We've been approached (as a Band) to play at this year's TC 10k run. It has the makings of a gig that good things could come out of, but.......
We would have to be on the lawns to set up at five o'clock. In the morning. Now would be a good time to point out that the run is on a Sunday. The sun does not wake up before seven o'clock. In the morning. They "probably" can find us some power from somewhere, but really, it'll be up to us. Good luck trying to find anyone who isn't carrying a protest sign, a tent and/or pushing a shopping cart there at five o'clock in the morning. Chances are it will rain, so they "probably" can find a tent or tarp for us to set up ourselves in case we need it. You know, because playing on the wet ground in the pouring rain is oh so safe, what with all the cords and all. What could possibly go wrong with a stage set up like that?
We'd play for "probably three or four hours" with few, preferably no breaks during that time. They would have full access to our sound system to use as they wish. They'd like us to consider this a "charity event", they could "probably" pay us a two hundred dollars to cover costs, but were making no promises.
I know it's Saturday babies, but let's brush up on our math skills, shall we? A minimum of ten thousand people run this race. The cost to enter is thirty five dollars. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars (low ball figure, an estimated thirteen to fifteen thousand people will run this year) is a pretty good take, doncha think? Out of all of that, they can "probably" pay us?
Let me have a moment. Let me have another one. We probably won't do it.
Is this what runner's high is? Losing complete touch with reality? If that's the case, well , your humble HRG will keep right on walkin'....
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tsk Tsk Tsk
.........is really all I have to say. Ok, maybe not the only thing I have to say, but right now.....
Someone in TCB's family told me I was less than a good parent for not clinging so tightly to my adult child that he couldn't breathe. It's our "job" to protect them, no matter what they've done, no matter what the cost. I don't agree with that, never have, never will. How do they ever learn about life and struggles if not encouraged to set out on their own? How do they learn to get around if never allowed or encouraged to do it on their own? Chauffeur my grown son around to everything? Refuse to let him move out and live on his own or throw a tantrum when he does?Not likely. J laughed so hard at this and reminded me to consider the source and let it go. He's right. What an adult thing to say! But, what do I know? Being a horrible parent (and as a result, a horrible person) and all. To suggest that HRG is less than a loving, caring parent, less than a loving, caring human being cut me to the quick. The insults went farther than that, but that's not what we're here to talk about this morning.....
Before everyone get their panties in a twist and jumps to conclusion that I'm speaking directly to them....read on..... you see, this is the result of coddling.............
There's been a high profile case here. A man was murdered. Beaten to death in what was ultimately decided to be "self defence". Bullshit, plain and simple my babies. Bullshit. Ken Brotherston and his sons not only beat a man to death, but prevented anyone from calling for help and took the long way before dumping his body at the police station.
Why were they being blackmailed to the tune of a hundred grand? If they'd done nothing wrong, then why not just call the police? But you see babies, the sons had done something wrong, lots and lots of something wrong. And the one person who could've shone light on why he was attempting to extort that amount of cash was conveniently taken care of.
At any point the police could've been called. The Brotherstons had the choice of involving the authorities and letting them deal with it. Instead, they chose to appoint themselves judge, jury and executioner. They chose to beat a man nearly to death, and then watched him die as they took their time driving to get help. They stopped others from calling for help. They wanted Keith Taylor to die--their secrets died with him. Or so they think. The truth has a way of getting told, one way or another. It will come out. Eventually. Hopefully before they decided to teach someone else lesson.
But there's more, my babies! The sons, Ken jr and Greg (no acronyms here either, their names should never be forgotten....even though they are nothing more than low level thugs) were not supposed to be in the same place at the same time. Neither was to consume alcohol. Yet, there they were, their happy little family, with Ken sr and (mom) Marie feeding them booze, enabling the behaviour.....Both parents with their heads so far up their asses, choosing to ignore the obvious. You can't live in a very small, elitist area without knowing what everyone is up to. Worried that Keith Taylor was a dealer and addict? Look at your own Ken and Marie, Big time dealers, low rent thugs. In short, trailer trash. Just the way you raised them. I bet you're proud.
And now they've gotten away with it. Watching them smirk and swagger on the news made this groovy heart sick sick sick.
This brought back painful memories of something that happened to loved one of an old friend. He too was beaten to death by someone who had something to hide. Someone who could've called the police, but chose not to. He didn't have to die at the hands of someone else. Well, at the feet of someone much bigger who stomped on him so hard the internal damage done was ultimately fatal. And an innocent little girl grew up without her Dad. There was no justice for DT, he died and the person (can't call him a man, now can we?) who murdered him did less than three years at Club Fed. He's still dealing, still a thug, yet he walks free.
