Wiz Wit
So the innovator called me this week to usher in the golden end of my summer by kicking off the forthcoming autumnul equinox seeing Within Temptation in Philadelphia. But first and foremost, something bigger would be at hand. And that would be the kickoff of the Eagles 2007 football season at Lambeau field in Green Bay, WI. Well, the Eagles were flat, as was my beer that afternoon. The
birds responded back with 13 unanswered points only to lose it in the sad end of the game, 16-13. So much for my 27-24 prediction. Well, there is always next week against the skins. So I meet Ken to go to Olde City with Big Jim and Chaddington to see the Dutch Gothic Symphonic Metal band Within Temptation. I had first heard of these guys about 5 years ago and Ken was adamant that they were a must see. As you have noticed the last few years, the band has garnered a great reputation and truly started to grow on my audience. I guess it's mainly due to the male percentage of listeners that think Sharon Den Adel is absolutely stunning….which she is, mind you. But the music, the band, the energy with her at the forefront makes it a nice package. They sell out arenas across the old world yet shockingly, no one knew them here. But nonetheless, their new album The Heart Of Everything has been anything less than stellar. The buzz earlier in 2007 made a big impact on our weekly top 20. It held the top spot for 7 weeks and why not? It’s great. And the American release wasn’t even out yet! We arrived in the city to park in a lot that had car-sucking potholes. Not to mention that Jim’s gastric issues were well rounded this fine evening. It was then off to some bar on South Street that caters to just Europeans it seemed. I only say that because everyone in there had an accent. Anyway, we met up with Chad, who with a new child on the way, was celebrating the final days days before birth. He was in good spirits so it was time to go off to Jim’s Steaks. (Duh...i know, shocker) I had my usual, Cheese Whiz with fried onions. Ken went with his usual, Chad tried the Pizza Steak, and Jim, well, Jim just ate anything in front of him. We finished up and wondered South Street looking for records. Well, Ken was, but I was interested to see if anything good was out. We walked down near tattoo row off of 6th street. We then eventually made it to the Philadelphia Record Exchange. The basement was cool and damp while Chad and I fished through poorly cared for Asia vinyl, and talked about how awful the bootleg Yes vinyl was. I went back upstairs and looked for Ken and Jim. They were gone. Little did I know, there was a 3rd floor to this place. The heat was unbearable. But I think it had to do with so many GREAT jazz albums that were up there. I thumbed through some great ones. Return To Forever, Dry Jack, John McLaughlin, Herbie Hancock, and so many others. But 
the heat was unbearable. I then decided to leave for a smoke where Jim met with me outside. He bummed one from me, but hid from Ken. Which I thought was hilarious. Who hides from their boss to smoke? Anyway, we head back towards the TLA to find surveyors asking us to see a free movie and then comment on it. We couldn’t obviously, but this woman was relentless. We left her and headed back towards the theater to find out that band 2, (there were 2 scheduled to go on before Within Temptation) was still playing. So we walked some more. I chugged some more water, went into another shop, and within 25 minutes, we gave in and went to the TLA to see the end of the second opening act. Sigh, I hate cover bands. So, the stage crew tore it up, and made the stage ready for the Dutch icons. I would say there were about 350 people in the TLA at this point. The atmosphere was very gothic with a lot of youngins’ in the area. Then the band took to the stage. Sharon was more beautiful than I expected. But she did a lot of arm waving as if she was playing at the old Vet Stadium to thousands of people. But nonetheless, their sound was great. She looks great for being a new mommy. Just stop doing the arm thing and the hand dance. What was that? Chad didn’t get it, neither did I. I kept watching her hand. Maybe it's the way she feels it when she sings. Who knows? The sonics were good with a big video screen submerged in the backdrop with previous videos playing that were on MTV Europe…here’s how the setlist went amidst me watching my cell phone intermittently to get the Mets and Giants scores. Thankfully they were both losing:Solemn Hour
The Howling
Julian
Stand My Ground
The Cross
What Have You Done? (Some dude in the front row sang Caputo’s part right on the money while Sharon held the microphone to him!)
