cottage rock

#1018: Surfing the October Colours (Cottage Video)

RECORD STORE TALES #1018:
Surfing the October Colours (Cottage Video)

 

The last cottage weekend before closing was totally maxed out!  And I don’t mean Max the Axe!

Life is too short.  It must be lived to the fullest.  When you and I first met here at mikeladano.com, I was 10 years younger.  Spending four hours on a Saturday pounding words into a keyboard was nothing back then.  Today I’d rather be experiencing life.  So that’s what we did.  From music to food to photography, we enjoyed our last weekend at the cottage before closing, to the max!

The music for the road was top notch.  Ghost’s new album Impera received another spin.  It’s as good as the day it was released.  Then while hanging out in the “G” folder, we rocked out George Lynch’s debut solo album, Sacred Grooves.  Better than any of the Lynch Mob albums.  It also enabled me to teach Jen a little bit about the mighty Glenn Hughes.  His struggles and triumphs.  On the road home, we rocked David Lee Roth’s Eat ‘Em and Smile and Your Filthy Little Mouth.  A pretty solid selection of guitar rock.

The fall colours were spectacular.  Orange, yellow, deep maroon.  As you are all well aware, I am not usually a “fall guy”.  This year has been a little different.  I have a friend in California who finds all this Canadian weather beautiful and fascinating.  For her, I enjoyed documenting the weekend with video tours and personal messages.  It totally made this fall weekend a different experience for me.  It was like seeing the place through new eyes.  And this is now going to be part of my wellness plan for winter.  She wants me to continue sending her fun videos and pictures of the Canadian landscape during the snowy months.  I checked my phone — do you know how many pictures of snow I had from past winters?  Two.  TWO.  I have photos on my phone going back to 2014, and I only have two with snow in them.  With her enthusiasm and encouragement, I’m going to have fun documenting the winter of 2022-2023!  I’ve never had this before — a friend in a sunny climate who has requested Canadian snow videos!  On the condition that I stay safe and don’t crash my car or break my neck!  This gives me a whole new project to do this winter, that I never had before.  I feel very positive about going into the cold, dark winter months.

I’m recovering well from my dental surgery and ate two steaks this weekend!  They were awesome!  As were all the fish and mushrooms I cooked up.  No A5 wagyu in stock at the butcher’s shop though.  That will have to wait until next year, I suppose.

We did something else different that we haven’t done in recent years.  We went into town!  I took some video of the big waves, a daring surfer, and some quaint streets.  Something new for this video.

Please enjoy this last cottage video before we close — all to the music of Tee Bone Erickson and Max the Axe!

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VIDEO: Max the Axe – “Randy” Remix – August 25-28 at the lake

I am pleased to present to you a work in progress by Max the Axe: a new remix of “Randy” by Robi Banerji. This remix veers wildly from the original album version of the song.

There are lots of dogs and cats in this video for you pet lovers.

You’ll notice we saw our UFO at the lake again on that August weekend. And weirder than ever. Explain this to me, people. See for yourself!

#1002: The Best of the Best of the Best

RECORD STORE TALES #1002: The Best of the Best of the Best

It has been unknown numbers of years since the last time I had a four-day summer vacation.  Long overdue! Full of great music, great visuals, and so hard to come back from. My heart aches, but I have been diligent and made a video of the memories, as I always do. The theme of this week’s video:  wildlife!  Lots and lots of animals. 18 minutes of video paradise: the best of the best weekend I ever had.

As usual, we departed the hot city on Thursday night, to the sounds of great rock and roll.  Heavy metal, in this case.  This time I chose Iron Maiden’s Seventh Son of a Seventh Son for the trip.  The entire album plus the B-sides bonus disc.  Musically genius, lyrically dicey.  I used to think the words were so deep.  “Seven deadly sins, seven ways to win, seven holy paths to hell and your trip begins…”  I used to imagine Bruce’s lyrics were so deep.  Now I think he was just making up cool sounding phrases.  We all know what the seven deadly sins are, but there are no “seven ways to win”, nor “seven holy paths to hell.”  I used to give him credit for knowing the exact meaning of everything he sang.  What are the seven ways to win?  Don’t ask Bruce, I don’t think he knows!  But it all sounded cool, and I must have spent childhood memorizing this whole album, because I sang the whole way to the lake.  I conclude the concept is fun, but without depth.  If there is any depth to the album, it comes on the last song, Steve’s “Only the Good Die Young”.

