First cottage show is done for the record books!
Two surprise guests made this nice extra special: John T. Snow of 2Loud2OldMusic, and my wife Jen! Together with Harrison, Kevin and Rob, we looked at:
Thanks for watching everyone!
Today is our anniversary! In this throwback post from 2019, enjoy some wicked looking steaks.
RECORD STORE TALES #776: (Wag)yu Shook Me All Night Long
For highway driving, nothing quite hits the spot like AC/DC. It feels right. Who Made Who works as a quickie “greatest hits” selection for a quick spin down Highway 401. Mrs. LeBrain and I were heading to the GTA to celebrate 11 years as a married couple. We rocked to “You Shook Me All Night Long” on the dance floor that night, and we were returning to the very same location once more.
Highway 401 is in a perpetual state of construction, but good music helps take the edge off. This was my first drive that way in the new vehicle, and also the first with my latest gadget, a nifty dash cam that is sure to provide lots of content for my YouTube channel in the coming months.
Sorry, quick tangent: Phil Rudd is the “man”, but Simon Wright doesn’t get enough credit for his time on the AC/DC drum stool. AC/DC isn’t an easy beat to get the feel for, and every AC/DC drummer has their own approach. The 1980s were a period of hard-hitters and Simon Wright was the perfect drummer for that era. His precision is absolute on “Who Made Who” and it just sounds right. Compare the original to Chris Slade’s interpretation on AC/DC Live. That’s all I have to say about that.
We arrived at the hotel mid-afternoon and I settled into the jacuzzi pretty quickly. I wanted to do a funny gangsta style photo in the hot tub with me holding a couple of American dollar bills. I was thinking about when Floyd Mayweather threw the $1s at Conor McGregor. And holy shit did Facebook react.
“Dude you look like if Kuato from Total Recall was successfully removed from his twin, grew up, lived a long and depressing life and got really excited when someone gave him 2 bucks to sh!t in the local YMCA jacuzzi.”
Two things: Yes, I had pants on. And yes, that “gang sign” is the Vulcan salute. Relax. Let a man enjoy his jacuzzi, publicly on social media like damn 20 year old. Are you not entertained?!
We did some shopping. Because, like an idiot, I forgot to bring a nice pair of shoes for dinner, I had to get a new pair just for this one night. Then we met up with Jen’s best friend Lara for lunch. Did some more shopping. I wanted to go to stores that we don’t have at home. There isn’t much of that, just the same old chains. We did hit one up cool store, where I bought something called “Jean Guy”, but we couldn’t find any cool music or toy stores. At least I got my shoes!
So where were we headed? In ’08 when we got married it was the Pavilion Royale, but now it is a high end restaurant called 17 Steakhouse & Bar. It’s very different on the inside, but recognizable. There was the dance floor, where I once spun to “You Shook Me All Night Long”. But we chose 17 for more than sentimental reasons. The main draw was the real Japanese A5 wagyu. And that’s what this chapter is really about.
I’ve never had real wagyu in my life and American wagyu was not going to do it. You only live once. Carpe diem. Go big or go home. It’s only money. All that bullshit. I’d done my research, I knew what I was getting my wallet into. I’d been planning it over a year.
We started with a simple but delicious field green salad, with incredible goat cheese. The smoothest goat cheese I’ve ever tasted. Only when we finished the salads did they began firing our steaks. None of that “here comes your main dish before you’ve finished your starter” nonsense. Jennifer chose the US prime T-bone, medium rare, and let me tell you, that alone could have been the best steak I’ve ever tasted. It was 25 oz, so more than enough to share. So tender! With cripsy, tasty fat.
Jen’s steak could easily have been the most tender I’ve ever tried, if not for my Japanese A5 wagyu. Market price was $30 per oz. I chose an 8 oz striploin, medium rare. You should always get a wagyu steak cooked to medium rare. I was electric with tense anticipation. The steaks arrived, cooked precisely to order.