Forsaken
The Heart of Everything
Angels
Intro/See Who I am
Mother Earth
The Hand of Sorrow
Frozen
The Truth Beneath the Rose
Deceiver of Fools
Memories
Ice Queen/ Outro
When all was said and done, it was a great show that started to all sound the same by the end. The acoustics are awful at the TLA. The band was great. Don’t be fooled, Sharon clearly is the leader of the band with her aura alone. All in all, it was nice to see the band finally in the states. It was just weird to see that they were playing the TLA after seeing videos and DVD’s of them fronting so many arenas. We then departed the event amidst Jim’s nuclear gas that made me forget what day it was. We ventured to the innovators’ and had the pleasure of eating Caramel iced cup cakes. That was just the icing on the cake of an interesting weekend. Well, watching the Giant’s Eli go down with a separated shoulder made the icing even sweeter.
On Screen, Off Screen
I decided to finally get the Jeep’s recall done. The recall entailed the replacement of a Catalytic Converter and a new CPU replacement. This was ok, seeing that I needed no ride for Montreal. Agent Bradley would be driving thankfully. Not to mention, my left foot would look like a baseball glove if I had to drive all that distance. So I left the blueberry patch to head north early on Wednesday morning. The plan was simple, we’d make a stop to see some clients in New York, stay at a hotel, then cross the border. So, we hit exit 4 and headed north. While agent Bradley yapped endlessly on the BlueTooth each time it rang…which more or less meant the music had to stop every time, I watched the scenery. It fucked up Supper’s Ready, but what can you do? It took 2 hours to get through. But the scenery truly was beautiful. I had several false alarms for bathroom trips, surprisingly. Maybe I should move up north, I seem to get better and better the more north up 87 we went. One funny part of the trip as we approached the
Tapanzee Bridge was the multitude of signs preaching how important life was. I thought to myself, wow, maybe Tarrytown is like over the top religious or something. But then it hit me, the Tapanzee Bridge must attract (gulp) jumpers. Oh jeez. That’s awful. Maybe this is like their haven or something. You never really see much of that on the Ben or the Walt. Maybe after an Eagles game. But hey, at least on the Tap they give you a number to call to clear your mind of whatever is troubling you. That’s gotta impact the numbers, right? After stopping for 3 cups of coffee and a distributor who knew nothing, we stopped up at a client in Clinton Corners, NY. The scene was unforgettable. It was like driving through the New Jersey Pines only with treacherous hills and mountains. Deer were like......everywhere. One asked me what time it was. I think they even owned the gas station off the main road. We then arrived at our destination to meet Kenny and Amy. They were very nice people that live literally in the middle of nowhere in this heavily wooded area. Their house was fronted by a beautiful, mid sized crystal lake. Once we pulled up and I got out of the car, I would be approached and mauled by two beautiful girls. They wanted me badly. Unfortunately they were the typical yellow labs….smell….lick….then ‘ooh look, a rabbit!’ POOF! Gone. But it didn’t end there. Once I walked into their cozy house, the dogs ignored Rob, their owners, and decided to steadfastly focus on me. Trinity was the older female who had some saddle bags but was adorable. Then there was Dakota who obviously despite her large size, was still a pup. Ya know what I mean? Ya know….the big body, but can’t quite seem to understand her big legs and paws...or seem to grasp the concept of stopping in 
mid-run when tile floor comes into play. Within minutes….and close to tipping my beer on several occasions, the dogs fought for my attention at fever pitch to even the surprise of their owners. They acted as if no one was in the house but me. I loved it. We left the homestead and headed to Rhinebeck, NY to eat at a restaurant called Gigi Trattoria. I ordered the Caesar Salad with big anchovies and cheese and a flat pizza that was to feature ‘smoked’ mozzarella. Unfortunately, it didn’t taste like it was smoked at all. I packed the Pizza, and headed with Agent Bradley back to our hotel in Kingston. We followed the Phillies closely on the lap top as they returned the favor and thumped the Rockies 12-4, I ate junk food, watched a guy get kicked by a horse (on screen, off screen) and then….I……faded……..zzzzzzzzzHeathaze
We woke up Friday morning to head up the rest of north route 87. The day started out with dreaming of another Phillies sweep of the Mets. Screw them. Anyway, we pounded down some
muffins and 3 bags of free food, and headed to the hills. As we drove, and agent Bradley’s phone rang non stop, I popped in the Duke album from Genesis, one I hadn’t heard in a while. I forgot how this was so new to me back in 1987. The album was already 7 years old by then, but to me it seemed brand new. I started floating back a bit. Then all of the sudden I became deaf. As I chowed out on the left over pizza from Gigi, I started getting this tremendous pressure in my ears. It then dawned on me, (since my ears absolutely suck out loud) (what?) that we were hitting the Adirondack Mountains. Now, I hadn’t known much about them except for plugging shows in the area, way back when we started simulcasting on Aural Moon. Well, for one, the closer you get to the mountains, the cloudier it gets. Because we were in them! That I did not know. Oh, and the temperature drops! We stopped at a rest stop about 20 miles south of Plattsburgh, and met some cool stoner that gave us haphazard reinforcements on where we were going. (Rob and I were convinced he had bodies in his trunk.) When I got out of the car, I was freezing. I put a long sleeve shirt on, and a t-shirt over it (I know I’m a fashion guru.) as the winds were cold. But once we headed down hill again, I found myself starting to get misty. It was one of the most beautiful and surreal things I had ever seen. Beautiful rolling hills, woods, large Deer, lumber trucks with Quebec tags…signs starting to appear in French…it was captivating. It was right then I knew I was doing something very special. Maybe to some it didn’t seem like a big deal. To me, it was one of the echelons in my life. I loved every minute of it the closer we got. The leaves had already begun to change. The virus of the equinox began to move southward…and we were marching right in with reckless abandon. Then in perfect timing, a moment of clarity engulfed me and it all made sense as the song came on the stereo:Heathaze – Tony Banks
No cloud, a sleepy calm,
Sun baked earth that's cooled by gentle breeze,
And trees with rustling leaves,
Only endless days without a care,
Nothing must be done.
