Spring 2002
Sunday June 16, 2002 : Recording
I woke up early today. Something I seem to be doing all the time now. I had a swim and lazed by the pool for the morning, alternating between splashing around and laying under the shade of an umbrella, listening to mix tapes.
This afternoon I set up the Zoom 4 track again and worked on two SNOWMELTER songs. I recorded two guitar tracks for “Cyndi On Sunday”, and also recorded beds for a new SNOWMELTER song. I lay down one snarly sustained guitar, two acoustic strummy guitars and one LDT Slow Attack guitar (the same PS02 effect patch as on “Purring”). I will mix them down to 2 tracks later and add vocals once I am satisfied with the lyrics.
Tonight I went up to Snowy’s and picked up her key. I helped her lug her bags down to the front desk and said good-bye until she comes back.
Saturday June 15 2002
I went to Geri’s yesterday and we watched “Almost Famous” on VCD. She hadn’t seen it, but it ranks as one of my favorite films. I hung out there until around 11:30 pm.
I spent this morning by the pool listening to the mix tapes Chris Chiasson sent me, and swimming. Because its “rainy season” the mornings tend to me amazing, with the clouds, and sometimes rain arriving in the afternoon.
Anand picked me up at around 12:00 pm and took me to this crowded mall were I searched for various must have’s for the ZOOM 4 track. Anand parked in the garage beneath the plaza. It was crowded with tightly packed cars. At one point Anand stopped his car, jumped out and pushed a parked car forward a length then jumped back in and parked. It was a weird thing to watch this sudden feat of strength come from Anand who’s been ill with Malaria lately.
Once we were parked we headed up in to the frenzy of the malll. I managed to find the various adaptors I needed pretty quickly, then went up the various floors looking for a 128 Mg Smart Media card. I found one for half the going price I’ve seen else where. This will allow me over 70 minutes recording time on the ZOOM 4 track. I got back to Evergreen at around 4:00 pm.
Tonight after another swim, I went up to Snowy’s to watch England play Denmark at the World Cup. It’s election day in Thailand so all the pubs are closed, and no alcohol is to be served anywhere, so that made going out to watch the game pointless. It was a shame actually as England beat Denmark 3—0. Afterwards we ordered in food, and watched “Littly Nicky” on HBO, then “Sex In The City”. Snowy is going away for a couple weeks, so I was introduced to her fish which I will have talk to and feed until she returns.
Sunday June 9, 2002 : 4 Tracks Are Better Than 3
If you aren’t a musician, it’s difficult to understand how much recording technology has changed in the last 50 years. “The Beatles” ground breaking album “Sgt. Pepper’s” was recorded using a couple of 4 track tape machines. This allowed them to record different instruments on different “tracks” and mix them accordingly, instead of recording everything at once.
The first time I encountered a recording device was in 1971. My friend Greg’s sister had a Panasonic cassette player... Back when cassettes were used for mono recordings and the hi-fi tape media of choice was the ever clunky 8-track player, OR the for the real hi-fidelity enthusiast, an open reel 1/4 inch tape machine... I can remember with absolute clarity the demonstration of this device. Pop in a cassette, press “Play” and “Record” at the same time and start talking. Then, when we were satisfied with our grade 2 ramblings we could listen back to it. This for me was the most amazing thing imaginable. It was like a time machine. So I lobbied my parents for quite some time until Dad bought one for himself, thinking I would lose interest in it... but since I always used his, he eventually relented and got me one of my own.
In the late 70’s Teac brought out a 4 track (able to record 4 separate tracks on one tape) cassette “Portastudio”. My brother Bruce and our cousin Brian were enthused by this, as it meant they could record songs at home, without paying expensive studio bills. I was too young to get involved in this process, but I remember what a break-through it was for them. I didn’t get to use one until 1982, when with my friends Steve & Dave Hillis, Clayton Hill and Hugh MacGregor, I recorded my first few songs.
In 1986 I finally bought my own Portastudio, a Tascam Porta One. Almost every Wisehammer song was either demo’d, or perfected on that machine, as well as endless hours of experiments, foolishness and fun. All the Ben Grossman beds for “Summer Fair” were also recorded on that box, as well as the beds & samples for “Queen Bee”.
Today I bought it’s replacement. I bit the bullet and got the ZOOM box. It is absolutely amazing. I remember in the mid-80’s my cousin Brian talking about how “someday” they’ll have a digital studio... How in the amazing futuristic world of tomorrow, we could pop our protein pellets, and record digitally on to a studio that would FIT IN YOUR HAND... This amazing machine would have built a built in rack of effects and would cost half of the price of a current cassette Portastudio... With digital recording the signal would be totally clear, with out any “tape noise” or hiss. “Bounced” tracks wouldn’t get muddy or lose any quality... It would be amazing.
Brian was right, and I have that machine now. I can record on it, sync it via MIDI to a computer or drumbox, I can upload my tracks onto a computer and import them to a program like “Cakewalk” or “Protools”.
I love technology.
Saturday June 8, 2002 : Shopping Day
I went for some Pho at Siam today, something I haven’t done in a long time. I poked around the CD store and stumbled across Grant Lee Phillips’ new solo CD “Mobilize” which I instantly snatched up. Then I wandered over to the Discovery Centre and went up to the music store...
I noticed they had some ZOOM products on sale, including a digital 4 track “porta-studio” style recorder the ZOOM MRS-4. I had sworn not to buy any more gear until I get back to Canada BUT... I also remember the words of my brother Bruce... “Never pass up a bargain... it will haunt you...” So... Now the debate begins. I took the spec sheet for it and I may go back tomorrow and pick it up.
Friday June 7, 2002 :England 1—Argentina 0
There are two things British that I have little interest in. One is the band “Oasis”, and the other is Soccer... er I mean FOOTBALL. So, when Geri asked me to come with her and a gang of friends to watch the England verses Argentina game outside the Siam Center on the Jumbotron, my initial reaction was “Naaaaa....”
As the day went on though I saw Snowy after she’d come back from MBK and bought a bunch of English flags (Saint George’s Cross, not the Union Jack) and was wearing all red and white... I thought... Hey, I rooted for the Brits back during the Falklands war, so why not go along and cheer them on. Besides in two years when they switch to the Euro as their currency Canada will still have the Queen on our money and they won’t. They’ll be German, or French or something then. Perhaps it is my duty as a member of the Commonwealth to stand beside them in this hour... Then I said to myself... “Do it for Superdry... Make him proud.”
So at EXACTLY 6:00 pm, I met up with Miles, Ali, Gary and Cecelia and walked over to the space between the Siam Center and the Discovery Center. There was already a crowd of Thai Football enthusiasts gathered and all the chairs were taken. No Matter, the Brits just moved up through the crowd until we found Monkey Boy and Jo his girlfriend. We were standing by these big electric fans that had some sort of water vapor contraptions hooked up to them, and they blew “cooling” water droplets on to us. The result was just like being back in jolly old England; we were wet and cold.
Gary was concerned that he wasn’t going to actually get to see the game since his glasses had completely misted over. At this point though he wasn’t really missing much, as the screen was off, and the only thing on stage was two “Pop Singers” who were dancing about madly and singing in Thai to some frightening techno pooh. The whole thing had that weird “Hello Kitty” wrongness to it, were the singers are dressed provocatively in little get-ups, but had these giant clown-like buttons on their outfits... Are they trollops or are they children’s entertainers? Its Asian! Who knows! But what every they were, we were very happy when they stopped.
Miles filled me in on the history of the rivalry between England and Argentina which obviously goes back to their fight back in 1982. This game marked their chance to “get 
back at the Argies” for some game that occurred during the 1998 World Cup where England got whooped. Or something like that. More of our contingent arrived including Geri, Snowy and a dozen Thai friends of theirs, all armed with tiny St. George’s flags. There were bottles of beer... er sorry LAGER... which up until this point had only been opened with the greatest of difficulty. Steve, Ali and Gary were glad that Snowy had arrived since she could open the bottles for sure. Not wanting to damage the 50 baht lighter she had, Snowy simply cracked open the bottles with her teeth. Miles used his newly unlocked mobile phone to guide his room-mate Neil to our spot. We assisted by screaming until he found his way to us.
At 6:30 pm the game began, and with it the chanting from our section. I of course have never heard any of these chants before, but they weren’t difficult to pick-up. The teams came on to the field and the Argentine team seemed to be led by Ali G, which made all the Brits sort of boo, although he actually plays professionally in the UK. When the English team came out our section went crazy, all the Thais nearby fearing the worst... What really scared me was the referee!
