of why-can’t-we-paints, and I-hate-tissue-paper, but I persisted, my brain thinking the pay off was going to be a nice relaxed art class. So it was the exact opposite of my anticipations. If the kids didn’t need help tearing the paper, they were busy getting glue on everything except the paper, pouting that their project didn’t look perfect and hitting me with a barrage of “is this good enough?”s. In fact, Liz and I spent the first 60 minutes ripping, gluing, cutting, talking down and giving time outs to a teary, overly-frustrated class until the magic happened.

Upon being asked for the 70th time why we were even doing the project and what the pictures were for, Liz responded almost sardonically, “they’re portals to another dimension”. Our students took this idea and enthusiastically ran with it. For the next 30 minutes all anyone could talk about was where their portals would take them. Some of them were connected to Disneyland. Others to Lego Land or to the ocean. Some dimensions would let them win the lottery, others would turn them into a character from Super Mario Land. We really got them going when we started telling them that they’d only work at 6:45. Next thing we know they’re all swearing to each other to show up tomorrow morning to check. After recess they were still stoked on the dimension thing. We were burned out but so I just tied it into a creative writing assignment. The day ended with everyone wanting more time to write or to print and take home their work. 

 

 

Still around, still kickin’. I’ve been offered a job for the next little while teaching grade 4 full-time so I’ve been working hard trying to wrap my head around it. It’s much different from any setting I’ve been in before, a small class of high needs kids. They’re really sweet though, and I arrived to find a bunch of cute valentines cards on my desk this morning. Had to take them on a Science field trip today. One of them forgot his meds and was doing the worm down the hallway by noon. Had to send him home. Another one used the word divergence in the right context which totally caught me off guard. Sometimes I don’t give them enough credit when it comes to their ability to absorb new things. Unless those things are a bit abstract, like subtraction seems to have been.

Anyways, winter eh? Mid-February. All I really feel like doing is listening to old Weezer records, sleeping and playing Zelda. Essentially reverting to my fourteen year old self. Can’t wait to get back on my bike this spring. The school’s a 45 minute ride away and there’s nothing better than riding over the river during sunrise.

What’s mine is yours

It’s been very cold. My New Years Resolutions included writing more and cutting out the hooch for a while . I also received a cajon over the holidays and I’ve been finding it useful when it comes to demoing new songs in my apartment. Here is one of them:

In elementary for the next couple of days and then it’s off to my favorite high school for some Science. I’m anticipating a productive week and I’ve even got an interview for a teaching position stuffed in there somewhere.

The little guys have been funny to be around. Last week one of them kept yelling “oh yeah, who’s the mac daddy?” at his computer screen whenever he’d be playing this one game in the lab. Another one was keen to let me know the condition of his feet as often as possible. At one point he felt it important to tell me that his feet were hot, but later they were itchy. “I think it’s the one with the warts on it”, he told me. “No wait, it’s the other one”.

Winter Torpor, Engage

I’ve been posted at an elementary school for the last week or so, in a grade 3/4 split class of behaviour kids. It’s been going well, after the initial couple days of them thinking that it was cool to goof around, I’ve finally got them in somewhat of a routine. I’ve never spent this long with an age group this young before, and it’s been pretty fun. Since their regular teacher has been down for the count since last week, I’ve been winging all of the lesson plans. Adjusting my instructional methods for their grade level has taken some time, but I think I’ve got it figured out. I know this because I’ve only had 2 criers in 5 days, (usually the affect I have on kids this old is such that I have at least one a day).

I know I haven’t been posting much. My excuse is that it’s cold out, and this has made me very lethargic. All I really feel like doing is changing into sweats, hiding under the Blanket of Shame and playing Super Mario World.

2112

It’s true, I’ve been listening to a little bit more Rush than usual lately. Anyways, inspired by the move Fugazi made last month (organizing and planning to release their entire archive of recorded live shows), I’ve been going through posters and itineraries in an attempt to try and list every show I’ve ever played. It’s interesting, for me anyways. I’ll keep plugging away at this thing for the next little while. I’ve come up with over 200 so far. Maybe I can dig up some old photos to go with certain tours, or some other audacious task.

Something to Write Home About

In Germany, actually throughout Europe (with the exception of the autobahn) there are photo radar boxes all over the highways. Interestingly, when you’re driving around with a GPS, none of them should come as a surprise as they all show up on your map as you approach them. It took us a few days to understand how this worked.

This fall, a few weeks after we arrived home, I received a letter in the mail postmarked in Germany. Originally, I’d thought it was dough for the band, as we’d signed these papers that are similar to SOCAN agreements after every show. (In Canada, you can actually get paid by SOCAN if you perform in certain venues). But they weren’t writing to give me money, they were writing to tell me I owed money. Or we owed money. Inside the envelope there was a picture of the bass-player at the wheel with an accompanying note claiming that we’d blasted by a photo-radar box, 22 kms too fast, in small town Germany. Anyways, I emailed central bureaucracy in Bleifeld, DE, told them that it wasn’t me in the photo and promptly forgot about it.

A month goes by and I receive another letter. My pretending that the ticket had ceased to exist added an extra 20 Euros in late fees to the original amount. I wasn’t about to pay the $250, but I didn’t want the ticket to show up on my passport the next time I tried to clear German customs. I sat down and wrote them an actual letter explaining that I wasn’t the driver on the notice and sent it to back central bureaucracy, Bleifeld. Then I forgot about it.