So I think I’ll leave you,
With your bishops and your guilt,
So until the next time,
Have a good sin.

That resonates, but the overall album is just a tale.  Just a comic book.  On the other hand, I could be like Liam Gallagher with Oasis lyrics.  “Just because I don’t know what they mean, doesn’t mean there’s no fookin’ meaning in them fookin’ words!”

80s Maiden continued on the porch all Thursday night. All 80s, all Bruce. Nothing but. Then we watched Thursday Night Record Club with Brent Jensen and Alex Huard, talking about Judas Priest’s British Steel.  Switched over to Priest on the front deck the following morning.  And then to Journey, for an upcoming episode of Tim’s Vinyl Confessions, on the excellent new Journey album Freedom.  I used my show notes to complete my upcoming review.  It will be ready shortly after the show debuts.  And you’re going to love the show we taped.  Trust me!

As the days meandered on, we encountered all sorts of wildlife. There was a cheeky chipmunk that was climbing all over us each day, looking for treats. There was a raccoon hanging around the back door, smelling the blueberry pancakes I just made. Birds, birds, and more birds. And Schnauzers! We saw the return of our UFO!  We kept our eyes on the skies, and there may have even been a flying squid!  (What?)

Indoors and outdoors, there was plenty to do.  No wonder four days flew past.  We did retro gaming, watched Ant Man, had a belated birthday party, and cooled off in Lake Huron. We observed the sun set, and then the moon a few hours later.  We have photos and video of it all.

By the time Monday rolled around, nobody wanted to go home.  I spent my final four hours on the front deck editing away.  It took that long to edit down 95 minutes of footage into the awesome 18 seen below.

Please enjoy the lengthy but entertaining video, and the awesome memories that go with it. I wish we could stay forever. At least with the videos, the memories remain and will not fade.  The accompanying music comes from Tee Bone Erickson, Dr. Kathryn Ladano, Max the Axe and the Seagram Synth Ensemble.  And it’s all good.  I worked damn hard on this, because making videos like this does a lot of good for me when my seasonal affective disorder eventually kicks in.  I worked hard on it for me, but also for you, because beauty is universal.

The best sun (and moon) sets in the world.  Magical music.  Awesome animals.  The best, of the best, of the best weekend ever!

#999: Slo-Mo Schnauzers, Stop Motion Autobots, and UFOs? Oh My! (Video)

RECORD STORE TALES #999:
Slo-Mo Schnauzers, Stop Motion Autobots, and UFOs? Oh My!

Nothing really went as planned when the internet went out.  So, we did what we could.  We pretended it was 1989 and had fun in old fashioned ways.  Good thing no LeBrain Train show was planned!  And boy, did we take advantage of the break.  Fortunately music was not an issue, so I warmed up the laptop and dug into the hard drive for some albums that reminded me of the old days.

To a soundtrack of Kiss, Kim Mitchell, Max Webster, Aerosmith, Alice Cooper, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, Iron Maiden, and many more, I grabbed the comic books and the Yahtzee.  It was too cold to swim (weird for July) so we had to do other things.  Jen worked on her adult colouring books.  I made food.  I also took plenty of video.

The wildlife this weekend was captured for your viewing pleasure.  Plenty of gulls, eating multitudes of beach insects (which were so plentiful you can clearly see them on camera).  We had a brave little chipmunk who seemed to enjoy the sounds of Aerosmith.  I think I’ll name him Joe Perry.  There were two cute doggos (one Schnauzer and one Miscellaneous), which I filmed in slow motion.  The visuals this weekend were unrivalled!  A pretty epic night fire, and sunsets that kill any you have seen yourself.  All captured and carefully edited to a soundtrack of unreleased Max the Axe music, and classic Tee Bone Erickson tunes.  Although the finished video is on the long-ish side, your reward is unreleased Max tuneage (one live, and a preview of a coming remix of “Randy”) and plenty of stunning visuals in HD slow motion.