He's probably waiting at the bar to buy the Brotherstons the first round.
A hex on all of them!
HRG
Someone in TCB's family told me I was less than a good parent for not clinging so tightly to my adult child that he couldn't breathe. It's our "job" to protect them, no matter what they've done, no matter what the cost. I don't agree with that, never have, never will. How do they ever learn about life and struggles if not encouraged to set out on their own? How do they learn to get around if never allowed or encouraged to do it on their own? Chauffeur my grown son around to everything? Refuse to let him move out and live on his own or throw a tantrum when he does?Not likely. J laughed so hard at this and reminded me to consider the source and let it go. He's right. What an adult thing to say! But, what do I know? Being a horrible parent (and as a result, a horrible person) and all. To suggest that HRG is less than a loving, caring parent, less than a loving, caring human being cut me to the quick. The insults went farther than that, but that's not what we're here to talk about this morning.....
Before everyone get their panties in a twist and jumps to conclusion that I'm speaking directly to them....read on..... you see, this is the result of coddling.............
There's been a high profile case here. A man was murdered. Beaten to death in what was ultimately decided to be "self defence". Bullshit, plain and simple my babies. Bullshit. Ken Brotherston and his sons not only beat a man to death, but prevented anyone from calling for help and took the long way before dumping his body at the police station.
Why were they being blackmailed to the tune of a hundred grand? If they'd done nothing wrong, then why not just call the police? But you see babies, the sons had done something wrong, lots and lots of something wrong. And the one person who could've shone light on why he was attempting to extort that amount of cash was conveniently taken care of.
At any point the police could've been called. The Brotherstons had the choice of involving the authorities and letting them deal with it. Instead, they chose to appoint themselves judge, jury and executioner. They chose to beat a man nearly to death, and then watched him die as they took their time driving to get help. They stopped others from calling for help. They wanted Keith Taylor to die--their secrets died with him. Or so they think. The truth has a way of getting told, one way or another. It will come out. Eventually. Hopefully before they decided to teach someone else lesson.
But there's more, my babies! The sons, Ken jr and Greg (no acronyms here either, their names should never be forgotten....even though they are nothing more than low level thugs) were not supposed to be in the same place at the same time. Neither was to consume alcohol. Yet, there they were, their happy little family, with Ken sr and (mom) Marie feeding them booze, enabling the behaviour.....Both parents with their heads so far up their asses, choosing to ignore the obvious. You can't live in a very small, elitist area without knowing what everyone is up to. Worried that Keith Taylor was a dealer and addict? Look at your own Ken and Marie, Big time dealers, low rent thugs. In short, trailer trash. Just the way you raised them. I bet you're proud.
And now they've gotten away with it. Watching them smirk and swagger on the news made this groovy heart sick sick sick.
This brought back painful memories of something that happened to loved one of an old friend. He too was beaten to death by someone who had something to hide. Someone who could've called the police, but chose not to. He didn't have to die at the hands of someone else. Well, at the feet of someone much bigger who stomped on him so hard the internal damage done was ultimately fatal. And an innocent little girl grew up without her Dad. There was no justice for DT, he died and the person (can't call him a man, now can we?) who murdered him did less than three years at Club Fed. He's still dealing, still a thug, yet he walks free.
He's probably waiting at the bar to buy the Brotherstons the first round.
A hex on all of them!
HRG
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
A Little More Justice
....came for Nina today.
Forgive the re-posting of an old rant, babies, but as some of you are well aware, there was something about this case that hit this groovy old heart, and hard. For whatever reason, seeing Nina's picture for the first time struck me with an almost maternal pain. I can't explain it. Some things just stick with you.
Justice June Ross deserves an award! In overturning the manslaughter conviction which would've seen Stephanie Bird eligible for day parole this year, she instead sentenced her to life with absolutely no chance of parole for ten years. She has ten more years of incarceration to work in turning her life around. Does rehabilitation really work? Time will tell. But the stigma will follow her to the end of her life and beyond. She will always be regarded with suspicion and mistrust. She will always be isolated and shunned. If old traditions were still truly practiced, she would be shamed and cast out. Instead she will be locked away. At last someone had the balls to hold this girl accountable for her actions. Somebody finally spoke up for Nina.
Her name was Nina Courtepatte and she will always be 13 years old.
HRG
Forgive the re-posting of an old rant, babies, but as some of you are well aware, there was something about this case that hit this groovy old heart, and hard. For whatever reason, seeing Nina's picture for the first time struck me with an almost maternal pain. I can't explain it. Some things just stick with you.