Silent as a day can be,
Far-off sounds of others on their chosen run
As they do all those things they feel give life some meaning,
Even if they're dull.
It's time to stop this dreaming, must rejoin the real world
As revealed by orange lights and a smoky atmosphere.
The trees and I are shaken by the same wind but whereas
The trees will lose their withered leaves,
And I just can't seem to let them loose.
And they can't refresh me those hot winds of the south.
Oh I feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place.
Now the light is fading fast,
Chances slip away, a time will come to pass
When there'll be none,
Then addicted to a perfumed poison,
Betrayed by its aftertaste,
Oh we shall lose the wonder and find nothing in return.
Many are the substitutes but they're powerless on their own.
Beware the fisherman who's casting out his line
Into a dried up river bed,
But don't try to tell him 'cos he won't believe you.
Throw some bread to the ducks instead, it's easier that way.
I feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place.
The trees and I are shaken by the same wind but whereas
The trees will lose their withered leaves,
And I just can't seem to let them loose.
And they can't refresh me those hot winds of the south.
I feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place.
It all made sense after that. Now I know why after all these years I appreciate that song. I always wondered when it would hit me. And that day, it did. It all made sense.
Midnight Express
As we approached the border of Canada, it didn’t look like anything I thought it would look like.
There were like farms and stuff. We then hit the border. I was nervous for several reasons, but first and foremost, I had no passport. Now keep in mind, when I called the US Government, they told me I had really nothing to worry about until 12/31/07 when I would need one regardless. So as we sat there at the border, the Canadian flag flew boldly. People were moving stuff in and around their car etc. I just sat and laughed at how easy it would be to just bring in anything you wanted to another country. The man at the toll booth that didn’t collect tolls asked us basic questions:Border Dude: How long are you going to be in Canada?
Agent Bradley: Till Sunday
Border Dude: Do you have any weapons, explosives, or illegal drugs?
Now wait a minute. Dude. Would I tell you?
Agent Bradley: No (me giggling)
Me: I have some Genesis bootlegs from 1977 OOOPH! (punched in the arm)
Border Dude: How long are you going to be in Canada?
Agent Bradley: Till Sunday
So after feeling like I was in the twilight zone, we crossed. Oh wow. We crossed.
My phone all the sudden decided to fuck me over and my whole world would change in a matter of minutes. Ok. I am slightly exaggerating. But seriously, once we crossed, everything changed. I mean every thing. My phone went on roam which meant like 10 bucks a call and you were lucky if you had a signal at some points. Then when you did call the operator or your voice mail, everything was once again in French. Sacre Bleu!