I gently cut a thin slice, which came off like butter. There was a lovely char on the outside, a crisp splash of flat, and then the most tender meat you can imagine. It was seasoned simply and perfectly, the saltiness enhancing that beefy umami. On the tongue, it was like butter with only the slightest sensation of a meaty texture. I probably didn’t even have to chew.
It’s a very rich piece of meat, far more than I anticipated. I’d estimate that I finished about 3/4 of my meal, leaving a $60 chunk of wagyu in my takeout bag. And that chunk of leftover wagyu was the best lunch I ever had the following day.
For sides, we ordered the fingerling potatoes roasted in duck fat and thyme, the asparagus with hollandaise, and the scalloped potatoes au gratin. Of those three, the asparagus was the clear winner, with the potatoes au gratin in second place. Only I liked the fingerling potatoes; Jen didn’t care for them, leaving her batting average with any form of duck to be zero.
We had an incredible dessert of cheesecake, Crème brûlée and whipped cream which was supernaturally good. Everything was.
Having had probably the most expensive steak I’ll ever buy, was it worth it? If you are a steak lover, then yes, it is worth it. And I love steaks. A little goes a long way, but every steak lover should try real Japanese wagyu once. It’s unlike anything I’ve had before and it is easily categorised as a true delicacy. Having said that, should we return to 17 Steakhouse in a year, I don’t know that I would order it again, and that is only because there are other interesting features on their menu that I would like to try. The 36 oz tomahawk would be a sight to behold, though I couldn’t eat it all myself. I would also like to try the Porterhouse, the lobster bisque, and beef tartare.
Yes, the wagyu was worth it, and I can still taste and feel its texture on my palette. It won’t be for everyone except in small doses. They have a 4 oz minimum order, and I suggest that may the perfect size to experiment with.
17 Steakhouse & Bar gets 5/5, and so does the wagyu. 
We started with AC/DC so we’ll finish with AC/DC. Who made wagyu? 17 Steakhouse did, and it was hell’s bells! I couldn’t wait to sink the pink steak in my mouth. It’ll shake your foundations just like it shook mine. It’s a little bit of a ride on, down the 401, but worth the drive. Hell ain’t a bad place to be(ef)!* For those about to rock, I wagyu.
* Courtesy 1537
There have been a lot of anniversaries lately. On January 4, I celebrated (but not did not post about) 15 years of freedom from the Record Store. (Why beat a dead horse?) But today I choked up a bit when I saw the photo.
I say it was the happiest day of my life. It was the day I brought Jen home from the hospital after finishing her cancer surgery. The photo says it all. Look at that face. The glow. Just looking at her, reminds me of how worried I was. How much I missed her. How happy I was to be able to drive her home that day.
It was not a pleasant time when she was in hospital. It was a harsh winter. The drive to London and back was hell. I wasn’t eating. Finishing an apple was an ordeal. Meanwhile poor Jen was dealing with that nauseating hospital food. She started a game called “Guess the Grossness” where she would post pictures of her meals and people had to guess what they were. She was so strong at that time.
Little did we know that her mom, who was supporting us through all this, had less than nine months left to live. I can tell a secret now. The night that Jen had her surgery, her mom collapsed at the hospital. She hit the ground and bruised her face. She brushed it off and complained about a loose rug, and refused to be seen. Deep inside, I knew that she was hiding something. She didn’t tell us. I’ll never hold that against her — she did what she thought was right to support Jen, and I truly don’t know if we could have handled more stress at that time. So she quietly fought her own battle as Jen was dealing with hers. But that’s what happened. On the night my wife was recovering from her surgery, my beloved mother-in-law was dying of cancer that we didn’t even know about. But I could not have made it through all this without her support.
I dedicate this writing to Jen’s mom, who was with us side-by-side through it all, until she was unable to be. She was just as happy to have Jen home as I was. The picture says it all — the face of an angel aglow with life.
GETTING MORE TALE #854: Mushy
15 years seems like a long time even though it’s really just a blink of an eye. My life changed forever 15 years ago. That’s when I met Jen. A big gaping hole in my heart was filled forever that day. There was never really a question that she was the “right” one for me. She always knew.