We talked last time of being bored at the lake as a teenager.  If I had this kind of technology as a kid, I’d never had been bored.  That’s the truth.  There’s always something worth documenting.  The fact that I can have it finished and edited at the end of the weekend is actually pretty mind blowing.

The weirdest thing that happened (besides hearing a coyote calling at 11:30 at night, and then screaming at 5:00 AM), was the UFO.

Now, I’m not saying “aliens” when I say “UFO”.  Let’s be clear on that.  However the object was flying and none of us could identify it.  There were minimum three witnesses each time.  On the first night, the UFO appeared at sunset as a quickly brightening star, which eventually faded or was hidden by clouds.  It didn’t move.  My camera didn’t reveal much, although it looked like a blocky shape.  Our working theory was the International Space Station.

The second time, the object appeared in the same place at the same time, still motionless.  It looked like a flame in the sky, a frozen flame.  That’s the best way I can describe it.  It stayed in the sky until we eventually left the beach about half an hour later.  When I returned later at night, it was too cloudy to be seen.  Two examples below, and you can see more in the full video.

Internet outage aside, the only crappy thing about the weekend was that I did not get to visit Sausagefest as I’d hoped.  The internet outage disrupted Jen’s routines a bit and I elected to stay home and make sure she was OK.  As it stands I’m glad I made that decision, as she needed a little help doing a few things.

Otherwise, it was a delightful weekend of music and doing things differently.  I wish I had written down all the albums we listened to, but with no movies and no TV, music was the obvious dominant force.  A lot of Kiss this weekend, folks.  A lot of Kiss.

The video may be long but it’s worth it.  Slo-mo Schnauzer is your payoff!

 

#997: De-Programming

RECORD STORE TALES #997:  De-Programming

 

On July 8, there was a massive nation-wide service outage in Canada.  No cable, no cellular, no internet.  As stinky as this situation was, it did create a time machine of sorts.  Jen and I were already celebrating the summer of ’89 with albums such as Pump and Dr. Feelgood.  The internet outage really took us back to 1989 (and earlier) in a specific way.

I’ve written in glowing terms about childhood and cottage life.  Rose coloured glasses, my friends.  Rose coloured classes.  For this service outage reminded us of the before-fore times when we had two channels on TV and nothing else.

So here I am, writing this in the middle of the outage, into a word document.  These are the fresh thoughts as they happen.

Thought the first:  Boy, am I ever glad I have my music collection meticulously backed up on hard drives.  Otherwise, I’d have no music.  To continue the summer of ’89 feel, we listened to the “Fire Woman” EP by The Cult.  Then, Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinking Rich by Warrant.

Second thought:  I remember I had something of a catchphrase at the cottage back then.  “I’m boooooored.”

Indeed, it is all coming back to me now!  I was bored a lot up here.  I had my music (on cassette) and some books with me at all times, but that wasn’t enough to stave off the boredom of a pimply teenager with hockey hair.

I think it’s worse today because we’ve been conditioned to be able to look stuff up on demand.  As I listened to The Cult, I wanted to read the lyrics.  I wanted to look up the production personnel.  I’m conditioned to be able to do that.  I’m constantly distracted by wanting to look stuff up.

Additionally, I am always used to a steady stream of messages through the day, be they emails or comments.  I’m trained to look at my phone every so often to glance at notifications.  That reflex is there even now.  I’m trying to de-program myself today.

The summer of 1989 was the year that I declared Warrant to be my favourite new band.  So let’s go where the “Down Boys” go, and figure out what was so boring about this place to the teenager with nothing to do.

The most exciting thing to do for me back then was to go to town.  Then I’d have the opportunity to buy a new rock magazine or perhaps a tape at the Radio Shack or Stedman’s stores.  Some candy too if we were lucky.  But a teenager needed a family to take him to town, and they didn’t always want to go to town.  And if they did, it was on their terms, which meant a lot of waiting around as they tried on shoes or looked at knick-knacks.

