At the “Springilicious Festival” in Niagara Falls, Ontario, we met up with my cousin’s work friends and started drinking. One friend introduced himself to me by saying, “Hi. I’m John. I play bass.” (Did I mention that I play guitar?”)
I had to come back with, “Did you hear about the drummer who locked himself in the van?”
“No”
“It took the bass player an hour to get him out.”
“Why?”
One drawback to my dawdling in Buffalo was that by the time it occurred to me to check out the food most of the booths were closing up. The Haitian booth was still open. The lady at the booth was shy about my camera, but I flattered her and then showed her the picture and offered to erase it of she didn’t like it. She blushed charmingly and waved me away.
I thought I ordered a curried chicken, but ended up with some kind of fritter and fried plantains.
After a short break to eat the mystery fritter, I stood up and picked up my bag, and the camera just flew out, end over end, smashing into the concrete. It didn’t happen in slow motion, as dramatic as that would have been. Luckily, I was hanging out with techie-minded engineers who physically pushed the lens back in. I now was forced to shoot in Manual mode for the first time ever.
As a result, the rest of the pictures in this series are going to be compromised as I am forced to learn Manual mode. The photos are all wacky, as I am often unaware that the setting is off and cannot make the broken lens focus on anything less than 3 feet away. Later, back in LA, when I had to cough up for a new lens, they sold me a lens filter to try and counteract my cavalier attitude towards my gear. The woman added, “The cover has UV protection too, so that’s good.”
I asked, “So I don’t get cancer in that one eye?”
She just stared at me, like, “How do you even walk around without hurting yourself?”
Sad as I was about the camera, ice cream makes everything better. The gelato booth even had nougat, an uncommon flavor and definitely better than chocolate.
When I had heard that April Wine was playing, the name sounded so familiar, but I didn’t know any of their songs offhand. I had thought it would be like Jethro Tull or Lord Sutch. It turned out to be more of a hair band, like bands that pronounce “higher” as “Hiyaaahhh.” I asked one of the guys when I should expect the power ballad.
“Probably any time now.”
“How many times do they say the word ‘lady’?”
“This isn’t Styx.’
“I know. But it’s the third law of the power ballad that it must include the word ‘lady'”
So I was really gratified to hear this song. So gratified I had to go find that guy and point at the stage and raise my eyebrows at him. Because I am such a lady. Or could have been.
Could have been alright, could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
I could have been alright, I could have been here tonight
Could have been sweet as wine, you could have been a lady
It’s disturbingly catchy.
“I could have been allllriiiight…could have been here toniiiiight…could have been sweet as wiiiine….you could have been a ladyyyyy.”
In fact it kind of reminded me of my favorite song from The Office.
“…so wrong so right all night, alright, oh yeah. Oh yeah”
We stopped off for drunk food at Somebuddy’s Casual Family Dining. It was a little Hooters-esque, but I have no problem with cute girls in short shorts sexily wiping down tables. And hey, they had poutine – official drunk food of the great white north.
In a segment on the television series “This Hour Has 22 Minutes” during the 2000 American election, Rick Mercer convinced then-Governor of Texas George W. Bush that Canada’s Prime Minister, Jean Chrétien, was named Jean Poutine. – Wikipedia
This was definitely one of my stranger moments in food porn. Imagine me insistently slurring, “Wait! Wait! Don’t touch the poutine! I have to get my signature shot!”
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