Bienvenue vers le Canada
Avez-vous jamais vu l'épisode Du sud de parc quand Cartman et la troupe vont voir ses cousins et grand-mère au Nébraska et toute la quand la croix la frontière dans l'état que le signe a indiqué, "bienvenue soudaine vers le Nébraska, désolé." ? Puits est qui comme ce qu'il était. Contraste total. Paysage, les gens, voitures, tout. 75 ont signifié 45, arrêt signifié par Arrett, e
t sortie signifiée par Sortie. Nous tous les deux nous sommes sentis comme nous étions en un autre monde littéralement. Chacun a expédié après nous comme nous étions des dopants car nous avons juste regardé fixement autour de nous. Tout était en français. Il plus ou moins signifié, "va te faire foutre l'Amérique". Pour nous avons marché et avons traité le changement, avons ainsi fait mon accent. Toute la soudain, chacun nommée est devenue ` Jonzey ', et nous avons fini tout avec un ` oui?' Mais je ne pense pas que je jamais ai ri tellement dur dans mon vie entière. Remerciez un dieu du GPS parce qu'une fois que nous entrions, nous étions clueless. Les vaches mooed en français. Les voitures ont corné en français aussi bien. Une fois que nous arrivions dans la ville de Dorval sur les périphéries de Montréal, les choses commençaient à devenir plus claires. See? There I go again. Like I was saying, did you ever see the South Park episode when Cartman and the gang are going to see his cousins and grandmother in Nebraska? All of the sudden when they cross the border into the state the sign said, “Welcome To Nebraska, Sorry.” Well that’s what it was like. Total contrast. Scenery, people, cars, everything. 75 meant 45, Arrett meant stop, and Sortie meant exit. We both felt like we were in another world literally. Everyone sped past us like we were dopes as we just gazed around us. Everything was in French. It more or less meant, “Fuck you America”. Well in my sick mind, anyway. So as we coasted and dealt with the change, so did my accent. All of the sudden, everyone’s name became ‘Jonzey’, and we ended everything with an ‘aye?’ But I don’t think I ever laughed so hard in my whole life. Thank god for the GPS because once we got in, we were clueless. The cows mooed in French. The cars honked in French as well.The Burger Stands Alone
Once we arrived into the town of Dorval on the outskirts of Montréal, things were starting to get clearer. These people aren’t that much different than us. There are typical physical features and
although most speak French, they easily spoke English. But that’s here in Dorval. The desk clerk at the hotel seemed to take more interest that we were Americans and were curious of our locations. They were genuinely nice; I mean hey, they have to be for 120 Dracma a night or whatever you have to use here to pay for things. The king of fence and I decided it was time to get some chow at Jack Astor’s up the street from my hotel. We walked in to a ‘TGIFridaysesque’ atmosphere, only mostly in French, I kind of felt at home. We sit down, and Rob had a headache from all the driving and really wanted to relax a bit before the Genesis show at Olympic Stadium. So he orders a chicken club type of sandwich and I decided I wanted a bloody burger with smoked cheese, bacon, and barbeque sauce. It looked good, it sounded good, and the spice fries are apparently legendary. Rob then tells me that the grade of beef in Canada is totally different. I was so hungry that even though I thought about his point and concern, I could have cared less if a massive tape worm decided to cocoon inside me and make a home within my intestines. So our waitress spoke in French to her new assistant that must have been in training or something. She walks up with our food and places the plates down and I was in love. I also had ordered a Molson which had like 7% alcohol. I was trashed after my tall glass. The burger’s arrival was perfect. First, the fries were amazing. The vinegar and the spice were just fucking phenomenal and were salted just right! I took a bite of the burger. It was nothing short of an orgasm. I took 2 more bites and watched people walk by me talking about things in French. Another guy was talking about the Montreal Allouettes. I wanted to keep eating but I had to go to the bathroom. I get up, and the bathroom was one big urinal sink. Ok fine, I pee while everyone has a big mirror in front of them. Hmm. So I come back to the table to find my plate is gone. Rob is just looking at me like, “she just……took it..” The look of disbelief shocked me. “You mean they just took my fucking burger??!?” He was stunned. The waitress walks back and I go, “Excuse me, do you know what happened to my burger?” “Oh, you wanted that?” she said surprised. “I took 2 bites of it. I just went to the bathroom. We have been sitting here 10 minutes.” She looked at me like, “Oh, Americans must eat the whole thing.” I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it. She took the burger off of our bill, but even at that, I was like, hungry. But we had no time. So we left for the famous Olympic Stadium. I was starving but, Genesis should keep me preoccupied.Olympic Nightmare