I’m boooooored.

We usually split into groups.  The ladies (my aunt, mom and sister) would go to the knick-knack stores.  My dad and I would go to Radio Shack, Stedman’s and Leisure World.  And then we’d sit around waiting for the others.

I’m boooooored.

We’d play games, but you’d have to wait for everybody to be ready.  Mom had to make her coffee.  Sister had to dry her hair.

I’m boooooooored!

I enjoyed helping my dad cook dinner.  Always a cottage highlight for me.  I’d season the steaks, make the fire, and let my dad take it from there.  We made a lot of good steaks over cedar fires in 1989.

I enjoyed when my friend Bob, who had a license and a car (Pontiac Fiero), would drive up for a visit.  His family had a trailer about 30 minutes south.  His trailer park even had girls!  There were never any girls to meet at the cottage.  The isolation here was a lot to deal with for a teenager.  No MuchMusic, no VCR, no music videos at all.

Just now, I wanted to Google how far away his trailer park was, to get the details right.  No internet.  Must de-program.

It’s not like I was meeting any girls at home, but at least I could go to the mall and run into school friends.  At the cottage I couldn’t even call them.  Today I have Jen with me, and my sister is right next door, so the isolation isn’t really an issue.  While I wish I could message Harrison or Meat with my latest thoughts, they’ll just have to wait.  And if I can’t remember the thoughts to message them, then they couldn’t have been all that important.  De-programming!

Compared to yesteryear, I have more freedom.  Here I am on the front porch, rocking to Warrant and nobody’s telling me to go to my room or turn it down.  If I want to go make a fire, nobody will tell me not to.   I don’t have to wait for anyone else if I feel like swimming.  If I want to barbecue a steak for lunch, good on me.

One thing that never bored me:  a cottage project like putting on a new deck.  It was always a communal effort with all of us contributing to cutting and nailing wood.  Maybe I’d even be allowed to bring my ghetto blaster outside to listen to music (at a reasonable volume).

Sometimes we’d play baseball (not easy with all the trees in the way), badminton, frisbee, darts.  Pellet guns were always stocked with ammo and tin cans were kept for target practice.  It’s not that there was nothing to do.  It’s that I didn’t always want to do that stuff because I’d rather be bored.

Sometimes we’d be so bored we’d count the seams in the ceiling planks.

This deprogramming stuff is hard.  We’ve been heavily conditioned to be connected.  I’ve written all I have to say at the moment, so I’m going to pick some more tunes to play, and go make a fire.  Fascinating weekend, this will be.

 

#917: The Dangerous Walk of Death

RECORD STORE TALES #917: The Dangerous Walk of Death

Some of my fond childhood places no longer exist.  What I would give to see some of those places again, as they were in my memories.  Hi-Way Market, the old Record Store at the mall, or my grandpa’s old place in Guelph.  Scant photos exist today.

I did find a couple of pictures from one old place that is no longer as it was.  And that place is called the Dangerous Walk of Death.

One of the fulfilling activities at the cottage was to go for a long walk.  If you said “I’m going for a walk,” it could mean you’d be gone for hours.  There was so much to explore in just our little subdivision.  If we walked to the north, there was a river and sometimes we’d walk along the riverbed and explore it inland.  To the south was another river and the Dangerous Walk of Death.

My dad and sister discovered this place.  There was a road to the south we called the “K” road.  Today it is Kuehner Street.  It had developments on both sides and came to an abrupt end after several cottages.  It ended at a trail, and that is where our fun began.  When we were very young, I used to scared my sister by telling her that “Henry the Hermit” lived in the very woods that our little trail crossed through.  (I also convinced my cousin that sharks could swim up through the pipes into the toilets.)

When you entered the trail, you were immediately swallowed by the trees and things got dark quickly.  It was a narrow space but you never passed anyone else.  You had to walk single file.  It seemed to be our place and our place alone.

If you traced this trail all the way to the end, there was a clearing where an old abandoned cottage once burned down.  Then, the river that my dad dubbed “Dead Man’s River”.  He called it that for good reason.  Snapping turtles were known to make their home there.  We were careful not to step in the waters of Dead Man’s River.