The game was actually fun to watch. I can’t abide watching the NFL or even the CFL. They just take too long to do anything. This was almost as fast as hockey. Miles looked like he was going to have a breakdown every time the Argies got into England’s zone or what ever its called. You know, past center ice. I was getting into the spirit of it all, and like a misguided anthropologist who gets caught up in cannibalism I decided to have some beer. Some beers. And it was good. Its been a long time, a year in fact. SO... When England scored... We went mad, and I waved my little English flag...
The game didn’t strike me as very long. Perhaps that is because its not boring like baseball or American football. Or perhaps because there’s not three periods. In the end of course Britannia ruled, and our section went crazy... Geri had this big English flag which was getting waved around by everyone, and Gary shook up a few bottles of beer and sprayed us all with them. The jumping around and cheering went on for a while, the Thais not connected to our group wasted no time fleeing us, as they assumed we would start breaking things with our heads, and setting the place on fire or something. Among all our shouting and cheering came the cry from one very drunk associate of Monkey Boy’s “I LOVE ENGLAND BECAAAAAUSE MY BOSS FROOOOM ENGLAND!!!”. There was a great deal of picture snapping, and some local photographer came over and took a shot of us. Hopefully that will end up in the Bangkok Post or somewhere good.
We headed over to the Hard Rock Cafe afterwards. That turned into a big party. I continued having beer, which shocked many, as some folk have never seen me drunk, or anything other than serious, and had certainly never seen me silly. Snowy made friends with some Argentine fellows, traded tops with one of them and sported a blue and white striped Argie shirt the rest of the night. There was dancing, and goofing about all round. Of course I took lots of photos... The Brookside girls had to show us that they were actually wearing Union Jack knickers... There was a point as well were I could no longer understand Gary, despite his many attempts to repeat himself. I think he was saying something to the effect of “I think she likes you” or “Go get her”... but that is just a guess. He may have actually been telling me something to do with computers.
Some of the Brookside Boys actually went to Japan and were at that game. We didn’t see them in the stands of course, but they must have had as much fun as we did. In any event it was an excellent evening, and I can’t wait to see the pictures.
Sunday June 2, 2002 : Bangers & Mash
Today seemed strangely split into three sections. I woke up quite early, probably due to my going to bed before 11:00 pm. I had a swim and lazed about, taking advantage of the sun, then I had some breakfast. The sky began to look sort of threatening, so I went back up to my place and worked on some letters, listened to music and eventually had a go at the barbarian hordes on my Playstation.
Snowy rang me at around 2:00 pm and we agreed to head over to the Bull’s Head for Sunday dinner at around 3:00 pm. That was a much needed meal. Snowy got the heart-attack inducing “Sunday Roast”, which looked to me to be enough food to last me a week. I went for the “Bangers and Mash”, which of course is the amazing Bull’s Head sausages (hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...) and REAL mash potatoes (a treat if you are in South East Asia!). After we had pigged out Snowy headed to a pub called “The Londoner” to watch the World Cup game between England and somebody else. I headed back to the Evergreen and promptly fell asleep until 8:00 pm.
Tonight I put together a package to send to Justin M, which contains (among a few other unimportant bits of trash I found laying around) 2 CD’s, featuring recordings from last summer. The ones I did with Eddie in Manila. It has come time for the world to be subjected to them as well. I think you might all be ready now.
Perhaps not.
Saturday June 1, 2002 : My New Pen
I woke up at 9:00 am, then realized that was not really necessary. I then slept until 3:00 pm. When I did finally emerge from the Evergreen at around 4:30 pm I took the Sky Train to Central Chit Lom and bought some much needed writing supplies. The first item on the list was a new notebook to journal in (all the stuff my detractors feel I am hiding from you folk... Oh how they would be disappointed!)
The best part of my new journal notebook is the bizarre titling on it. It says in GIANT LETTERS “QUIET NOTE”, then in smaller text “A DYNAMIC RANGE OF DESIGN FOR QUIET”. Which of course makes no sense. And is half the reason I bought two of the notebooks.
Pens! You can... or perhaps I can NEVER have enough pens. I bought a large quantity of black technical markers in sizes ranging from .03 to 8. This for me is as good as some folks obsession for shoes. Once I’d had my fix of stationery, I headed to The Siam Center and put a roll of film in to get processed. Then I had some much needed Pho Ga at the near-by Vietnamese restaurant. I then picked up my pictures and headed back to the Evergreen. I ran into both Burnsie and Cecelia who invited me out later, but I was just too tired. I stayed in, watched some TV and practiced guitar.
Friday May 31, 2002 : Misery Of Sound
Tonight was the official “Helen’s Last Night” dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant in the Regent Hotel. I headed down via the BTS with Cecelia and Ali at around 9:00 pm. Geri was the first one to arrive so she was sitting patiently waiting for us. Eventually we were joined by Miles, Steve (back from the UK) and his girlfriend Jo, Snowy, Brookside Roger (up from Koh Samui), and of course Helen, who is leaving for the land of Oz. There was also a Scotsman, but I couldn’t understand him when he told me his name.
The food was outstanding. I had a properly made pizza, the crust being thin and crunchy, and the sauce was just right. Topped off with nice cheese and fresh tomatoes it was one of the better pizzas I’ve had in Bangkok. Miles is not drinking these days due to a recent bout of tropical sickness, so we shared the experience sober and were both very enthused about the quality of desserts. The staff had brought a piece of cheesecake with a candle to our table after we had sung happy birthday to Roger as he entered the restaurant, in a bid to embarrass him. Miles and I ate most of the cake. Miles also had some outstanding mango sherbet and vanilla almond ice cream... (are you hungry yet?) After dinner it was into some taxis and off to a “London type” club called “Ministry Of Sound”. For me this was the least interesting part of the evening.
A big impressive club indeed, with more lasers than the Death Star, and enough strobe lights to cause frontal-lobe epilepsy. This is THE place to be seen on a weekend night, and everyone was there trying to be seen. The music however was awful. It was like being transported back in time to 1987 and dumped into The Diamond Club. Thumpa blam house music. Boring 120 Bpm recordings of someone bashing out 2 and 4 beats on an old Roland 909 drum box. Clearly the music of choice for drunken coke-heads to stager around to in any decade... snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick, snare, kick... Why the 909? At least tune the drum sounds down so they have some body. Oh well. I’m an 808 kick drum puritan to the grave.
Of course the DJ is projected on to a big screen via an overhead camera. It is an mystery to me how someone playing records of someone not even bothering to program their drum box can attain such status. Where’s my GR 300? No... these folk deserve more... Plug in the GR 500 and run it through the infamous Wayne Machine Murder Box... Drop the plastic chinatown Evelyn Loud beat box in a pot, stick in a mic... run it through a Big Muff pedal... then we’ll make them dance!!
Almost as much fun as slowly speeding up “The Macarena” at Christmas office party until its double speed and the drunken sales men and secretaries are nearly having heart-attacks trying to keep up to it... (Thanks DJ Dan for that little entertaining tip!).
The big surprise of the night was running into Toronto’s own Jason “Millions” as he walked through the upper part of the club where I was hiding. He was drunk enough that my sudden appearance (I last ran into him a year ago in Manila) took on a Biblical feel. I chatted with him for the last hour the club was open. At 2:00 am the lights came up and I went of in search of the Brookside North Crew. In the end we all went back to Burnsie’s apartment in Evergreen for more (and much better) music and talk. I managed to get back up to the 11th floor at around 4:30 am.
Thursday May 30, 2002 : Asian Spice
Last night I went out with Snowy to a restaurant I have been walking by for the last year. It’s called “Asian Spice” and is located next to “Fresh Milk.” Snowy is obviously a regular, as the staff all knew her. It was a good dinner, we had the usual Thai fare, and I had some excellent Pad Thai. We talked for ages, then headed back to Evergreen after a pit-stop at 7-11. I always grab some fruit from a vendor after I buy my supply of soda water and sunflower seeds.
Wednesday May 29, 2002 : I May Not Have Had Enough Of Me, But I’ve Had Enough Of You
You know what’s worse than watching some hockey haired loser projectile vomit in to an official Canadian Government waste paper basket? Opening up an email from someone I had mistakenly thought was a friend and reading the following...
“I thought about writing you a substantial letter... but then I realized there is (still) no way to get a mature conversation with you... so I droped the idea.
Hope you are as happy as you are trying to make us believe you are...
But I doubt it.
Good luck.”
One danger of having your life on-line, for all to read, is that some people feel this is an excuse for them to nit-pick every action, sit on their hobby-horse of piousness and cast judgment on everything you write, every photo you post and read their own psychosis into your journal. I had on two previous occasions considered writing this entry, and have also considered taking my journal off-line because of the judgmental remarks that seem to make their way back to me, either directly or indirectly.