Justice June Ross deserves an award! In overturning the manslaughter conviction which would've seen Stephanie Bird eligible for day parole this year, she instead sentenced her to life with absolutely no chance of parole for ten years. She has ten more years of incarceration to work in turning her life around. Does rehabilitation really work? Time will tell. But the stigma will follow her to the end of her life and beyond. She will always be regarded with suspicion and mistrust. She will always be isolated and shunned. If old traditions were still truly practiced, she would be shamed and cast out. Instead she will be locked away. At last someone had the balls to hold this girl accountable for her actions. Somebody finally spoke up for Nina.
Her name was Nina Courtepatte and she will always be 13 years old.
HRG
Sunday, May 04, 2008/Her Name Was Nina (republished)
.........and she was 13 years old.
Three years ago she was lured away from a mall. Sadly, the truth is she wasn't lured away at all. She was chosen by a group of late teens/early twenties. They wanted to kill someone. Anyone. Didn't matter who. So they randomly chose her. They convinced her to go to a bush party with them.
Then they beat, repeatedly raped her in the most horrific of ways, mutilated and then killed her.
Her name was Nina. She was 13 years old.
All but one involved has been sentenced. It's this last one that has my blood boiling.
I hate it when the race card is played. Two sets of rules should absolutely NOT exist! And yet this girl's lawyer seems to have a deck full of them.
Yes. You read it right. Girl. She was 17 at the time, and now her lawyer is arguing that she doesn't deserve federal jail time. Oh sure, she was the one who did the talking to Nina. She was the one who convinced her to go to the "party". She was the one who struck the first blow to Nina's head. With a lead pipe. She held Nina down while she was repeatedly assaulted and tortured. She helped murder her. Then she helped hide the body. And then she helped cover up the crime.
According to her lawyer, here's why she doesn't deserve to go to jail for life:
"Colleen Connolly, argued that the woman's youth and her status as an aboriginal must be considered. The woman is 20 now, but was 17 at the time of the crime. Her aboriginal mother was a drunk. The woman was sexually abused as a young child. Connolly asked for a seven-to-11-year sentence, and that the woman be given as much as double credit for the three years she has already spent in custody."The imposition of a life sentence is rare," Connolly said."
WTF? Since when does someone's race come into play? If a caucasian kid had been involved in Nina's death, there would be screams of racism, it would be made into a hate crime. What fucking difference does the race of the murderer make? Special consideration for being First Nations? Give me a break. What this "young woman" participated in was of her own choice--she has shown no remorse for her actions. That was pointed out by several court appointed psychiatrists. The defence declined to call their own experts to the stand. What does that tell you?
Oh but wait, there's more:
"Connolly has asked the court to impose a permanent publication ban, so that the woman's name will never be known to the public. If the young woman is named, Connolly said that would possibly upset her drug rehabilitation and haunt her wherever she goes. "She is always going to be (the one) who committed the golf course murder who took Nina Courtepatte's life."
Because lord forbid she actually be held RESPONSIBLE for her heinous crime. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to upset her, now would it? No no no no no. It wasn't her fault really. See? Here's the race card. Fifty two of them actually.
I don't give a rat's ass what color her skin is. That remorseless bitch should be locked up for life. None of this Karla Holmoka deal bullshit either. The race card should be burned, the door locked, the key thrown away. Do the crime, do the time.
For the record, Nina was First Nations. What "special considerations" were shown to her?
Her name was Nina. She was 13 years old.
HRG
Three years ago she was lured away from a mall. Sadly, the truth is she wasn't lured away at all. She was chosen by a group of late teens/early twenties. They wanted to kill someone. Anyone. Didn't matter who. So they randomly chose her. They convinced her to go to a bush party with them.
Then they beat, repeatedly raped her in the most horrific of ways, mutilated and then killed her.
Her name was Nina. She was 13 years old.
All but one involved has been sentenced. It's this last one that has my blood boiling.
I hate it when the race card is played. Two sets of rules should absolutely NOT exist! And yet this girl's lawyer seems to have a deck full of them.
Yes. You read it right. Girl. She was 17 at the time, and now her lawyer is arguing that she doesn't deserve federal jail time. Oh sure, she was the one who did the talking to Nina. She was the one who convinced her to go to the "party". She was the one who struck the first blow to Nina's head. With a lead pipe. She held Nina down while she was repeatedly assaulted and tortured. She helped murder her. Then she helped hide the body. And then she helped cover up the crime.
According to her lawyer, here's why she doesn't deserve to go to jail for life:
"Colleen Connolly, argued that the woman's youth and her status as an aboriginal must be considered. The woman is 20 now, but was 17 at the time of the crime. Her aboriginal mother was a drunk. The woman was sexually abused as a young child. Connolly asked for a seven-to-11-year sentence, and that the woman be given as much as double credit for the three years she has already spent in custody."The imposition of a life sentence is rare," Connolly said."