Today there is a quaint little walking bridge that takes you over to the next subdivision.  In our day, it was only possible to cross when the riverbed was dry.  But crossing was not the way to the Dangerous Walk of Death.  To embark on that journey, one had to follow the river inland.

Once again, my dad and sister found the inland path.  It had obviously been purposely cleared by someone many years ago.  It ran parallel to the river, through the deep forest.  Dad used to tell us that many of these trails were original indigenous hunting grounds.  He was probably right.  Artefacts were found by an archaeological team several years ago that proved the original inhabitants used to fish there.  We were acutely aware that we were on very old land when we went on our walks.  The wilderness had probably not changed that much and it was easy to imagine stepping back in time and bumping into a tribe of fishermen and hunters.  They would have had a different name for this place.

Inland we walked, through different kinds of terrain.  There was one area we called “stump land”.  You had to watch your step, and walking there at night was foolish.  Many times did one of us trip in our journey through stump land.

In the middle of stump land was a very small clearing with a large rock in the middle of it.   Sitting Rock.  This was our stopping point.  It was quite scenic.  The sun would dance through the trees making spectacular patterns of light on the ground.  Fortunately I have a picture of this very place as it was in the mid-90s.  An ex-girlfriend and I made a trip to the lake in August 1995 and took this picture.  A much skinnier me is seated upon the rock.  My Jann Arden “Insensitive” hat, a free promo from the Record Store, sits on my melon. And there I am on my mossy seat.  I used to think this would be a cool spot to film a music video — me on acoustic guitar.  Once, I sketched a picture of how cool I’d look playing acoustic guitar on top of Sitting Rock, me and my mullet and a guitar I couldn’t play.  In the real photo, to my right you can see the trail behind.  But this was not the place to turn back.  Greater challenges and better views were ahead.

Following the trail further inland, you would reach a spot that appeared to be the end of the line.  However if you pushed through the overgrown branches, you would find a sparsely wooded area that went steeply uphill.  Watch your step that you don’t go over the Cliffs of Insanity.

This was the end of our odyssey.  Here the trees cleared again and you could look down upon the river below.  I do not have a picture of the view from here, but I do have a picture of us crouching at the edge of the cliff.  The only hint of the chasm beneath are the trees behind us.  You can tell from the distance and height of these trees that there must be a large gorge behind.

Here we usually turned back.  In younger and more adventurous years we kept venturing inland through the woods until we finally hit the main road.  Then we would walk back home.  But that way was far longer and stank of anticlimax.  Our pilgrimage’s natural end was at the cliffs and I’m glad I at least have a partial photographic document of this walk.

If Sitting Rock is still there, then it is inaccessible and on private land.   These photos could be the only ones that exist of our old stomping grounds.  And before us, the ones that lived off this land.

#910: Fox on the Run

RECORD STORE TALES #910: Fox on the Run

There’s a wily fox that’s been prowling the grounds up at the lake.  This weekend I caught my first real sight of him.  I saw him twice in one day.  He has no fear of humans.  He is usually carrying prey in his mouth.  I’ve named him Reddy, after Reddy Fox from the classic children’s cartoon The Green Forest.

The first time I saw the fox, I was on the front porch rocking away as I often do.  The porch did a lot of rocking this weekend.  The star of the show was the new album by Adrian Smith and Richie Kotzen.  The debut Smith/Kotzen CD is turning into an early summer favourite.  In particular, the song “Running” is quite incredible. I didn’t know how well the two very different singer/guitarists would mesh. Like cream and coffee. Glowing review to come.

Styx, Kiss, Queen, Ace Frehley, Rush, and Marillion all saw a lot of porch action this weekend. I was playing one of them when the fox ran past again, this time up close and personal. I saw a flash of red and then the movement. He was swift. He moved with the steady determination of a wild animal completely disinterested in its surroundings. He was within six feet me of when he strode past. It made a hacking sound. It did not care that I was there, nor anyone else that he galloped past on his way to wherever he was going.