The reason I keep an on-line journal is to let those friends of mine, both near and far, know what I was am to, give them a little view of my travels, and hopefully amuse them with some of the things I have seen. I am not trying to impress anyone, or convince anyone I am happy. I do make an effort to not focus on the negative, because I don’t think it is interesting to read and what do I really have to complain about anyways?
It is comforting to know that if someone like Maggie is asking Geri about how I am, that the reason she’s asking is that she’s CONCERNED about my well being. She cares! She’s seen me ill, and she saw me heartbroken after M and I split up. Sadly there are other humorless individuals who seem to have nothing better to do than sit in scorn and comment about me as if I am on some out of control go-cart ride to misery, destruction and hell-fire itself. Their tiny pea-brains will look at a photo of Small L and fixate on their imagined sexual aspects of our relationship. Knowing for certain like some mythical sooth-sayers that THE ONLY reason I was with her was because of “how she looked”. What they can’t see, because of the beam in their eyes, is how Small L sat by me, talked to me, put cold towels on my brow and held my hand while I burned with a terrible fever. How she let me like a blind man to the doctor, how she waited outside of the Emergency room at Makati Medical for me. She gave me a degree of compassion I have seldom seen in my life, and for that she will always remain dear to my heart.
The last few years have had some difficult lessons for me. The passing of my Mother in the autumn of 1999 is an experience I still wrestle with, and without the support and love of people like Sandy Moon, The Snowmelter Posse, M, Wendy, and countless others, I don’t know how I would have got through that period. There have been many other personal setbacks for me since then, and 2001 was perhaps the most difficult year of my life, physically, financially and personally. However, that being said, I know how incredibly blessed I am. I have such good friends both here and home, and the opportunities I have had to travel and explore have been amazing. How can I be “unhappy” even with all the losses I have suffered? After seeing the beggars in Cambodia, the street kids in Manila, the shanties, the death and the poverty, after watching those planes fly into the World Trade Center, I know how lucky I am. How rich I am. How wonderful, how sad, how bittersweet life is. Khea’s smile, riding with Rene in the red car, eating pizza with Geri, Songkran with Snowy... What a strange and wonderful life this is!
The last time I saw my father preach, his sermon was “When did everyone become so negative?” It baffled him. He was a man who’d grown up during the depression, gone through the terrible war years, seen many of his friends leave Canada never to return. He survived cancer, he survived a heart attack and he survived all the needless backstabbing of so-called “born again Christians”. He had no time for cutting people down behind their backs, and always weighed what he said to try not to “hinder” anyone. Above his desk in his study he had a hand written sign that said “Please be Patient, God is NOT finished with me yet”. That was his approach to everyone. I will probably never be a famous musician, or a great artist, or a wealthy land owner, or a hero, but I hope that through all of THIS, whatever this is, that I can approach being half of what he was as a person.
Two years ago, I would have taken a nasty email like that right to heart. I would have slipped into self doubt and ruminated on whether or not I was some awful person. Not after the last three years. The person who wrote that was not at my side as I watched my Mother’s casket lowered into the ground, nor were they there when I lay awake worrying about my sister’s health. They weren’t with me when my apartment was being torn apart by a typhoon. They didn’t sit with me and talk to me after I broke up with my girlfriend. They didn’t help me organize myself when the uncertainty of The Philippine’s political situation forced a relocation. They never drove me to the airport. They never lent me a few dollars. They didn’t travel with me. They didn’t “check on me” when I was sick. They never found me an apartment. They never found me a chiropractor.
The only thing they EVER gave me was endless opinions about what I should do, and continual reminders of what is wrong with me. I am better qualified to speak on my failings than anyone living. I have a mirror and I can see perhaps too clearly how I need to improve.
For all of you who remain in the hero category (which is most) I must apologize for the tenor of this whole entry. Let me end this with expressing my love and thanks for your being there during the good and bad times, and accepting me for who I am. Human.
Tuesday May 28, 2002 : Canadian Passport
I had to go over to the Canadian Embassy this morning to apply for a replacement passport. My current one is still valid for three years, but thanks to the amount of traveling I have done, and the giant size of some countries visa stamps, it’s 24 pages are almost full. I have be sort of dreading going through this process, mostly due my aversion to anything that involves the Canadian government and their forms... However perhaps dealing with the immigration and customs officials of places like the Philippines has been a great way (or only way...) to learn to appreciate how lucky we are in Canada.
Anand picked me up from Evergreen at around 8:15 am and we headed off to the Canadian Embassy. The traffic was brutal, but Anand is always able to find back routes to where you want to go, so we were there in good time. Once at the Embassy, which is located on the 15th floor of a large office building, Anand parked the car, and I headed up to the 15th floor. I passed through the post September 11, 2001 security check (guards, and metal detectors) and entered the slightly confusing passport office. I was told to “wait” and suddenly, like a coin operated robotic fortune tell at a carnival, the blinds were raised and the embassy staff was ready to help me. I was provide with several forms to fill out, all of which were surprisingly clear and simple to follow... Perhaps because they weren’t in Cambodian. I did my forms and handed them back to the fortune teller with all my identification, then I was given a laminated number five and told to “wait”.
It was at this point that this fellow that my friend Henry would call “a Surrey shit-rat” came stumbling through security. What ever metal he was carrying, perhaps the plate in his skull from a tragic Motley Crew concert mishap in 1984, set the claxons ringing and red lights flashing. The Thai guards didn’t attempt to stop him though, as he was HUGE... and looked even taller due to his amazing super-mullet. His John A. MacDonald/Hughie Lewis and the News hair-do said it all. His stained Vancouver Canucks sweat-shirt said the rest... TRAILER TRASH! Larry Lunch-box. Shit-rat. Stumbler. Stoner. One of those guys who tormented me and abused me to no end in places like Campbell River, Vancouver and Chilliwack. The type of moron who would have called me a “Toronto fag” and heaped scorn on my choice of Tom Waits over AC/DC.
He warbled over to the fortune teller window and began telling his life story to her. Apparently he’d “lost” his passport. He said it as if he’d lost his Mahogany Rush T-shirt... No... more like his history assignment. Then he continued to explain something about his Mom’s address, and he’s married (yikes) but his wife is Thai (poor woman) and on and on and on... The whole time I was sitting thinking “PLEASE GOD, LET ME GET CALLED IN BEFORE HE SITS BY ME...” After a great deal of rambling the Fortune Teller simply gave him the forms to get rid of him, and he plopped himself at the table across from me.
“ooooh... excuse me... this is in French...” he began to moan. The Fortune Teller looked at him with this expression of complete revulsion and said “FLIP IT OVER!”
Once he had figured that part of it out, he began filling it in and of course reading out loud both the instructions of each section and then his answer as he filled it in. I was looking in at the Passport official and silently praying “Hurry up! Hurry up!!!”
Too late.
Super Mullet suddenly stood up, turned around and ran over to the nearest waste paper basket into which he then projectile vomited. It was a scene Linda Blair in the “Exorcist” couldn’t have matched. Everyone in the room stopped and looked on in disbelief. I was the only one who commented.
“Oh, THAT’S nice.”
He then turned around without any sort of apology, waddled back to his chair and continued to fill out his forms while muttering to himself. Remember this is at 9:30 am...
Thankfully, I was called in almost immediately after this frightening display.
The next process was simply talking to the Passport Official who was courteous, polite and easy to deal with. For some inexplicable reason she asked if I was a police officer. I jumped at the opportunity to quote Dan Aykroyd from the “Blues Brothers“ Movie... “No Ma’am... I’m a musician...” (Perhaps she’d never seen a Canadian with a buzz-cut before!) I paid my 4800 Baht fee, then headed out to get my photos taken at a nearby photo-lab. The Thai Guards were chuckling away to themselves about Gurgles The Vomit Clown, who was still struggling with the forms and talking to himself or his imaginary friend.
Anand was highly amused by my story. He seemed to think the likes of Gurgles was common at most western Embassies in Bangkok, and the reason why everyone had been so nice to me was because I was probably the first sober white man they’d seen apart from the Canadian staff.
We went over to the photo-lab, and I had my shots done. The fellow who ran the shop had an arrangement with the Embassy. Once the photos were ready, they’d be picked up and delivered back, saving me the leg-work. The camera he used was some kind of giant contraption that looked like HG Wells’ idea of what cameras would like in 1000 years. I will be curious to see how awful I look, and if I could possibly look worse than I do in my current passport.
I pick up my new 48 page passport next week. I wonder if the King Of Shop Class will still be there, struggling, muttering and perhaps vomiting.
Thursday May 23, 2002 : ASK BUNS OF STEEL
DEAR CONFUSED DATER...