WTF? Since when does someone's race come into play? If a caucasian kid had been involved in Nina's death, there would be screams of racism, it would be made into a hate crime. What fucking difference does the race of the murderer make? Special consideration for being First Nations? Give me a break. What this "young woman" participated in was of her own choice--she has shown no remorse for her actions. That was pointed out by several court appointed psychiatrists. The defence declined to call their own experts to the stand. What does that tell you?
Oh but wait, there's more:
"Connolly has asked the court to impose a permanent publication ban, so that the woman's name will never be known to the public. If the young woman is named, Connolly said that would possibly upset her drug rehabilitation and haunt her wherever she goes. "She is always going to be (the one) who committed the golf course murder who took Nina Courtepatte's life."
Because lord forbid she actually be held RESPONSIBLE for her heinous crime. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to upset her, now would it? No no no no no. It wasn't her fault really. See? Here's the race card. Fifty two of them actually.
I don't give a rat's ass what color her skin is. That remorseless bitch should be locked up for life. None of this Karla Holmoka deal bullshit either. The race card should be burned, the door locked, the key thrown away. Do the crime, do the time.
For the record, Nina was First Nations. What "special considerations" were shown to her?
Her name was Nina. She was 13 years old.
HRG
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Happy 50th Anniversary
Good morning Babies! The sun is shining, the deluge of wet stuff poured on us from above (by what must be very bored angels) has stopped and our safe lives go on. Let's all take a moment to remember those whose entire lives were changed, forever, in thirty seconds. In less time than it takes us to make microwave popcorn, everything they knew was gone. Somehow it makes all of our day to day dramas a little less important, doesn't it?
Today marks what would've been my parent's golden anniversary. Fifty years. I never really understood the dynamic of their marriage. In some ways, that they stayed together until she died is still beyond my comprehension. It wasn't until after she was gone that I came to understand how much my father loved her, despite everything. All those years of being told what a horrible, controlling man he was, yet she stayed. I never understood why. Now I do. Probably better that the whole truth wasn't known until after. There's another secret kept between me and my father. Did you ever see the movie "Same Time, Next Year"? That was her life. My siblings know nothing of the 25+ year affair and never shall. No good can come from the telling.
It helps to know that in the beginning they were so much in love. Their early years, while trying at times, were good ones. We were all wanted and planned children, my early family memories are good ones. It's the good years we'll silently celebrate. At some point today, my father will smell her perfume, if only briefly....
I hope he smiles.
HRG
Today marks what would've been my parent's golden anniversary. Fifty years. I never really understood the dynamic of their marriage. In some ways, that they stayed together until she died is still beyond my comprehension. It wasn't until after she was gone that I came to understand how much my father loved her, despite everything. All those years of being told what a horrible, controlling man he was, yet she stayed. I never understood why. Now I do. Probably better that the whole truth wasn't known until after. There's another secret kept between me and my father. Did you ever see the movie "Same Time, Next Year"? That was her life. My siblings know nothing of the 25+ year affair and never shall. No good can come from the telling.
It helps to know that in the beginning they were so much in love. Their early years, while trying at times, were good ones. We were all wanted and planned children, my early family memories are good ones. It's the good years we'll silently celebrate. At some point today, my father will smell her perfume, if only briefly....
I hope he smiles.
HRG
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Letters I've Written..Never Meaning To Send
Did we all survive our lack of New Year's parties everyone? Did you remember to leave your baggage somewhere it would never be found? Hey, if you're looking for fun, leave it at the airport, that'll really mess security up, won't it? Maybe it'll stop the airport authority from demanding that little old ladies unzip their trousers. Pervert.
But I digress....
The year is off to a good start for HRG. As promised, forgiveness was given at midnite and when these groovy eyes opened on New Year's Day, when the foggies cleared after that oh-so-important first cup of Buckstars French roast (which was once loudly declared to be tasteless, despite the special trip and $17 lb. cost, and it was preferred it not be made in the "good" coffeemaker, a comment that cut deep.....) my first thought wasn't a bad one. TCB promised he'd let it all go, cut all contact and my spidey sense tells me he's being truthful.