She had my back from the start and helped give me the confidence that I needed to finally quit the Record Store. Since 2000, the environment there had become extremely toxic and I needed to get out for my own health. If she didn’t have my back, I wouldn’t have left and my sanity would have been frayed.
This extra-mushy post has been brought to you by love.
Our first few years together were filled with dreams. We talked about what we wanted to do for our wedding and what we were going to name our kids.*
Then she got sick. That put the brakes on some of our plans. Her doctor wanted us to wait to have kids. When her health got under control, we thought, we could have as many as we wanted. Two seemed like a great number. A boy and a girl. I really wanted a baby girl. As time went on we realized it was never going to happen.
“Why don’t you just adopt?” asked people who didn’t know our situation. Adoption stopped being possible when her health got worse. The reality was we needed someone to babysit her, not someone for us to babysit. It has been a tough reality but I’ve never regretted any of it. I’d rather live with just the two of us, than have kids with somebody else. If this is what our lives were meant to be, then so be it.
After we got married and settled in, we had to deal with loss after loss after loss. We still paid off the condo, and just rolled with everything that life threw at us. Every time one of us feels like giving up, the other one says “no way”. We’ve come too far to throw in the towel now. The things we’ve endured together would slay lesser mortals. Sometimes at night, I’ll just lie there thinking about how lucky I am.
We keep on keepin’ on. Because of her, love songs are sweeter and breakup songs don’t sting like they used to. We live quiet lives now but I’m never, ever bored. She gives me the time, space and inspiration to keep on writing. In exchange she can watch all the sports she wants! It’s a pretty sweet deal and I’ll never take for granted what a lucky bastard I am.
* She has never approved of my choice, Spencer Peter Oscar Carl Kevin. Spell out the initials.
GETTING MORE TALE #776: (Wag)yu Shook Me All Night Long
For highway driving, nothing quite hits the spot like AC/DC. It feels right. Who Made Who works as a quickie “greatest hits” selection for a quick spin down Highway 401. Mrs. LeBrain and I were heading to the GTA to celebrate 11 years as a married couple. We rocked to “You Shook Me All Night Long” on the dance floor that night, and we were returning to the very same location once more.
Highway 401 is in a perpetual state of construction, but good music helps take the edge off. This was my first drive that way in the new vehicle, and also the first with my latest gadget, a nifty dash cam that is sure to provide lots of content for my YouTube channel in the coming months.
Sorry, quick tangent: Phil Rudd is the “man”, but Simon Wright doesn’t get enough credit for his time on the AC/DC drum stool. AC/DC isn’t an easy beat to get the feel for, and every AC/DC drummer has their own approach. The 1980s were a period of hard-hitters and Simon Wright was the perfect drummer for that era. His precision is absolute on “Who Made Who” and it just sounds right. Compare the original to Chris Slade’s interpretation on AC/DC Live. That’s all I have to say about that.
We arrived at the hotel mid-afternoon and I settled into the jacuzzi pretty quickly. I wanted to do a funny gangsta style photo in the hot tub with me holding a couple of American dollar bills. I was thinking about when Floyd Mayweather threw the $1s at Conor McGregor. And holy shit did Facebook react.
“Dude you look like if Kuato from Total Recall was successfully removed from his twin, grew up, lived a long and depressing life and got really excited when someone gave him 2 bucks to sh!t in the local YMCA jacuzzi.”
Two things: Yes, I had pants on. And yes, that “gang sign” is the Vulcan salute. Relax. Let a man enjoy his jacuzzi, publicly on social media like damn 20 year old. Are you not entertained?!
We did some shopping. Because, like an idiot, I forgot to bring a nice pair of shoes for dinner, I had to get a new pair just for this one night. Then we met up with Jen’s best friend Lara for lunch. Did some more shopping. I wanted to go to stores that we don’t have at home. There isn’t much of that, just the same old chains. We did hit one up cool store, where I bought something called “Jean Guy”, but we couldn’t find any cool music or toy stores. At least I got my shoes!