As we left the debauchery of Jack Astor’s, we headed into downtown Montreal for the Genesis concert to be held at Olympic Stadium. The stadium has a bizarre history. First of all, it has many names. First and foremost, Stade Olympique. But the ones I liked were, The Big O (the
main nickname for how it looks), then of course there’s The Big Owe for how many billions of dollars it costs to maintain, then my favorite is The Big Uh Oh and The Big Mistake for how many problems have plagued this place since it was built in 1976. Located in Montreal, it was going to be the main spot for the ‘76 Summer Olympics. That year it became home to the Montreal's professional baseball and Canadian football teams as well. It went from being this great stadium that was so state of the art to a white elephant that is more of hassle then an icon. They still have Montreal Alouettes games here (CFL) and Grey Cup games (CFL’s superbowl). A mainly forgotten fact about Olympic Stadium is that this is where the seed was planted for the Pink Floyd The Wall album. In 1977, Pink Floyd wrapped up their Animals tour at this venue. During the performance, Roger Waters started to sing "Pigs on the Wing 2", but was interrupted by an audience member setting off a firecracker near the stage. He stopped singing and shouted out, "Oh, for fuck's sake. Stop letting off fireworks and shouting and screaming. I'm trying to sing a song." The crowd cheered at this. He continued: "I mean I don't care. If you don't wanna hear it, you know... Fuck you! I'm sure there's a lot of people here who do want to hear it. So why don't you just be quiet... If you wanna let your fireworks off, go outside and let them off out there. And if you wanna shout and scream and holler go and do it out there but... I'm trying to sing a song that some people want to listen to. I want to listen to it!" He then continued with the song. The situation continued to deteriorate, however, and during "Pigs (Three Different Ones)", Waters watched incredulously as one fan climbed the netting that separated the audience from the band. Out of disgust, Waters spat in the fan's face. Near the end of the show, Pink Floyd guitarist and singer David Gilmour was reported to have walked off the stage in disgust, sitting out the final encore. Following the performance, Waters regretted his actions, and began to lament the separation between the audience and band. It was this which caused Waters to come up with the idea of the critically acclaimed album The Wall. The band would not play at the stadium again until 1988, after Waters' departure, on their A Momentary Lapse of Reason tour. On that occasion, the performance went smoothly. They subsequently returned to the venue on their 1994 The Division Bell tour. But other prog events happened here as well. A month after the Floyd incident, Emerson Lake and Palmer recorded and filmed a live performance at this venue with an orchestra which was released on the live album Works Live and the video Live at Olympic Stadium. Great concert as well. Genesis 
played as did many others. Many Canadians that I talked to look at the stadium as something that needs to be destroyed. But one thing that amazes me about the stadium is how amazingly big the complex was. Once we made our way near the stadium, we had to get into a tunnel to get there, then through all these loops that eventually led us into a parking spot RIGHT NEXT TO THE STADIUM. I was like…wait, we park right next to the stadium? Getting here was nightmare. People just stop on a dime in traffic there. It was amazing. No regard for gravity whatsoever. So we got out and headed towards the stadium and here’s what amazed me the most. We walked right into the stadium. No security check, no nothing. They just took our tickets and we walked into the arena. Our seats had us down on the floor about 14 rows back from the stage. There were no numbered rows. It was chalk on the ground lol. THAT’S how things were labeled. I laughed my ass off. So we get to our seats and it was so hot that Rob and I were drenched. Perfect Pneumonia atmosphere. The difference between seeing a concert in Philly and Montreal is this. In Philly you would be shot on sight if you lit a cigarette. In Montreal, it’s not really a big deal, I mean they don’t allow it, but people were smoking. And not just cigarettes mind you. But the French Canadians were happy with and without it to see Genesis for the first time in 15 years in Montreal. The set went like this amidst Phil talking French. That pissed me off.Behind The Lines / Duke’s End
Turn It On Again
No Son Of Mine
Land Of Confusion
In The Cage / The Cinema Show / Duke’s Travels
Afterglow
Hold On My Heart
Home By The Sea / Second Home By The Sea
Follow You Follow Me
Firth Of Fifth / I Know What I Like
Mama
Ripples
Throwing It All Away
Domino
Drum Duet
Los Endos
Tonight Tonight Tonight (intro)
Invisible Touch
And then the encores:
I Can’t Dance
The Carpet Crawlers