Waking filled with hope and happiness for the first time in months and months felt so wonderful. Life, while still filled with some uncertainty, feels good and right again. It feels relaxed with TCB, like it used to--hell, at the end of last rehearsal, when we were tearing down, a song that means something to us started playing. We had a moment. We slow danced and for that minute, it felt like there was no one else there. Until someone coughed that embarrassed "hey, it's not fun watching you 'coz we know you" cough that is. It felt like this heart would explode. Fear and Doubt ran for cover, Hope threw open the windows to allow the sunshine and fresh air in again. It even feels different walking into our cute little bungalow. Staying was the right choice. I know TCB will be more cautious about his choices from now on. Onward we go. Together.
This past Sunday we gathered again, musicians and friends, to bid farewell to a man who led an interesting and ultimately extraordinary life. No acronyms today my babies, Edward 'Tat' Tatoosh was a teacher of language and life. Coming from extremely rough beginnings in an extremely tough mill town, he experienced it all. Good and Bad. Time in prison as a young man, alcoholism, drug addiction, horrifying abuse at every turn could have had him homeless and dead a long time ago. Instead, he turned it around. He became a counsellor, a mentor, an inspiration to the youth he tried so hard to reach. Heavily involved in land claims issues at the federal level, he was also a huge proponent of taking responsibility, he did not suffer fools gladly, and had no time to play what he called the "Blame Game".
Tat was also a great Bluesman and that is how we met. At a jam. Fifteen years ago. Paul introduced us. I had to take a step backward--he radiated a power that I can't explain. His colors were bright and flashing, yet at the same time there was an aura of calmness about him. You all know my trust issues run deep, yet at that moment I'd have turned my life over to him. He was kind and you just knew you'd always be safe with him. His face heavily wrinkled with the stories of time, his eyes all seeing, sparkling with mischievous wit....in short, one of the kindest men I've ever met. The Dream Catcher he made for me still hangs over my side of the bed. He helped open my eyes to so many things, helped me learn to not be afraid of what I am, instead to learn my craft and how to handle the dreams and spidey sense moments. I'm still learning, now I have a guide to help. For that, I am eternally grateful.
I thank The Fates for the honor and privilege of having been called his friend.
Humbly,
HRG
But I digress....
The year is off to a good start for HRG. As promised, forgiveness was given at midnite and when these groovy eyes opened on New Year's Day, when the foggies cleared after that oh-so-important first cup of Buckstars French roast (which was once loudly declared to be tasteless, despite the special trip and $17 lb. cost, and it was preferred it not be made in the "good" coffeemaker, a comment that cut deep.....) my first thought wasn't a bad one. TCB promised he'd let it all go, cut all contact and my spidey sense tells me he's being truthful.
Waking filled with hope and happiness for the first time in months and months felt so wonderful. Life, while still filled with some uncertainty, feels good and right again. It feels relaxed with TCB, like it used to--hell, at the end of last rehearsal, when we were tearing down, a song that means something to us started playing. We had a moment. We slow danced and for that minute, it felt like there was no one else there. Until someone coughed that embarrassed "hey, it's not fun watching you 'coz we know you" cough that is. It felt like this heart would explode. Fear and Doubt ran for cover, Hope threw open the windows to allow the sunshine and fresh air in again. It even feels different walking into our cute little bungalow. Staying was the right choice. I know TCB will be more cautious about his choices from now on. Onward we go. Together.
This past Sunday we gathered again, musicians and friends, to bid farewell to a man who led an interesting and ultimately extraordinary life. No acronyms today my babies, Edward 'Tat' Tatoosh was a teacher of language and life. Coming from extremely rough beginnings in an extremely tough mill town, he experienced it all. Good and Bad. Time in prison as a young man, alcoholism, drug addiction, horrifying abuse at every turn could have had him homeless and dead a long time ago. Instead, he turned it around. He became a counsellor, a mentor, an inspiration to the youth he tried so hard to reach. Heavily involved in land claims issues at the federal level, he was also a huge proponent of taking responsibility, he did not suffer fools gladly, and had no time to play what he called the "Blame Game".
Tat was also a great Bluesman and that is how we met. At a jam. Fifteen years ago. Paul introduced us. I had to take a step backward--he radiated a power that I can't explain. His colors were bright and flashing, yet at the same time there was an aura of calmness about him. You all know my trust issues run deep, yet at that moment I'd have turned my life over to him. He was kind and you just knew you'd always be safe with him. His face heavily wrinkled with the stories of time, his eyes all seeing, sparkling with mischievous wit....in short, one of the kindest men I've ever met. The Dream Catcher he made for me still hangs over my side of the bed. He helped open my eyes to so many things, helped me learn to not be afraid of what I am, instead to learn my craft and how to handle the dreams and spidey sense moments. I'm still learning, now I have a guide to help. For that, I am eternally grateful.
I thank The Fates for the honor and privilege of having been called his friend.
Humbly,
HRG
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