So where were we headed? In ’08 when we got married it was the Pavilion Royale, but now it is a high end restaurant called 17 Steakhouse & Bar. It’s very different on the inside, but recognizable. There was the dance floor, where I once spun to “You Shook Me All Night Long”. But we chose 17 for more than sentimental reasons. The main draw was the real Japanese A5 wagyu. And that’s what this chapter is really about.
I’ve never had real wagyu in my life and American wagyu was not going to do it. You only live once. Carpe diem. Go big or go home. It’s only money. All that bullshit. I’d done my research, I knew what I was getting my wallet into. I’d been planning it over a year.
We started with a simple but delicious field green salad, with incredible goat cheese. The smoothest goat cheese I’ve ever tasted. Only when we finished the salads did they began firing our steaks. None of that “here comes your main dish before you’ve finished your starter” nonsense. Jennifer chose the US prime T-bone, medium rare, and let me tell you, that alone could have been the best steak I’ve ever tasted. It was 25 oz, so more than enough to share. So tender! With cripsy, tasty fat.
Jen’s steak could easily have been the most tender I’ve ever tried, if not for my Japanese A5 wagyu. Market price was $30 per oz. I chose an 8 oz striploin, medium rare. You should always get a wagyu steak cooked to medium rare. I was electric with tense anticipation. The steaks arrived, cooked precisely to order.
I gently cut a thin slice, which came off like butter. There was a lovely char on the outside, a crisp splash of flat, and then the most tender meat you can imagine. It was seasoned simply and perfectly, the saltiness enhancing that beefy umami. On the tongue, it was like butter with only the slightest sensation of a meaty texture. I probably didn’t even have to chew.
It’s a very rich piece of meat, far more than I anticipated. I’d estimate that I finished about 3/4 of my meal, leaving a $60 chunk of wagyu in my takeout bag. And that chunk of leftover wagyu was the best lunch I ever had the following day.
For sides, we ordered the fingerling potatoes roasted in duck fat and thyme, the asparagus with hollandaise, and the scalloped potatoes au gratin. Of those three, the asparagus was the clear winner, with the potatoes au gratin in second place. Only I liked the fingerling potatoes; Jen didn’t care for them, leaving her batting average with any form of duck to be zero.
We had an incredible dessert of cheesecake, Crème brûlée and whipped cream which was supernaturally good. Everything was.
Having had probably the most expensive steak I’ll ever buy, was it worth it? If you are a steak lover, then yes, it is worth it. And I love steaks. A little goes a long way, but every steak lover should try real Japanese wagyu once. It’s unlike anything I’ve had before and it is easily categorised as a true delicacy. Having said that, should we return to 17 Steakhouse in a year, I don’t know that I would order it again, and that is only because there are other interesting features on their menu that I would like to try. The 36 oz tomahawk would be a sight to behold, though I couldn’t eat it all myself. I would also like to try the Porterhouse, the lobster bisque, and beef tartare.
Yes, the wagyu was worth it, and I can still taste and feel its texture on my palette. It won’t be for everyone except in small doses. They have a 4 oz minimum order, and I suggest that may the perfect size to experiment with.
17 Steakhouse & Bar gets 5/5, and so does the wagyu.
We started with AC/DC so we’ll finish with AC/DC. Who made wagyu? 17 Steakhouse did, and it was hell’s bells! I couldn’t wait to sink the pink steak in my mouth. It’ll shake your foundations just like it shook mine. It’s a little bit of a ride on, down the 401, but worth the drive. Hell ain’t a bad place to be(ef)!* For those about to rock, I wagyu.
* Courtesy 1537
A sequel to Getting More Tale #332: Getting Older Everyday
GETTING MORE TALE #767: Just Older
Unless you’re a teenager buying booze with your fake ID, nobody likes being mistaken for older than they actually are.
When I was in my 30s, people used to think I was in my 20s. I looked younger and I dressed younger because I worked at a Record Store and I could get away with it. I bleached my hair, had piercings, and flashy shirts. I saw people working at hair salons looking like rock stars so I thought the same could work for me in a Record Store. Eventually I had a collection of over 30 flashy shirts. I don’t think my bosses were impressed with my new image, but it was a hit with the ladies.