From my many years of observing the strange Human ritual of “dating” I have concluded than unlike Warfare, Irrigation, and the growing of plants that will intoxicate, Humans have yet to successfully perfect this practice. The reason you “do not understand it” is because Dating as we know it was invented in the collective memories of the earliest baby boomers, who in their sad nostalgia for their past have IMAGINED this fictional Malt Shop Grease Happy Days American Grafunkle process... This fiction was created to hide the awful truth about that dark ignorant period of history - the notion that their courtship contained some kind of romance, when it was actually a hormone driven ride over the cliff of ignorance into the abyss of unwanted pregnancy and the famous SHOT GUN WEDDING... Greasy pimply backed boys fumbling in some rusty jalopy (not the super hot rods they’d have us believe they drove...) with some terrified and confused girl who’s undergarment should have confused the boy long enough that they reach middle age... Too often this was not the case. I believe what they called “dating” is more correctly referred to now as “Date Rape”.
This fiction of “The Date” was later reinforced by the second wave of Boomers, who also idealized their self-centered youth, and based their whole generational identity on a war they never fought in and a rock show they never went to... Add to this the tons of illicit drugs they gobbled up like pop-rocks and its a recipe for contusion and high school gun rampages by their self-absorbed offspring.
On the question of dating, I would suggest the following simple rules, that IF I had followed more carefully I would not be reduced to dreaming about being marooned in a five star resort with the lead singer of “No Doubt” and or the Senator from Naboo (Not Jar Jar Chris! The one who was Queen before....)
1) Never Date anyone who reminds you of a Gummy Bear or Charles Manson
2) If they spit food on you when they speak run away
3) Never date some one pokes nails into air fresheners and drinks the contents
4) If the bulk of the conversation revolves around YOUR FLAWS ... beware!
4) Avoid men with Mullets or Hockey Hair
5) If they dance like they are in Westlife ... FLEE THEM
As we grow older we often find that only two groups of singles remain... Group A which consists of people who have no time for any bullshit and have set their expectations high enough that they are quite likely to remain single well into their 70’s... and Group B which consists of weirdos, mean spirited she-devils and people who spit food when they speak.
If this depresses you then I suggest you go to a Wedding Show, walk around and observe the pure misery and desperation of those cattle like beings on their way to “most perfect” day of their shopping oriented lives...
Remember that their is a bigger myth than dating... It’s the idea that unless you are “with some one” you have no real worth. This is, as a friend of mine would say, complete bullocks. If you can find some one who you can have a real relationship that is truly a great thing... BUT not finding one certainly beats the hell of out settling for some bogus relationship with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself or demands you give them all of your energy...
So...
If dating confuses you, or upsets you then consider yourself perceptive and follow your instincts. and AVOID IT.
I hope this helps.
ALSO
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MANY GEMINI’S WHO I HOLD DEAR TO MY HEART! BB, Saint Sandy, The Incredible Tiff, WENDLE WEN WEN Smallwood Bigheart, LL Bean... I think that’s all of them... If I missed you, send me a formal complaint and I will respond.
Wednesday May 22, 2002 : Return Of The Sun
I got to do some thing I haven’t had a chance to do since I came back to Bangkok... Lay in the sun. The reason for this is that it is now rainy season. However the last two days have been nice up until late afternoon.
Last night I went to an Italian restaurant called L’Opera with Geri, Snowy, Cecilia and Ali. In direct violation of the no drinking rule I had my first glass of red wine since December. My reasoning for this was simple. Why am I not allowed to have a glass of wine, but I am allowed if not encouraged to take drugs that make me sick, grumpy and who knows what else. Obviously I am not about to go on a Heir James style binge (I’ll save THAT for the next Kevin Quain show I go to...) but I think a glass of red will do less harm than some other things.
The food was AMAZING by the way.
And speaking of Evil Twins, my twin has apparently been spotted in Jakarta. I would encourage any one who does manage to see my twin to get a photo and send it to me. You never know where he’ll turn up.
Tuesday May 21, 2002 : A Thought
The only thing worse than missing someone who’s thousands of miles away, is missing someone who’s in the same city.
Monday May 20, 2002 : Pros & Cons
Which is worse?
Taking Mefloquine... Or NOT taking it?
Should I switch to Quinine Sulfate? Or should I just live with the headaches, fever, chills, aches etc... instead of living with the nausea, moodiness, and fatigue from the drugs...
Sunday May 19, 2002 : Package Of Tapes
On Friday Anand picked up Cecilia from Evergreen to take her to the airport. When he arrived he delivered to me another package from Canada. This bubble wrap envelope of joy contained 3 wonderful mix tapes from The Original Chris Chiasson (who’s nick-name in Wisehammer was “Paris” for some forgotten reason...) I had an opertunity to listen to one of the tapes over the last two days. It was excellent to say the least. Considering I have known and played music with Chris since 1987 it is no suprise that he knew EXACTLY what to put on it.
I met up with Snowy, Brookside James, Helen, Neal, Miles, The Mysterious J, Geri and some other fellow at the Bull’s Head for brunch. Afterwards a large contingent of us went to E.G.V. to see “Star Wars Episode 2”. I enjoyed it more the second time around although I must admit it occurred to me what is missing from these new Star Wars films. They aren’t really much fun. In the same way that “Star Trek TNG” had far too much pitter-patter and background information compared to simple chemistry between Kirk, Spock and McCoy, the new series lacks the chemistry of Luke, Han, Chewie, and the Princess...
And there is NO reason for this. Imagine if you will a plot where Obi Wan, Anakin, Sexy Senator, the Droids go off and do things TOGETHER... and perhaps Yoda and Shaft Jedi can come along as well... Lots of swash-buckling shoot em up... LIKE THE ORIGINAL. Instead of saving Yoda for the end, it would be great to see him in action through the whole movie. Oh well. Maybe in 3 years.
Friday May 17, 2002 : Send In The Clones
Today of course was the big day. Miles, his room mate Neil, and I went to see “Star Wars Episode 2 : Attack Of The Clones”. I am still confused by this title as the Clones never actually “attack”, and in fact sort of save the day. Still, the title aside, it was worth 300 Baht just to see Yoda jumping around with a light saber. Natalie Portman’s stomach is also worth the viewing. We enjoyed it, but I must admit that I sort of wished I could have seen it in a normal theatre full of screaming, laughing, booing, cheering fans. Sitting in a comfy recliner with 20 other folk is nice, but it some how didn’t seem right. One of my fondest memories of seeing “Return Of The Jedi” was someone shouting “Brush your teeth!” after the Emperor has made one of his speeches to Luke on the power of the dark side. The whole theater erupted into laughter.
The original Star Wars movie was the first movie I ever saw in an actual theater. I was of course raised with all these absurd religious restrictions, such not dancing, not playing cards, and of course NEVER going into a “movie house”. Every good Pentecostal knows that if the “rapture” occurs all the Christians sitting in the movie houses would be left behind, and would be forced to run from the Anti-Christ and endure the 7 years of “tribulation“... Even as a boy of 11 years old this whole notion seemed ridiculous to me, and no more logical than the Anthony Quinn character in “Lawrence Of Arabia” (which I WAS allowed to watch on TV) smashing a camera because it might “steal away his spirit”...
So when Star Wars came out in the summer of 1977 I launched a major campaign to convince my parents to allow me to go see it. I was certain that Jesus would wait to return until the movie was at least over. Seeing Star Wars was a my only concern that summer, because it looked at least as cool as “Star Trek” and the special effects were certainly cooler than “Space 1999”. In the end after probably a month of pestering my parents gave in. So my best friend and fellow Halifax Rifle Cadet Billy and I were off to see it on a Saturday afternoon. Even the bus ride across the city, the feel of it being summer still stand out clearly in my mind as one of the strongest pre-journal memories I have.
I had never been in a theater before, so I had the double shock of the size and scope of seeing a movie as it was intended to be watched, as well as two hours of the coolest stuff I had ever seen... Space ships, monsters, aliens, light sabers and Carrie Fisher (I was 13, what did I know?). There is no way ANY sequel can ever match that first viewing for me. How could they? When “Empire Strikes Back” came out I was 16, and had already moved on to having the shit scared out of me by the original “Alien” movie. When “Return Of The Jedi” came out I was re-reading “Lord Of The Rings” and “Blade Runner” ranked in my mind as the coolest sci-fi movie ever made. So the whole debate whether “Attack Of The Clones” is better or worse than this or that is sort of pointless. It was a Star Wars SEQUEL, and as I will never be 13 again (thank God)... No sequel will ever be Star Wars.
Thursday May 16, 2002 : Tickets
Miles and I went to E.G.V. and bought tickets for “Star Wars Episode 2” for Friday night. The line up for the Gold Class was... one guy in front of us... All the tickets for Thursday were sold out, so we took the 7:00 pm Friday showing. I have already seen the pirate DVD and VCD’s on the street, but I will wait.