On neither appearance did I have any chance of grabbing a picture. There was no way. It happened in two seconds. There only chance would have been if he walked past during the rare instances I was running my lake cam. But he never did. I know I’ll see him again. His blatant disregard for humans means he’ll be back. He wasn’t phased by the Schnauzers barking at him either. He’s like a Borg, only interested in one thing and that’s where he’s going. So long as you’re not in his way, he’s completely disinterested.   He moves swiftly with no hesitation and no pause.  It was an interesting thing to feel so completely outside of nature at that moment.

I’ve been coming to this place for almost five decades.  I missed a few summers, but a fox is a rare sighting indeed.  We’ve had plenty of rabbits, porcupine, skunks, and even a few deer and one bear.  Foxes are elusive.  Not this guy though.

I doubt I will ever be quick enough to get a picture of that fox, but I will make sure to keep my eyes open for a sighting.  At least we know he’s not afraid of the sound of music.  I have the new Styx on deck for next weekend.  Let’s see what happens.

#907: Lake Listenin’

RECORD STORE TALES #907: Lake Listenin’

These days, I like playing music at the lake that takes me back in time.  Maybe that’s the curse of getting older.  Everything reminds me of something else.  Since that’s the case, I might as well make the most of it.  If I’m having a good time at the lake, there is nothing better than music that reminds me of having a good time at the lake.

I set the scene with a very relaxing drive, to the 80s tunes of Kim Mitchell’s self-titled EP, plus Shakin’ Like a Human Being, and The Sport of Kings by Triumph.  It was golden.

Instead of diving right into the nostalgia pool right away again upon arrival, I officially started the weekend with some music that is new to me:  Coney Hatch and Andy Curran.  My current favourite Coney Hatch tunes are “First Time For Everything” from Outa Hand, and “She’s Gone” & “Wrong Side of Town” from Friction.  Arriving Thursday night, these tunes, along with Curran’s “No Tattoos”, led our evening on the porch, watching the sun set.  Not only did the tunes get us psyched for the weekend, but also next week’s LeBrain Train.  Andy is our guest again, so I am preparing once more.

I closed the night studying up for the next day’s episode:  the Nigel Tufnel Top Ten Judas Priest albums.  This “remastered” episode was an update on one that Harrison and I did on Facebook Live a year ago.  I re-watched the episode from the previous year, very much enjoying myself.  Harrison and I had a great time the first outing, though the second one surely topped it!

When I’m at the lake, I try to keep the volume to a reasonable level.  I like to take a walk to the end of the driveway and down the road and check the levels.  A little music at the end of the driveway is OK but I don’t want to hear myself down the road.  However, I said “to hell with that” for the rest of the weekend, when the neighbours had a loud party on the Friday night.

“I hope they enjoy ‘Detroit Rock City’ at 6:00 am,” I said.

So that’s how my Saturday began:  Destroyer, cranked.  Destroyer has never been my favourite Kiss album by a long shot, but for some reason it just clicked with me that morning.  The cool breeze coming off the lake, the birds and squirrels bickering over my head; and Kiss Destroyer on the speakers.  Things you don’t think would go together, but in my brain, actually do.  I would have played Destroyer at the lake as a kid — many times.  The difference was, now nobody was telling me to turn it down.  Apparently that “if it’s too loud, you’re too old” thing doesn’t apply.  As I get older, I love it loud.

After Destroyer came Rock and Roll Over, Dynasty, and the complete audio to the video Exposed.  This included all the studio tracks from the music videos, all the live tracks exclusive to the video, and even that little nugget of Paul and Gene harmonizing on “I’ll Be Back” by the Beatles.  As a kid, I made something similar on a cassette.  I recorded all the live stuff and “I’ll Be Back” from the VHS tape and made an album out of it.  I left off the music videos.  Today, I ripped all the music from the DVD directly to mp3 and made a double album out of it!  I sat there in wonder listening, imagining what my younger self would have thought of such an audio miracle.

That’s a lot of Kiss though; solid Kiss with no other bands breaking the streak.  When I did finally need an intermission from Kiss, I chose Iron Maiden’s Piece of Mind.  I actually bought that album at the lake in the summer of ’85, at an old record store that used to exist on the main street.