I loved looking younger than my actual age but all good things come to an end.
After quitting the store I wanted to change my line of work and look more professional. The fancy shirts went into a closet. The pleather pants were saved for Halloween. The hair was toned down. Eventually it started to go grey. My beard turned white and I got fat. It can happen to anyone.
I own the “old man” schtick now, but there is still one thing that I hate. And I do mean hate.
Mrs. LeBrain is a little younger than me (I’m a 1972 model and she’s a 1978), but not by a significant difference. Where she wins is a natural youthful look. People always mistake her for someone much younger. She loves being asked for ID. That kind of thing makes her day. What pisses me off is when people mistake me for her father! And it keeps happening!
I took Jen to the hospital to have some tests done (no worries, all good) and had about an hour to kill. I had an mp3 player loaded up with Kiss. Because Heavy Metal OverloRd had been talking about Hotter Than Hell (a personal favourite and among the first Kiss records I ever owned), I decided to take a nice morning walk while listening to that album. When done I progressed onward to Rock and Roll Over. It was a lovely morning filled with cool summer breezes, trainspotting, and Paul Stanley at his peak.
I got back in good time and soon a nurse called to tell me Jen was all set to go. She led me to her bed, and I saw a big bright smile on her face. It’s the smile that keeps me going every day. “Hi ‘dad’!” she said grinning. I was confused. Did she have a seizure? Was she really mistaking me for her dad?
No, she was playing around. The nurse asked if she wanted them to call “her father” to come and get her. Me being her father! Jesus Murphy….
I hate, hate, hate being mistaken for her father! I didn’t even have my big white beard!
I’ll let it slide because those nurses did a great job as always, but c’mon!
I looked exactly like the guy in the photograph below. I don’t think he looks old enough to be Jen’s dad, do you?
The hat, maybe? The day I took Jen to the hospital I was wearing a Van Halen T-shirt and camo shorts with shoes and socks.
I have since shed the locks; a mixture of “shit brown” (my dad’s words) and grey highlights. I now rock the bald head again, but do I look any younger? I don’t think so.
It’s a game I just can’t win! Though it doesn’t really matter does it? Jen prefers me with less hair, and it’s a lot less work. I was just keeping it long just to have long hair at Sausagefest for once. I enjoyed that (it also kept my neck from getting burned), but long hair doesn’t feel nice in the summer time. It’s time to go back to what feels good!
I have a birthday coming up this week, but I’m not old. Just older!
There was no way I was letting Mrs. LeBrain throw out this treasure. A vintage New Kids on the Block pillow case from 1989! A keeper forever.
GETTING MORE TALE #726: Misplaced
I lost my favourite flash drive. It’s around here somewhere. Maybe I left it in a shirt pocket that ended up in the laundry. Flash drives can survive a go in the wash, that’s no big deal. It has 32 gig of various music on it, and it’s my handy dandy go-anywhere music solution. Most recently it had the complete studio albums of Black Sabbath, Van Halen, Deep Purple, and many more. Losing it (temporarily we hope) meant putting some tunes on another flash drive instead.
This time, I loaded it up with some AC/DC, Faith No More, Led Zeppelin, Rush, Joe Satriani, Whitesnake, and more. Jen had a day of errands to run, so I decided to use a vacation day and help her out.
Our first mission, for most people, was no big deal. In the lives of Mike and Jen, it requires planning and preparation: getting your photo ID at Service Ontario. You know those lovely pictures that look like mug shots because you’re not allowed to smile or show any facial expression at all? Those are an obstacle and a half for Jen. Why? Because she’s epileptic and can’t have her photo taken with a flash. Just another day in the Mike and Jen Show.