Afterwards I introduced Miles to the joys of Vietnamese food, while he told me of his amazing trip through the Holy Land a few years ago.
Tonight I just played Dune 2000 on my Playstation... “the spice must flow... THAT is your mission...”
Tuesday May 14, 2002 : Spider Man Again
Today there was a big Biblical thunder storm. One of the Evergreen transformers was hit by lightening and after a huge explosion, the power went off for three hours, while the engineers scurried around like frenzied ants, trying to get it going. The loss of air conditioning for Farang is like a loss of oxygen for Apollo Astronauts.
This evening I went with Geri and Ali (from Burnsie’s Birthday crew) went to E.G.V. to see “Spider Man”. I enjoyed it just as much the second time. Geri seems to be the only Brit I know who is aware of the badly animated but truly classic 1970’s “Spider Man” Cartoon series. Apparently her Brother and his Evil Twin had it on video tape as kids, and it was handed down to her. She even knows the lyrics...
I enjoyed it as much the second time, however I will spare you a film review.
I won’t spare you reminiscing though. When I think of the “Spider Man” cartoon I always think of my Nephew Jon distracting my Father in church by pretending to “spin a web” at him while he preached. This amused my Father to no end, although I’m not sure how my sister felt about having a 6 year old pretend he was Spider Man in church.
Sunday May 12, 2002 : Spider Man
I went to see “Spider Man” tonight. It was playing at the E.G.V. Gold Cinema, so I spent the 300 Baht and sat in the comfy chair. The trailer for “Star Wars - Episode 2“ looked quite cool. I am still concerned about Obi Wan’s beard though.
There was a minor drama at during the Thai National Anthem, when everyone in the theatre is asked politely to “stand in respect for his Majesty the King...” The entire front row of designer label hippies from Europe sat unwilling to even budge from their seats... Until the Thai Ushers literally ran down to berated them and INSIST that they get up. The Euro’s had already wound the Ushers up by taking photos of each other in the theater. I guess no one explained to them that just because they were white enough to afford to go to the exclusive theater, they didn’t get the right to be disrespectful bastards. I’m sure though when they return to what ever Euro coffee shop that spawned them they will sit and talk smugly about how they had a spiritual experience in Thailand, blah blah blah...
“Spider Man” was great. I will see it again.
Saturday May 11, 2002 : Buying Stuff
I went shopping today at MBK... Now there’s something I haven’t done in a long time; BOUGHT SOME THING I DIDN’T REALLY NEED... but as rainy season is nearly upon us, there is one item I must have to keep me from going insane. A tiny Sony PSone mini-Playstation. Perhaps this was a knock off but it works fine and only put me back 4000 Baht. I had expected to pay about 6000 Baht... so I replaced my aging Walkman as well. I managed to find the exact same model as my old one which has been dropped once too often, and like myself is a bit wobbly. Now all the tapes people send me will sound GREAT.
My other Playstation of course is in storage and will probably remain there until I ship it back to Canada. So SOME ONE might end up with it when I come back, as I am sure I won’t need two of them (“pick me, pick me” they cry...)
I had my dinner at the 8th Floor Cafe, and was happy to see the lovely Joom once again. Afterwards I retired to my room and spent several hours shooting Nazis on my copy of “Medal Of Honor: Underground”. That Sten MK 2 is great.
Later I watched Star Wars Episode One in Thai. Baby Darth sounds much better in Thai, and even Jar Jar is mildly less annoying. I must admit the 8 year old inside me is completely thrilled that Episode 2 is opening next week. Especially when I can see it in the Gold Cinema and sit in a big reclining comfy chair. I am concerned about Obi Wan’s beard though. From what I have seen in the ads, he looks more like one of the Ozark Mountain Daredevils than a Jedi. You’d think if they could come up with light sabers, they could think of a fancy Jedi beard trimmer.
Friday May 10, 2002 : Happy Burns-Day
I was invited out tonight with some of the Brookside North contingent for Burnsie’s 25th Birthday bash. The event was held in the Rembrandt Hotel at a Mexican restaurant called “Senior Pico’s”. I was told everyone was meeting at 9:30 pm, and arrived at 9:45 pm to find... no one else had shown up. There was a table reserved though, so I took a spot there and waited... and waited. Miles, who is one of Cliff’s Londoner Pals was the next to show up. We talked and munched on nachos, waiting for the others. Monkey Boy Steve and his girlfriend were the next to arrive, then Cecilia and eventually the remaining crew.
Many drinks were ordered, but I was sadly restricted to soda water... blah. I will break this no drinking rule in style when I get back to Toronto. I am going to see Kevin Quain at the Cameron House and I am going to get lashed out of my skull and then eat a big greasy Vesta Diner burger...
Someday...
Anyways, most of the people there I had not met before, but had heard of second had. Some of which I never caught the names of. There was a three piece Latin band playing (loudly), and with the British accents it was difficult to follow what was being said. Especially with alcohol in the equation. One strange thing I’ve learned is that the folk from London will all greet you by saying “are you all right?”... This expression always put me on edge with the Brookside Boys in Koh Samui, as where I am from you would ONLY say that if the person looked ill, upset or to wind them up. For the Londoners though it is the same as saying “How’s it going, eh?”
By 11:00 it was a full house at our table, except that the Birthday Boy himself had failed to arrive... A large sombrero sat at his seat and Monkey Boy had several cans of silly string waiting as well. Finally Burnsie can marching in and did this strange “Birthday Dance“ before putting on the hat, and getting hosed down with silly string. The food arrived at this point as did more drinks. Burnsie did several more “Birthday Dances“ as later a small cake with a single candle was brought out for him. This prompted him to do another Birthday Dance while the bad played (yet again) “Happy Birthday To You”, singing the words in Spanish of course.
After Senior Pico’s the group was to head to a “London Style” club called “Ministry” (which always makes me think of that awful “Ministry” club that used to be down by Queen’s Quay in Toronto) but I was too tired to deal with the idea of going to a club. My shoulder is also not 100%... and it was being to really ache. Oddly when we came out of the Rembrandt who do I see standing across the road talking to some other taxi drivers but Anand, the most reliable driver in all of Bangkok. I said good night to everyone as they headed off to Ministry, then hopped in Anand’s car and headed back to Evergreen.
Tuesday May 7, 2002 : Back In Bangkok
It is very strange to be back living in Bangkok. Especially after being on that island for two and a half months. I never really went beyond walking distance on Koh Samui... The Deck was as far as I’d go usually, except for Songkran weekend, when we drove around in the Tonka, and took Snowy and Cecilia to the airport. It may take a few weeks to adjust to this. Having a proper bath-tub is wonderful though, as is being able to take the BTS to get to where I want to go. I still find that I want to fall asleep at 9:00 pm though... and to sleep with out Karaoke machines and drunk Thais warbling away next door! That is TRULY a wonderful change.
So here I am.
Sunday May 5, 2002 : Back To Bangkok
I woke up and found that my back/neck was still sore, but not to the degree it was yesterday. I spent the morning sorting out my things and packing my Bergen, guitar case and suit bag. I left the two mugs I had bought, and a few other items off with John and Alison. As for the books I had bought that I was finished with, I dropped them off at the Thai restaurant I go to. The owner resells used books to travelers for 150 baht. I just gave them to her. Hopefully some one will enjoy them.
I had a coffee with John and Alison once I was finished packing, then they had to head off so we said our goodbyes. I had planned to walk over to the internet cafe, grab a taxi then come back to Smurf Village... but instead I just got took a chance my back was recovered enough, got geared up and walked over to with all my stuff. I walked out of Smurf Village, down through the coconut grove, through the shanty where the dogs always yap at me, over the little bridge that crosses the minging creek of sewage, past the Rock Pub and over to the internet cafe. A ten minute walk but I was glad to get there. I checked my email and then at 3:30 pm waved over a taxi and headed out.
The drive to the Airport took about 20 minutes and I must admit I was sad to leave. I got my ticket sorted, checked in my MEC bag and then waited out in “Terminal 1” which looks like it was built by the Professor, Gilligan and The Skipper... At 4:20 pm we headed to the plane and boarded, and at 5:00 pm we took off. I listened to Emmy Lou Harris “Red Dirt Girl” on my Walkman, (a tape which I ONLY seem to listen to while traveling) and watched Koh Samui slip away behind and under the haze. An uneventful flight except for the annoying flies which had stolen away on board. The plane was only a turbo-prop so it didn’t fly high enough for the pressure to kill the flies, so they buzzed and bothered all on board for the next hour and a half.