On a scale of 1-10, I gave the show an 8. They played well, they looked ok and in good form. The intro of Duke’s Travels was great and they seemed to be right on. But there was only thing wrong with it. Olympic Stadium is NOT where you see a concert. I learned that within 10 minutes. The echo was awful. It bounced everywhere. Granted, I am a rookie audiophile and all, but I could clearly hear that the band was having a hard time with sound deflection. Daryl kept holding his earpiece but as time went on, it got better. The stage had backdrop of a digital monitor system that acted as artistic design, lightshow, and at times, a BIG TV screen. I think what I enjoyed the most of the set had to be In The Cage. When they started doing that, everyone sat down. I was stunned. Am I the only person here that knows this? It was incredibly intense. Firth of Fifth was great too. But Follow You, Follow Me’s video backdrop was cool as it melded all the Genesis album cover characters together into a video-esque type thing. Domino was actually cool too because my mother called me to tell that Phillies beat the Mets 3-2. I was loving it. Then there was Los Endos which was preceded by an EXCELLENT drum solo between Phil and Chester. When all was said and done, the show was good, but by the time the encores came up, I needed water. I ran to the backdrop of the floor section to find there was no water only beer. Which is fine, but I was in a place where I truly needed to have water. I found a fountain and chugged away. I could hear Rob in my mind telling me that the water in Canada is not the same grade water that’s in America. I just drank away again. The concert was done, and then it was time to exit the show. The female voice after the band left the stage more or less said thanks for coming and check out their website. Wow. How times have changed. So leaving the inside of the arena was a joke. God forbid if there was a
terrorist attack. We finally got outside, watched our counterparts ‘try’ to leave the stadium in an orderly manner. Rob ripped signs off walls, while I watched Genesis shirts fly off the counter. I finally bought one of a guy out in the street for 15 pesos or whatever, and we left the stadium. The stadium has this huge slanted structure that goes out on an angle on the stadium which makes me still look in awe. Why isn’t this stadium still the shiz nizzle here? Sigh. I mentally photographed the stadium and made sure I would never forget it. I was here. I can say I saw Olympic Stadium. Driving home was a scary nightmare as well. Everyone drove like maniacs including my counterpart. I held onto the handle above my door for dear life. I kept thinking we were going to just plow into somebody. Even though we didn’t, but if we did, what accent would I use to talk to them?FMPM 2007
Once Saturday arrived, our Syrian/Iraqi hotel hostess Kathleen fed us with frozen Stouffer’s
meals and weird French titled drinks and made a night in a strange town more understandable. What I learned is that, the English Canadians don’t like the French Canadians because they are arrogant and refuse to speak English. The French don’t like the English because they feel they are the ‘real’ Canadians because they are French and badly want to secede from the rest of the province. Well at least that’s what she explained to us. I was expecting everyone to hate us because we were Americans, but not the case. They were rude to us until we SAID we’re Americans. Then it was among the consensus ‘whew, we thought you were Canadian’. We were treated well. But the hotel was creepy. I felt like I was in the first 5 minutes of Pink Floyd’s The Wall movie. It just seemed eerie. I was waiting for Danny from The Shining to come riding around the corner on his big wheel while Mr. Grady’s twin daughters would see me and ask if I wanted to play with them forever. Rob was ready to zonk out, while I watched snow or cheese on the TV. God I miss America. We woke up in the morning to realize my ATM card doesn’t work in Canada. For whatever friggin reason, I couldn’t take money out. But the Canadians LOVED American money. So I had a couple hundred on me, and it was dwindling fast. But the exchange was about even. We arrived at the new home for FMPM 2007. This festival was one I was close to visiting last year as seen here, but alas, it didn’t come to fruition. The plan ultimately is to do a broadcast from here for the show. The FMPM has had its first year at the beautiful Salle Pierre Mercure of the Centre Pierre Péladeau, in the heart of the Latin Quarter, on the campus of the University of Montreal. As the venue site stated, this area of Montreal renowned as the entertainment hub of the city, with its captivating lightlife, great restaurants, pubs, cafés, hotels and theatres. Boy, are they not lying. We arrived mid performace to see the band Jelly Fiche take to the stage. But before we went in, I saw one of my prog comrades in Sean McFee. Sean is the Original Irish Bastard that has lived everywhere in the last 10 years. You’ve heard me rave before that I think he is one of the most knowledgeable about progressive rock around the world. His radio show Progressive Shores which is kind of in hiatus off hiatus at times is still in my opinion along with Cozy’s Interzone some of the best prog radio I have heard. I mean, let me put it to you this way. I don’t listen to the radio except for AM sports and talk/news. But if I HAD to sit daily and listen to internet radio, it would clearly and hands down Sean and Cozy. I will hire them if I ever get my lucky break at the satellite level. Sean stood 