Since this wasn’t her first rodeo, Jen knew what to do. She learned the hard way last time. I know what you’re thinking. “Why don’t they just take a photo without a flash?” They can’t. Those cameras are hooked up in such a way that they cannot turn the flash off. Last time Jen had to do this, the staff at Service Ontario were absolutely stunned. This time, we called in advance and booked an appointment. Jen told them of her condition and made sure that they were prepared for her. Then she went to Walmart and had some photos taken without a flash. We picked the most bland-faced one of the bunch, and she had it printed up in various sizes and finishes so we’d have lots of options.
“Print it?” you’re asking. “Why not just give them a card with the pictures on it?” Yeah, they can’t do that either. So what we do, and it’s quite ingenious, is take the Walmart photo and tape it where you’d normally stand to have your picture taken. Then, they take a picture of that, while Jen looks away. It took a few tries but we got her photo ID today with no hassles. That was a first for Jen! Mission accomplished.
Then we hit the road for Mission #2. I loaded Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap up on the flash drive. The mission this time was really simple. We were going to visit Jen’s best friend Lara in Brampton for lunch. It was a lovely day for a drive and AC/DC kept my pedal to the metal. We both had a chuckle at the lyrics to Big Balls, with me remembering what it was like to be 10 years old and laughing every time Bon Scott said “balls”.
When Dirty Deeds ended, I threw on Rush’s Moving Pictures. On a recent episode of Eddie Trunk’s radio show, Geddy Lee left no doubt that Rush is over. Neil Peart has not only retired from Rush, he said, but from drumming altogether. The physical toll that those 40 years took on Peart’s body means he needed a permanent vacation. Rush will never play again. That was running through my mind when I selected Moving Pictures, but soon I was immersed, rushed down “the river” like a modern day Tom Sawyer.
We picked a cheap steak place for lunch called Chuck’s roadhouse. Surf & turf for $20? Sure, I’ll try anything once. Better than a fast food burger. My steak was overdone but I haven’t had a lobster tail in years! The sweet taste of lobster and salty butter was almost too much to bear. I could have cried with joy. Lobster is the ocean’s steak. That was the easiest $20 to spend, ever. I’d go back; maybe next time the steak won’t be over cooked!
We had a great lunch. Jen broke a plate, but like a true friend, Lara took the blame. We dropped her back off at work and headed home to Led Zeppelin’s In Through the Out Door. It’s a quirky one and that’s why I love it.
As we rocked to “Fool in the Rain”, Jen remarked on how much her musical taste had improved over the last 10 years. “I’ll always love Nirvana and Stone Temple Pilots, but now I like Led Zeppelin too.” Hey, I’m glad to have been a positive influence!
I think every music fan likes to share their favourites and hope it connects with somebody else. The car is my favourite place to do that. Thanks, Zep!
It has been a long hard road for Jen and I this whole year. It’s Sunday though, and that means a Sunday Chuckle, not a Sunday Mope! A few days ago, Jen finished cleaning out her mom’s house. We found some incredible stuff there. One of the books (from her dad’s collection) is over 200 years old. A few others were dated from the 1800s. Lots of cool stuff, but….
Also some not-so-cool stuffs.
Some context:
In the penultimate episode of Record Store Tales (Part 319: The Musical Crimes of LeBrain), my wife made fun of me for owning one song by Nickelback. The controversial Canadian quartet appeared on the ZZ Top tribute album A Tribute From Friends, performing (of all songs) “Legs”. Quite badly! She mocked me by writing, “Three words: MIKE OWNS NICKELBACK!” [Bold and underlining are hers.]
This is what I found in her old bedroom. You can tell it’s hers by the rainbow wallpaper.
There you have it. I had a song, but you had the poster, baby. You had the poster.
Still love you most though!
I took Friday March 16 off work to take Jen to her neurologist appointment in Toronto. We left Kitchener at 9 am and arrived shortly after 10. The receptionist told Jen that her appointment was for April 16, not March….
Feeling oh so terrible about it, she said to me, “I’m so sorry, you can watch all the Star Wars you want this weekend, I won’t even watch the Leafs vs. the Habs if that’s what you want.”
I said that isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to post this story as the next Sunday Chuckle!
mikeladano.com 