Last week, I received one more letter. This one much shorter than the others, and printed in bold. All of these letters were in German, and would take some time to translate. I was mad at this one, so I left it on the table. A few days later, roommate’s girlfriend came over with some news. Her Dad is German, and roommate had taken the letter over to be translated. Turns out the last letter was written to inform me that the ticket had been pardoned, but that my name was going up on the Wall of Shame at City Hall in Bleifeld, DE, for the whole town to see.

Heh heh heh.

 

Not tryin’ to cause a big sensation

Ah! My band kids have done it again! They played at the school’s talent show on Friday, rockin’ the gym with a cover of My Generation. For a band that’s been playing less than a year (and are still in Jr. High!), they’re making serious progress! I love watching these guys play, they get better and better every time I see them.

Sometimes I can’t help but think about how traditional education has partially limited my personal approach to the creative process. That A grade must mean that I’ve done something right, followed the right procedure, jumped through the right hoops which means my interpretation was bang-on. I played the perfect show because all the right notes were hit, flawless delivery, the drum fills were in exactly the right place. Applause and complements further solidifying that my take on things is truly new, or refreshing. But the other part of my brain argues that my idea of creativity is a mere casualty of what I’ve been brought up to admire, and their innovations severely lack a global influence. Appropriations, riding on coat-tails and co-opting the achievements of others.

This is how your head ends up when you’re lying in bed with the flu, on a diet of faux chicken soup and ginger tea. Too post modern for your own good.

Etsy profile update on the right. All books reprinted and available on that site or through me directly.

Also, after self-publishing 3 books, learning a bit about how to make ‘m look nice and getting them out there, I’ve decided to open the Pattern Press to manuscript submissions. If you’ve got a project you’d like to see available in print form, send me a draft to look at, I might help you put it out! Please keep in mind the stuff I’ve been releasing as well as the demographic.

I’ve also decided that I’ll open up the shop to binding projects. If you have something you’d like to see printed and hand-bound, I will do it for a small fee and send it back to you.

Inquiries for both should be sent to pattern (dot) press (at) gmail (dot) com.

Music section updated.

I’m also working on making the books available for downloading. If I can figure out how to make it work, you’ll be the first to know.

 

Let it come

The Canadian Government’s reluctance to take any kind of a stand on climate matters is really starting to bring my piss to a boil. As a Canadian child of the 80′s who grew up during a time when we were leaders of the environment – saving forests from being clear-cut, establishing the Montreal Protocol to deal with the problems CFC’s were causing (which even had the support of Ronald Reagan) and the promotion of the Three R’s – it’s absolutely infuriating to watch Canada with its head in the sand at the international climate talks in Durban.

I’m not quite sure what it’s going to take until the threat of human induced climate change is taken seriously. A massive drought that threatens our water and food supply? Weather patterns that physically disrupt our comfortable way of life? When an alarming number of biologists and climate specialists warn that we’re already starting to see some devastating impacts of carbon output, it doesn’t lead me to believe that the Harper Government is really looking out for my best interests.

Shame on you Peter Kent.

Minister@ec.gc.ca

Short interview on the new book here. After some contemplation, I’m thinking of opening up the Pattern Press to manuscript submissions. I’ll have some more information on that after the new book comes out this weekend.

Been working like a dog, mostly in elementary classes. The other day this 10 year old asked for a hug, then asked if I would be her step-dad. Does a kid that age even know the definition of awkward? It was also very cold last week which left me with with these snot-lines on my black pants about three feet up, a result of more hugs from the young ‘uns coming in from recess.

I spent the whole week binding books. The first two have finally been repressed and the new one, Keep on Chooglin’, will be released this coming weekend at the Royal Bison Arts and Crafts fair. I’ll probably have it at the show we’re playing Saturday as well. More details soon, till then you should check out the updated MUSIC section on this here blog. I found something Fractal related that I haven’t heard in ages!

The Pattern Press has reopened.

I’ve been finding work al over the place for the past couple of weeks. Last night I accepted a couple days in a room full of really high-needs, low-functioning kids. I wasn’t really sure what I was doing when I first got in there, but it turned out to be an interesting day. There was a lady working with one of the girls on her sight, and I learned a lot from listening to her. The child has a condition which does not allow her to see if any of her other senses are working hard and once they’ve diagnosed her ability, the idea is to work her vision up to 20/20. Of course developmentally she’s only at about 18 months, so the theory is that she’ll be able to learn better as her sight progresses.

It’s kind of heavy stuff. I don’t work with kids like these a lot, but they say that with the planned classroom inclusion it won’t be long until you have these little guys in regular classrooms. I’m not sure exactly how this would work, I’m assuming they’d always have an aid and it brings up questions of purpose. Would it be a more ideal setting, to have these kids in regular classes, or keep them all together and separated from the rest of the students in a school? It’s complicated, and challenging becoming comfortable in this situation as it’s loud and there’s a lot of drool, but I like it. Always a good test of patience and compassion.

Anyways, my group are pretty good natured and there was one boy in particular who worked very well having an adult male in the room (which is a rarity by the sounds of it). Like usual, the most difficult kid becomes my favorite and I spent a good chunk of time trying to get him to eat and keeping him occupied so he wouldn’t run into any of the kids in wheel chairs.