behind the Progquebec/Unicorn vendor table and was in good spirits. It was so nice to see a face that I knew amidst this foreign place…and thank god, it was a blessing. We talked for a while about some of the forthcoming releases from the Progquebec label and the differences between French and English Canada, we went in to watch Jelly Fiche. This was a very interesting performance that incorporated jazz, rock, poetry. The costumes made the show even more interesting. But the attention then turned to me when I pulled my camera out and took a photo. One of the ladies came over and scolded me in French that sounded something like, 'On ne permet pas des appareils-photo'. So I put the camera away and watched the end of the set. After it was done, Rob and I went to the bar and grabbed some lagers that we couldn’t pronounce and enjoyed talking to a bartender about the hottest sports topic in Montreal which seemed to be how Briere went to the Flyers and not to the Habs. But this guy was knowledgeable. He knew all about the Phillies, the Eagles, and the team they showed the most respect to for some reason, the Flyers. He was spewing out facts and stats and how they liked the Phillies to actually win the division! Whoa. Canadians know Philly sports. He later would tell us, that Montreal sports fans like ‘good’ teams that play hard. He went on to say that Montreal resembles Philadelphia in that sense. Cool! We then met up with Stephen Tackasy who is the founder and coordinator for the Montreal fest. Nice guy. Very intense and busy…but he stopped to chat with us about the event and what the future may hold. Stephen went out of his way for us which will make us never forget that. He will always have our support. We later met with some more vendors and chatted business talk, then saw one of our great contacts in Steff from Xpanse. She hooked us up with Sveti which we featured not too long ago and is one of the best of 
the fusion antennas on the left coast. We checked out some of the excellent, excellent, Miriodor and saw them do Famous Loops/Bugs which is one of my favorite tracks. We were starving though. So Rob and I decided to try and find Schwartz’s Deli located on 3895 Saint-Laurent Boulevard in old Montreal. Ken told me about this place as if my life would depend on eating there. Well guess what. After walking up hill for like 30 blocks, we finally found it. And there was a line that wrapped around the place back one block. I was crushed. The wait could be up to 2 hours we were told. Then there was a Portuguese rotisserie place I wanted to eat at which looked great, but Rob wasn’t up for it. When all was said and done, we wound up eating friggin American burgers and fries served up by some of the rudest people on earth. They were disgusting burgers with fries that had some kind of funky cheese on them. It made no sense. It was all lumpy and greasy with some kind of cinnamon sauce smothering them. It was nasty. We left to shop around for a bit on St. Laurent which started to remind me of South Street. We stopped in one head shop where everyone seemed to be really cool and LOVED Americans. We heard stories about how they hated New York (haha) and loved Philadelphia. It was back to PMFM to see Samla Mammas Manna and it was great. Hailing from Sweden, I have always been on the fence with these guys. Well they totally took me by surprise. The band is one of the founding members of the genre that always generated raised eyebrows in Rock in Opposition. They aren’t kids either. Samla started back in 1970, and their albums have been full of excitement and mystery combining great tightness, dissonance, great and complex compositions as well. We hung out to see them for a bit and before I knew it, I was once again looking to see where I could hook up a phone line for FMPM 2008. I was trying to get my hapless phone to work and lost my bearings, and everyone else for that matter. After looking for Rob and talking to some other friends, I met up with the great Guy Leblanc of Nathan Mahl who teased about the new forthcoming album called Exodus. It sounds tasty. I found myself wandering around Montreal and suddenly found myself at the Café Hookah Lounge on Saint Denis. We smoked some dazzling different tobaccos and talked to the locals who loved the fact once again, we were Americans. I also drank a few more 10% alcohol beers and got myself buzzed and very fuzzy. It was a fun night that led to me passing out and saying to myself, ‘viva le Montreal!’Muck The Fetts Part II
After a blurry morning, we decided to take care of other business at hand and head back home early. We said goodbye to Montreal and made an early and unexpected run for the border. But this time around it was totally different. The Canadian side had police, bomb and drug sniffing dogs, and a line that took us literally 45 minutes to get through. We had nothing to claim except