As far as volume goes, keep in mind I’m blasting my music on a $24 pair of speakers from Amazon.  The guy partying across the street must have had something stronger because I could identify “The Impression That I Get” by the Bosstones easily from my seat on the porch.

“I hope they like Star Wars,” I said as I cued up The Empire Strikes Back on my Disney Plus.

I had another revelation while watching Empire.  Objectively, it could be the best Star Wars, but because nostalgia is my thing, I flashed back to 1980.  1981.  1982.  1983.  The golden era of Star Wars fandom.  For a long time, at that ripe age, we were left with two major cliffhangers.  What would happen to the frozen Han Solo, and was Darth Vader lying about being Luke’s father?  Hard to believe but we spent years — an eternity of a child’s age, a significant fraction of our lives — not knowing the answers.

We also had to spend this time making up things to do with our Han Solo figures.  He was frozen in carbonite at this time.  Sometimes I took my Solo figure and froze him in ice in the freezer.  We used our imaginations.  Empire was such a huge part of our childhood.  For me the Empire era ran from age seven to just before age eleven.  It was the Star Wars for which I had all the collector’s cards (first series), the soundtrack, the “story of” record, the comic, the novel, colouring books, and just about everything else you could buy.  The bedsheets — check.  Dixie cups — check.  Burger King glasses — also check.  We had a good chunk of Kenner figures from that era.  We had everything we could possibly get our hands on.

Except the movie itself.  That, we could not recreate on a whim.  We brought our toys, our comics and our cards to the lake so we could re-imagine the movie.  But we could not watch it.

That was a luxury that was not lost on me as I sat on the porch watching the Battle of Hoth.  I smiled ear to ear knowing this.  Something unimaginable during the actual Empire era.  Though, we did indeed see The Empire Strikes Back at the lake.  And it wasn’t the special editions.  We saw the original, at the drive-in.  It was in a double feature with a bicycling movie called Breaking Away, which we slept through.  My sister slept through most of Empire, too!  She was only three.

I took a break in the middle of The Empire Strikes Back to take a dip in the water.  But the Sooners had come.

“Sooners” is how my dad refers to the people who show up to go to the beach for day.  I wondered what “Sooners” meant so I looked it up.  He must have got it from one of his cowboy movies.  Sooner:  “a person settling on land in the early West before its official opening to settlement in order to gain the prior claim allowed by law to the first settler after official opening.”

I don’t see how that applies to the beachgoers, but the name stuck.

Anyway there were a bunch of Sooners at the beach.  There was Man-Bun and his two girlfriends, and a family of seven who parked their bikes right in front of our place.  I know my dad would have had a fit.  The bikes were well out of the way, but it’s no fun trying to back your car out of the driveway with any kind of obstruction, so I get it.

The Sooners weren’t as bad as the renters.  They had a huge dog — the size of a small pony — that kept going after Jen any time we walked down the path to the beach on our own property.  They’d scold the dog but not put him on a leash.  I say “him” because his name was clearly Frank.  Who names their dog Frank?  Seriously.

I don’t know who held the party that night.  The salvos of US-grade fireworks began when I was sleeping.  Jen says they were still going off at 1 am.  I say “US-grade” fireworks because I know the difference.  There are the kind you can buy in the convenience stores here, and there are the ones you can’t.  This was the stuff you can’t.  On and on and on it went.  It seemed to be coming from the renters’ place.  When I went down to the beach the following morning, their firepit was still smouldering.  Late night party fire?

What could I do?  I woke up and blasted Aerosmith.  I played them while packing the car, on the car system, doors open.  I hope you like Toys in the Attic.

Sooners and renters aside, summer has gotten off to a tremendous start.  Maybe next time, I’ll play all new albums and make some new memories.  It doesn’t particularly matter — the setting is conducive to to anything you want to listen to.  And now that I can bring my entire music collection with me in my pocket, I am limited only by my own whims.

I am a lucky guy.