Once in Bangkok I waited by the belt and collected my MEC bag, then headed out looking for Anand. I ran into three of the Brookside Boys, Roger, James and Mark. They were heading back to Koh Samui. I said “goodbye for now”, and then found Anand waiting outside the domestic terminal smoking. We walked over to his car and off we went back to the Evergreen. Every time he picks me up he always says “I knew you would come back...” He also gave me a post card and 2 packages!! More mix tapes for the poolside!
I got to the Evergreen and checked in, then went to my room. I called Snowy and Geri and told them each I had arrived. Then I showered and unpacked my stuff. Once all that was sorted out I opened the packages!
The biggest package was from my brother Bruce in Alberta. It contained a few photos, and 4 mix tapes. No track listings were provided so I will have to just be surprised. One of the 3 tapes was a 45 minute cassette which had on one side my old band “The Applicators” from 1995/1996... That was truly weird to listen to, as I don’t think I’ve heard those songs since 1998. It made me really miss playing in a unit, opposed to just sitting strumming F chords. The other side had all these 4-track noodlings and for the first time in many years I actually MISSED playing my Chapman Stick, an instrument that my ice fishing pal Brock describes as “that prog-rock harp thing“. The 4-track stuff was recorded in 1994 when I was probably at my best playing The Stick (compared to folk like Fergus Marsh or The Original Chris Chiasson that best was pathetic) and it was at a time when I was jamming a lot with Ben Grossman. His middle eastern/Balkan influence is very evident. Cool to listen to... Still its a life so distant and removed that it is like finding a journal from a former life, that you only remember as you read.
Package 2 was a single cassette from Justin. I listened to it as I rode the BTS to visit Khea. Excellent stuff, as to be expected.
The postcard of Toronto’s Chinatown was from our secret agent girl in The Nether Netherlands... Agent Nicole. Thanks to one and all for these valuable and uplifting items.
For those who are sending me packages a reminder to mark the value of the items as “0”... as in ZERO! Otherwise I might be charged a bogus “customs” charge... a 20 dollar package might cost 4000 baht. If it is marked as “0” they can’t charge me anything.
Saturday May 4, 2002 : Neck Out
In October of 1993 (as some of you will clearly remember...) I was severely injured during an Aikido class. I was a lowly green belt at the time, and the injury was from a technique called a “hitting elbow throw”. The arm of the attacker (me, in this case) is hyper-extended, then the attacker’s elbow is hit with the arm of the defender as he moves forward. If you have ever hit your funny bone, you will have an idea of how this actually works. In my unfortunate case the Black belt did the technique a bit too correctly, and although he didn’t break my arm or pop my elbow as you would on the street, he hit it hard enough that I was stunned by it and instead of rolling out of the throw I simply came down on my left shoulder... I tore my rotator-cuff, fractured my collar bone, and crushed all the tissue on my right shoulder. When Sensei saw the injury two weeks later (he had been away teaching in Germany) is only word were “Holy Shit”... Not an expression typical of a Japanese martial arts instructor. “Two years! Two years to heal...” He continued, “and you will have many problems later.” It did in fact take two years to “heal”, although the first six months were the most difficult. Every now and then I will have some pain... BUT NOTHING like what I have gone through in the last 24 hours.
I am not sure exactly what I did. I had gone to the Central gym last night, but was fine afterwards... So perhaps I slept on it wrong. I am not sure, but I woke with a bad neck this morning, and by noon I could barely walk because of it. Not since the original injury have I been in so much pain. As for carrying a back pack, suit bag, and guitar and flying to Bangkok... NOPE. Not today thank you.
John came to the rescue when he saw me walking back in to Smurf Village like an 80 year old man. I told him my neck and back were out of sorts and he took me off to a Thai massage on the back of his scooter. He thankfully drove quite slow. Once in the Thai Massage the massage lady had to get one of the other women to help me take off my t-shirt, as I couldn’t do it myself. They worked on the neck, shoulder and back for an hour, at the end of which I was much better. The next thing on the agenda was changing my ticket to Sunday. Then it was back to Smurf Village to sleep for several hours.
I went out at around 8:00 pm and had a bite to eat then stopped at another massage place on the way back. The head massage lady, a woman in her 50’s but strong like a wrestler worked on my neck and shoulder for two hours...
Now it is time for sleep, and tomorrow... Hopefully I will be able to deal with the airport.
Friday May 3, 2002 : Leaving
The arrangements have been made, and now it is time for me to say farewell to Koh Samui. I will be flying out tomorrow afternoon, and once Anand gets me from the airport, taking up residence once again at Evergreen Apartments, my old home... STRANGE... in a way it feels as if I am going “home”... although it is not the home I dream about on an almost daily basis.
This being said... I feel a definite degree of sadness at leaving here. I will miss many things and many people, and one cat. I actually feel rather bad leaving Fleabag, as I can imagine it sitting outside my Smurf Hut, waiting and waiting in vain for me to come tromping up, my blue MEC back-pack over my shoulder... I wonder how long before Fleabag realizes I won’t be giving him any more milk.
I will miss the Central gym, and of course the beach... and all the folk in the different restaurants I go to, or the internet cafe I use. I will no doubt see the Brookside Boys in Bangkok when they come up that way...
Oh well. Moving again. My life story. At least I will soon be able to see Snowy and Geri...
And maybe even Khea...
Wednesday May 1, 2002 : Regatta In Samui (sounds like a POLICE album title...)
This week there is a big sailing regatta taking place in and around Samui. Central Samui had a big “Red Bull” (a type of “power drink” available in Asia, but deemed unhealthy or dangerous by North America) sponsored dinner thing last night. I ran in to Alison and John as I was coming back from the beach.
Today I went to the beach again and lazed about. The water was the best I’ve seen it since last summer. Nice and calm... nice and warm... There were two Royal Thai Navy patrol boats just off the shore, for security and rescue reasons no doubt. One was a small JFK PT109 size ship, the other slightly bigger with a 6 pounder on the bow, instead of just a 50. cal gun.
I swam quite a bit, this being perhaps my last week here. Afterwards I went to the gym, then went to get some food.
Sunday April 28, 2002 : Sun Returns
It cleared up today. I went to the Central beach for a little while but didn’t stay as long as I normally would. I headed back to Smurf Village, and hung out there. Roger stopped by with Lizzie and Rosie. I said good-bye to them, as they were about to head off to the airport.
I mostly sat outside on the porch, reading “Fellowship Of The Ring” (again), drinking tea, and eating sunflower seeds. It was sunny but there was a nice fresh cooling breeze... Flea-bag of course made himself at home at my feet. The flea spray I bought seems to be ineffective on him, but works great on ants (which infest the kitchen of my Smurf Hut) and I have switched from spraying him with it, to just spraying my socks and jeans. This seems to work.
I am not sure how much longer I
Friday April 19, 2002 : Moody
I slept really poorly last night. Partly due to the noise of the karaoke machines that surround Smurf Village, and partly due to the events of the fallen Mannequin incident being replayed over and over and over and over and over... in my head.
It was as usual really hot today. I got a lunch at The Hot Bread Shop, and watched CNN there. I thought of the line from Ed Wood’s classic movie “Plan 9 From Outer Space”.
“You people of earth are STUPID! STUPID!...”
No doubt.
Let’s all fight over some little patch of dirt, or whether or not we worship the same God, and even if we DO worship the same God... Lets fight anyways.
I went to Central Samui and tortured myself with the bike, weights and of course the ultimate torture MTV. I wear a Walkman but the vile images spew out from the TVs all the same and I am subjected to the worst prefabricated corporate pooh-rock nonsense that I’ve seen since the early 90’s. Its dreadful. The worst offenders are not the Boy Bands, or Girlie Girls... I reserve a special hate for the absolutely unoriginal and predictable “heavy” rock rap non-sense. I remember where I was in first heard “Pearl Jam”... so why do I want to listen to some band rip them off ten years later. And P.O.D.? Wasn’t “Rage Against The Machine” enough of this kind of stuff? Apparently not.
BORING!!!
I must also comment about Robbie Williams covering “Mr Bo Jangles”... OH PLEASE KILL ME NOW!! and he’s there on stage singing this AS IF HE ACTUALLY MET MR BO JANGLES. “His career up and died... up and died....”
Thank God for NO DOUBT. That Gwen... She makes me feel... funny.
I went to the pool and swam, then as the sun set fell half asleep listening to SNOWMELTER on my Walkman. I came out of a dream during “Mellotron” and got all emotional feeling during the end part with the lyrics “Walk me home...”
I headed in and as I was walking through the resort passed the little band stand near the lobby to find these 3 older fellows, who I presume were Pinoys, doing their sound check. They were dressed in these matching white slacks, and white loafers that would have made Jack Lord mad with desire... and three of the most unbelievable plaid shirts! There was something about the nature of this trio though, and when they began to play and sing I just stopped and watched. So much obvious joy in what they were doing. They were so happy to play and sing together that it was infectious. There rendition of the BEATLES classic “And I Love Her” was just tear-jerking. Two acoustic guitars and a stand up bass. Three part harmonies. Doing what all the marketing ploys and cliche’s fail to do... MAKE MUSIC.