two tall cans of Molson “kick your ass’ beer, and funny labeled Marlboro Lights. Once we crossed the border we went for the best cuisine money could buy and headed for the golden arches. Unfortunately, I left Canada with a bunch of kooky coins and paper as did Rob, so I had to get some real money. Thank god the ATM worked. We chowed out on double cheeseburgers as I sighed and thought, whew, am I happy to be back home. I love America. I really do. Yeah I only went to Canada, but let me tell you, America kicks ass. You can hate the president, hate your neighbor, hate our policies but when it all comes down to it, it’s friggin awesome to be an American. We cut through the Adirondacks again down south 87, and realized the Phillies and Mets were playing. So we popped on the game to see that the Phillies were leading 4-1. But the Mets started hitting as well. But as we listened to the announcers, they started lambasting the Phillies for winning. Saying how awful our pitching staff was, our hitting wasn’t as great as the Mets, oh wait, 5-2 now Phillies. The further south we went, the more the Mets started threatening. Now tied at 5-5, I started thinking, well, this is the last game of the season series against them, and you’ve won like 8 in a row against the ‘other New York team that’s not the Yankees’ and maybe we’re due for a loss. Not the case. Bases loaded, and Dobbs smacks a grand slam, 10-5 Phillies. All was right in the world. Meanwhile, the announcers on WFAN started ripping the Phillies even more so practically coming close to saying that the Phillies don’t deserve win this game. I was laughing hysterically. I’ll take Philly announcers any day. From a broadcast standpoint and working in the field, they should be ashamed of themselves. I guess Paul LoDoucheuh will find a reason to say we shouldn’t celebrate ANOTHER sweep of the Mutts. Once we arrived into New Jersey, I was happy. Sirius football action dominated as we listened to a wild finish between the Vikings and the Lions. I watered the blueberries and zonked out.All You Know, And All You Feel
I woke up late on Monday morning to finally sit in front of my emails that had accumulated from the weekend I was away, and sadly, I started to see tons of text messages appear on my phone and my voice messages as well. Anchor had apparently called me Saturday night to tell me news but felt he would wait to tell me the ‘actual’ news once I called him back. But I didn’t need to. As I started going through my emails, it came through that the great host of the Sunday radio show The Sunday Drive and the new voice of the gagliarchives production spots, Kevin O’Hara had unexpectedly and shockingly passed away. Kevin O’Hara was a hard to find guy. He was dedicated, loyal, sweet, compassionate, funny, positive, forward thinking, and creative person. I was stunned. I broke down. Kevin had just finished doing production work for me, and still had some more pages to read for me. I was really stunned. I almost didn’t believe it. Then, sadly, Sgt. Joe Larocca, who was our security guard at the station for 7 years on Saturday nights, had passed away as well. It was too much to take in one shot. It made Montreal bitter sweet.
I was totally exhausted and saddened. My heart went out to Beth, Kevin’s wife, and their children. I wouldn’t know what to do if my father passed. He’s part of my foundation. I would be lost. Kevin, you were a hell of a guy. I will miss you. We had so much more to do. And Joe, I know we didn’t get along too great in the beginning…but we made up for it. I am sorry to see you go as well.The lackluster Monday and its energy would transcend onto the field of the Monday night opener against the Redskins. Even our Molson’s from Canada couldn’t lighten things up. The Eagles would lose an ugly one with everyone saying….huh? I walked to the car in disbelief that no matter how good things can go, they can also be so bad. I mean, I know it’s a football game, but life parallels it so much its disturbing. You can be up by 3 touchdowns, but lose it on penalties. Life finds a way of balancing it all out.
Adieu
The Genesis concert in Philadelphia capped off a bittersweet week. It was nice to have the family with me this time, and the set list was the same as it was in Montréal. The only difference was this time Phil had a cold and the sound was better. I was caught up in the moment during the end of the show realizing that this concert would probably mean the last time I would see them. Be it a trio, the full fledged band (never say never) or the four of them. (With Hackett only). I was a dumb young kid when I saw them in 1992 and 1987, but now, knowing what I know now about prog rock, the different levels of production of the top tier of those great bands, and all the other stuff that goes with it being a media person made me realize that I am still a loyalist. Yeah I was ripped up by my friends for seeing them this time. But all in all, it was what it was. I still was glad I saw them, and traveled to see them in another country. I used to hear those some older prog heads who saw Genesis in Toronto, Yes in Cleveland in '72, Gentle Giant at the Spectrum in '75 etc blah blah. Well, I was that guy now. “Genesis? Yeah, I saw them in Montreal at Olympic.” I know whoopdie do…I just felt when it was all over, “well, I guess that’s it.”
The trees and I are shaken by the same wind but whereas
The trees will lose their withered leaves,
I just can't seem to let them loose.
And they can't refresh me those hot winds of the south.
I feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place.
posted by GlobalProgressive Rock Network @ 9:14 PM