Sunday Chuckle: Nuclear Iodine Pills

How things have changed at the cottage in just two years. It is true that Kincardine is not far from Bruce Nuclear. What’s new is the mandatory early warning system (in case of meltdown) and government-issued emergency iodine pills! Welcome to the atomic age.  Cottage essentials used to be beach towels, a few candles if the power went out, and lots of card games.  Now it’s distant early warnings and nuclear iodine pills!

REVIEW: Kim Mitchell – Shakin’ Like A Human Being (1986)

KIM MITCHELL – Shakin’ Like A Human Being (1986 Alert)

Kim Mitchell really seemed to soften up on 1986’s Shakin’ Like A Human Being.  It’s Mitchell’s most successful album, featuring the massive hit single “Patio Lanterns”.  A lot of people are very fond of Shakin’ Like A Human Being, but I for one find it inferior to Akimbo Alogo in almost every way, especially production. Still, I haven’t played Shakin’ in a couple years, so let’s have a listen and try to be fair.

KIM_0004There’s certainly nothin’ wrong with the opener, “Get Lucky (Boys and Girls)”.  Kim wisely commenced the party with a rocker similar to Akimbo Alogo.  Synths are kept to a minimum, and a shout-along chorus that’s easy to remember is always a plus on a Kim Mitchell album.  Pye’s lyrics are as cool as ever.  “The more moral you get the more oral we get.”  I love that.  Kim tops the cake with a fun melodic guitar solo which is like the cherry on top — uber sweet.

Paul Delong is a fantastic drummer, and he gets a nice long (but clanky) intro on “In My Shoes”.   Unfortunately the song itself suffers from too much synth and programming.  It does have a nice little guitar lick to it and a great chorus, but the song is just too middle of the road.  “Alana Loves Me”, though a ballad, is better.  The chorus, featuring Peter Fredette, is stellar.  Too bad that synth is back.

“Patio Lanterns” sure does bring on the nostalgia.  The lyrics are so pure and perfect.  Even though it’s one of Kim’s softest moments, there is an integrity here in its earnest honesty.  Although Max Webster were a progressive rock band, as a solo artist Kim Mitchell definitely evolved into cottage rock.  This kind is song is the type that we hosers play on those warm July evenings on the cottage patio, outside speakers and beer at the ready.  It’s the kind of song everybody seems to like.

Side closer “That’s the Hold” is the hardest rock moment on the album.  It’s one of my favourite 80’s Kim rockers, and if didn’t have so much damn synth on it, it would be a classic.  The live version on I Am A Wild Party is much better.  Too bad.

The second side commences limply with “In Your Arms”.  This is just synthetic syrup.  This is the only song that isn’t written by the duo of Mitchell and Dubois: keyboardist Todd Booth co-wrote it, which might explain why I cannot discern any guitars until the song is half done.  But it gets worse:  I cannot stand “City Girl”.  There is no redeeming value to this steaming pile of synth and bad lyrics.

The fine country twang of the hit “Easy to Tame” is unfortunately tempered by…grrrr!…too much damn synth!  I should be able to hear Kim’s Fender clear and true, but it is buried beneath keys.  It’s still a great song, but all I really want is to hear what it would sound like without the keys. The music video, vocals and guitar solo are all great at least.  Incidentally, the music video is a completely different mix of the song.

“Cameo Spirit” is pretty cool, although it’s another slow keyboard song.  This is the kind of sentimental ballad that Kim became very adept at writing, post-Max.  His spare guitars are delightful, but I only wish for more of them.  The final track “Hitting the Ground” is equally good, but also equally drenched in keys.  The chorus is stellar, as are Pye’s lyrics.  Fortunately there are some guitars to sink your teeth in.  At least you end the album on an up note.

Sadly, Shakin’ Like A Human Being is the last Kim Mitchell album to feature his legendary O.P.P. (Ontario Provincial Police) baseball hat on the cover.  Shakin’ could have been a great album, equal or superior to Akimbo.  I place blame fully on the production.  Kim Mitchell self produced this album, so if anyone is to blame for all the synth and keyboards, it’s gotta be him.  Of note, Kim produced it at Le Studio, the same place Rush recorded Moving Pictures.  Too bad.  Oh what might have been.

2.5/5 stars