Thursday April 18, 2002 : The Mannequin Incident
Today I had one of those days that can ONLY occur in a third world country. It ended well enough, but it certainly could have gone the other way just as easily.
I have a route which I walk nearly daily. It is a long a road, over a small bridge that crosses this creek that reeks of sewage and death up past the 7-11 and in to an area which I call to as The Monkey Market. The reason I call it this is because at the crossroads in the center of this market (across from “Porn Laundry”)is a strange statue of two upright walking Monkeys walking hand in had, one an adult one a child. They statue is sort of a greenish color and the Monkeys have white faces. It ranks among one of the weirdest things I have seen in Thailand, as I have no understanding of what or who it is supposed to represent. It looks like it should be in one of the Planet Of The Apes movies.
Just past the 7-11, heading towards the crossroads is a strip of little stalls with vendors in them. One stall has clothes and sitting out on the edge of the road beside where you walk and where you get run over is a male mannequin bust for modeling t-shirts. This bust looks sort of like me. Or it did. I must have brushed up against it as I passed and it toppled down from its flimsy resting place and cracked his goateed head on the pavement. The resulting display from the fat owner lady would have made you think that I had purposely run up to this thing and hit it with a crowbar. I picked it up, set it back on its teetering stand, said I was sorry and once I had gathered that the owner of the shop wanted some kind of compensation I turned and walked away.
I walked up to the Monkeys and turned towards home, only to be physically stopped by this enormous Thai fellow, with a huge gut and many bizarre tattoos (a native American Chief?). He grabbed me by the wrists, which I quickly disengaged, and then began shouting at me to “go back and talk to the police”, to which I told him I wasn’t going anywhere and he could go to hell. This stand off continued until the fat shop owner showed up and began demanding money or cops. I said “Bring on the cops”. Fortunately for me, at this point a Farang on a scooter showed up, who was obviously a local expat and began to intervene. Fat Lady wanted 5000 Baht for the cracked Mannequin, which might SEEM fair to those in the first world, but considering I know that Khea’s rent is only 2000 Baht a month, there is NO WAY that I was going to give anyone 5000 Baht. The Farang women commented to me that “She’s (meaning the fat shop owner) is always difficult to deal with!”
At this point Brookside James pulled up on his bike and started to also intervene as he seemed to know, and be on good terms with Mr. Indian Chief. The Farang Lady had worked the price down to 2000 Baht but the shop owner was still whining away beside me. It was at this point the cops arrived. They could clearly see that something was amiss, and being good Tourist conscious Thai Police Men, they were very reluctant to get involved. So they parked and walked towards us as SLOWLY as humanly possible. James fortunately had some large bills on him, so he lent me the 2000 Baht which I handed to the Farang Lady, who in turn gave it to the fat shop owner. She said to the Fat Lady, “There’s 2000, now he’s sorry...” Then she turned to me and said, “Okay, you’ve paid her get on the back of your friends bike and go now!” Not being accustomed to running from the Cops I hesitated, but she looked at me and said with a great deal of urgency “Go NOW!!”. The Coppers were right about with us, but this wasn’t Chilliwack, and they weren’t Henry and Bernie and I wasn’t with Charlie Watch, so I hopped on the back of Brookside James’ bike and sped off.
Tuesday April 16, 2002 : Snowy Leaves
Today was Snowy’s last one in Koh Samui for the time being. She says she will be back at the end of April. I hope she is. The Smurf House seems oddly empty now.
Tonight at dinner Cecilia, Snowy and I drove out to this Italian restaurant with Roger in the Tonka. It was in an area I haven’t been to before, and was right beside the water, over-looking the beach and this dock were several very unsea-worthy looking vessels were moored. Here we met up with the Brookside Boys, Mark, Little Joe, Chris and James for a last supper. The setting was excellent, although there were mixed reviews on the food, depending on what people ordered. My Tortellini was excellent however.
At around 7:30 pm I rode out with Roger as he took Cecilia and Snowy to the airport. We arrived with time to spare, and we saw them off. Roger gave me a lift back to Smurf Village then went off to join the others in a game of poker. I said hello to our new neighbors and then was greeted by Flea Bag. As I have noted, the house seems VERY EMPTY. It was really nice having some else here.
Monday April 15, 2002 : Tropical Hot Dog Sun
Snowy and I spent the whole day at the Central Samui beach. We headed over and found a good spot with an umbrella for shade, and settled in. The sand was SO HOT, that I sort of had to hop about while the Central Samui Staff put up the umbrella. We ordered some food, and then got lazy. One of the female staff walked by, saw Snowy, looked at me and gave me the “thumbs up“. Snowy looked at her, then the staff member said “He always alone, today he have nice friend...“ and walked off with a big grin. I had never really thought about that before.
Our food came and we ate, then we alternated between swimming, laziness, and buying drinks from Mr. Drink Vender in his floppy hat. Snowy went for a walk for a while, and then later went for a massage. I was transfixed by the fittest beach creature I have seen since 1981. Oh my. She was truly something.
“Professor... what’s another word for pirate treasure?”
NYC Aaron showed up and I talked to him for a while as Snowy was getting a massage. Later NYCA, Snowy and myself retired to the jacuzzi and were joined by Beach Goddess and her boyfriend. It turned out they were from California, which would explain why she was so... special. NYCA was very happy to have some Americans to talk to, as he noted later “its nice to talk to someone normal for a change... These British only talk about soccer. They don’t make any sense...”
Tonight Snowy and I just stayed in. We borrowed “Spy Game” on VCD from Roger and watched that. It was a very quiet evening.
Sunday April 14, 2002 : Chuck De Cap
Snowy got up later than me. I didn’t go out last night as I fell asleep. Snowy went out with the Brooksides and came in at around 4:00 am. I spent the morning wondering if it was safe to go out, playing Command & Conquer and puttering about. We have a new neighbor next to Roger’s house, a older British fellow and his partner. I spoke to him briefly. The stray Cat which I have named Fleabag (“The Oddball Couple” - who remembers THAT cartoon??) came around meowing and spreading its fleas. I feel sorry for it but...
Eventually around noon Snowy emerged from slumber, and we headed off for breakfast. I bought the Super-soaker just in case, but it was not needed. Songkran seems to have wound down here, although in Bangkok I know that the water fights continue for several days. We went to the deck, but sadly the breakfast wasn’t as good as normal, and the sausages were a complete disappointment. From there we walked back to Smurf Village, changed and headed to Central Samui for a swim. That was much needed and really nice. The jacuzzi was under repair, which was too bad, as I was aching from Saturday’s action.
Tonight we road out with Roger and picked up Lizzie and Rose, then went to a place called “The Secret Garden”, that features live music. As we didn’t have much room in the Tonka Lizzie and I stood in the back, held on to the roll bar and enjoyed the nice breeze and ride under the stars, moon and palm trees. We also had a great conversation, as she is a quality individual, well worthy of a job or a table at the “Grapefruit Moon”. When we reached “The Secret Garden” the band was playing and Brookside James was doing excellent vocals on “Mustang Sally“. We stayed there for a while, then headed to “The Green Mango” via a few other places. The power was off in the area around the “Mango” but we ran into NYCA and Barman Neil at on place that turned out to be owned by Ex-copper Phil who I knew from the Makati days. I chatted with him for a bit then wandered around with Roger, Snowy, Little Joe, Cecilia, Rose, Lizzie and NYCA. We went to the Mango, then headed off to the “Reggae Bar” where there wasn’t any Reggae played. By this point the ladies were quite drunk, and we drove back to the “Mango”, myself riding in the back with Snowy, Lizzie and Rose. Snowy and Rose were in quite good spirits, toasting the locals with a drink they’d forgotten to leave at the bar, with a loud “Chuck de cap” which is Thai for “cheers!”. They also slipped in to talking that strange dialect of English found only in the pubs of Northern England just before last call. I could not understand them. Once at the Mango Rose decided to dance behind some strange Italian guy (nothing by the way is stranger, than an Italian who’s an artist or non-conformist) who was doing this freaked out dance in the street. He promptly bent over backwards and fell on her, pinning her to the ground while he continued his freakazoid dance. Eventually we got him off her. Snowy and I rode back with Roger at around 2:30 am.
Saturday April 13, 2002 : Songkran
This afternoon I joined Snowy, Cecilia, Roger, Little Joe, and Mark in one of the Tonka Trucks for Songkran. We had several large pails of water in the back and about 10 different water guns, each in a different state of operation. The weapon of choice seemed to be these tube-like guns that worked on the most basic principal possible. You stuck the end into the water, pulled back the handle or grip on the back of it, sucked the water up, then pushed the handle forward to squirt the water out. There wasn’t enough functional versions of this gun to go around, so I used this continuous pressure pump Super-soaker than Snowy had brought down from Bangkok. Once we were all in the back, Mathew hopped in the drivers seat and off we went.
We came out of Smurf Village and were set upon immediately by the surrounding venders and their kids. But this was nothing compared to the water fights we encountered later. We drove North towards the Monkey Market, and stopped at the 7-11, where I bought a waterproof throw-away camera. From there we headed North on Cheweng road and that is where the real big water fights began. There were a lot of people on the sides of the road, in front of their stores or bars who would be just hosing down anyone who passed by. There were also a lot of jeeps, and pick ups or trucks who like ourselves had people in the back with water guns or buckets. The Thais would also have white powder or paste of some sort to smear on us, but all the Farang stuck to water. The whole afternoon was a continuous water fight as we crept along the road, exchanging water with locals and tourists, on the side walk or in other vehicles. At one point in front of a place called the Flintstones Bar we got stuck in traffic and completely hosed down. We were running out of water, my gun wasn’t functioning and we couldn’t really even see to fight back.
When we got past that point we came across some guys in a truck selling big bushel bags of ice. We bought two for 100 baht ahd reloaded our buckets with ICE WATER... This gave us a whole new edge. After you’ve been hosed down a few times its all the same... but to get hit with freezing cold water is truly a shock, especially to the Thais it would seem. We soon learned the Thai expression “Oi!!!” as they would look at us wide eyed in shock from the cold. The other Farang didn’t like it much better. We continued on, soaking and being soaked, laughing and having a great time until we were detoured onto some other road that I’ve never been on before. It was on this road we encountered the only real sour-ball of the day, this French guy on a motor bike who got all indignant and gave us the finger for soaking him. Anyone who doesn’t want to get wet on Songkran is advised to stay in. This includes the French. We were quite careful not to cause anyone to crash their bikes, but it was decided that if the French Finger Guy crashed, that it would be okay.
Running out of water and ice once again we made a pit stop by this restaurant and store. The owners and patrons let us borrow their hose to refill our buckets, but only after soaking us and smearing paste on us. The water from their hose was at best questionable in its color and smell, but it was free. I stepped in to the store and picked up quite a few bags of ice, and some six-packs of water for later. I also bought five new suction-action pump tubes for us to use, as all our guns were beginning to malfunction on us. These ridiculous tube guns had teddy bears on the handles, but turned out to be the best of any of the ones we had.
At this point we ran in to the second Brookside boys Tonka, this one containing Capt. Cliff, Burnsy and a few others that I didn’t know. We exchanged some good squirts with them and Roger brilliantly soaked Burnys with the new iced up water. Once we were ready to go, we headed off leaving behind one of our teddy-guns that a Thai had snatched out of the big bucket. We drove on and around continuing the battle, stopping at one gas station for another refill of water and ice, then we headed south and then east, then north eventually returning to Smurf Village at about 5:00 pm. I was ready for more... but that was the end of it for today.
Friday April 12, 2002 : Snowy Arrives
Snowy and her friend Cecilia came in tonight on the 9:00pm flight. I road out with Roger in his Tonka Toy like Suzuki jeep to pick them up. Snowy is staying with me, while Cecilia is staying at Roger’s next door. We were a bit late picking them up, but found them by the roadside, outside of the Koh Samui Airport on the road waiting for us. We loaded their bags in the back and headed back to Cheweng Beach and ultimately to Smurf Village. Once there Snowy gave me the mysterious packages that had arrived at Anand’s! Packages containing MIX TAPES!!!
Package One was actually a box from my friend Jennifer in Saskatchewan containing two mix tapes, a bag of Cadbury Easter Cream Eggs (mmmmm...), a book (The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad) and a tiny electronic Parker Brothers “Operation” game key chain.
THANK YOU BEADIEBABY!!!
Package Two was from the ever wonderful Toby The Magnificent, and contained two excellent mix tapes, as well as a letter and a photo of Toby the Magnificent herself, beating on some rather large drums when she was visiting Africa. That picture of course is now up with the others that line my mirror.
After Snowy and Cecilia had settled themselves and unpacked the many heavy bags they had brought for their 4 day visit I joined them and the Brookside Boys at an Italian Restaurant for a much needed dinner. We were also joined by three female friends of Roger’s and James’ of which only two I caught the names of; Lizzie, and Rose.
Once we had eaten everyone went to a club called “The Green Mango” which is like most clubs here open air, and located on a strip crowded with various clubs and bars. Songkran was in full swing, water fights and white paste smearing were in going on full blast. Some of the Brookside Boys were armed with Super-soakers, but most of the water fighting was a more of a matter of poring a bottle of water on who ever. Brookside James had this tiny little water gun that resembled an original series Star Trek Phaser that got a lot of laughs. How ever, as in many things, its not the size that counts, and he would demonstrated by squirting who ever might mock his gun in the eye with pin point accuracy. Across the street some people were hanging over the second floor of a bar hosing down anyone who dared to walk under them, whether they were on foot or on motorbike. I had brought my camera and in order to keep it dry I had worn my MEC rain coat. My camera remained dry but I did not. It was an excellent evening although somewhat strange as I didn’t drink, and all those around me were. At one point some back packer or tourist woman from the UK came up to me, threw her arms around me and began telling me that I looked Irish. I asked her if that meant I looked like a lepriacon or a potato. She continued to talk to me but as with all Brits when they are drinking I could not understand a single word she was saying. There was something about her Grandfather, then she kissed me and left.
I walked back to Smurf Village at around 2:30 am having had about enough for one day
Thursday April 11, 2002 : Package Delivery
Anand will be driving Snowy and her friend to the airport tomorrow, so he will be passing along my mystery packages to her, so she can bring them to me. It will be good to have some company here, as I haven’t found a volley-ball to talk to yet.
Songkran, the Thai New Years starts on Saturday, so I will be getting water and flour tossed on me for several days it would seem.
The weather feels weird tonight. Or something feels weird. It’s one of those Obi Wan type feelings that never gets explained. If you have any clues let me know.
Monday April 8, 2002 : Red Nose
I spent the weekend swimming and lazing about. The skin on my nose has all come off, leaving me a red Santa nose. I think it is better to have a red nose from the sun though, rather than the cold or from being a drunk.
Brandy has not returned. I think perhaps she’s gone for good. With her disappearance though Smurf village has suddenly become a cat refuge! Maybe it was them.
I lost the watch I bought in Hong Kong during Christmas 2000 at Central Samui much to my displeasure. I hope who ever found it is endlessly tormented by it beeping at 5:30 am every morning. That’s what you get for not taking it back to the lost and found!
No word from Snowy, not sure if she’s still coming down.
Friday April 5, 2002 : Packages?
No sign of Brandy... Although I could have sworn I heard her distinctive yip yap bark during the early hours... Perhaps it was a dream. And speaking of dreams... Yet another dream of returning to the Grape Fruit Moon. It was all different inside, and I was greeted by Sandy and April. This is what I get for going to bed at 7:30 pm...
I spoke to Anand in Bangkok and he informed me that “several packages” have arrived at his address for me... ONE containing Easter Eggs!!! I may have Snowy bring them down with her next weekend... But how do I stop her from eating the chocolates?? Currently the chocolates are safely stored in Anand’s fridge.
Ran into NYC Aaron at Central Samui today. We talked for a bit. I may meet up with him later, depending on how I feel. I haven’t been 100 percent for a week or so. The only cure is rest. I may have Anand give Snowy so Quainine (not sure if that is the right spelling) as well as the packages.
Thursday April 4, 2002 : Missing Dog
I got back to Smurf Village from Central Samui Resort at dusk last night. American Dave and his partner Ren pulled up behind me in American Dave’s jeep. Roger was sitting out on his pourch looking very sad. It turned out that Brandy the Swamp Dog has gone missing. The last time anyone had seen her was early this morning. It is not uncommon for dogs to get hit by the traffic speeding along the roadways here, and that was Roger’s main concern. Myself, I believe Brandy simply went off with some of the local wild dogs that have been hanging around Smurfside lately. She may have strayed beyond an area familiar to her with them, and simply can’t find her way back. So the searching begins. I feel bad for Roger, as I am very familiar with the awful feeling of losing a pet. I lost my dear little cat Chasey back in ’98 and it was an absolutely heartbreaking thing to have happen. There is hope however that Brandy will turn up. She certainly won’t starve to death on this island, and the Thais are extremly kind to animals.
