Mojo: indie rock reporter

LIVE!

NUDE!

GIRLS!

I'm surrounded by an adult bookstore, a "Thai Massage" parlour that I'm almost certain specializes in more than just back rubs, scantily-clad women standing in doorways to places with names like "Twilight" and "Night Cap", and more neon signs than I've ever seen in my entire life.  I've been in Soho for about 11 seconds and I'm about to receive my first proposition.

"Yo mon, whatchu need?  I got it,"

"No, thanks I'm fine,"

"C'mon I gots it all, make you a gud deel,"

"Sorry, I'm working."

This isn't a lie just to get out of a drug deal with a toothless man.  I'm actually here to write a review for a band.  Soho isn't only a playground for illicit activity, it is also a haven for the arts.  For 200 years Soho was the center of the sex industry in London but in the 1980's a massive transformation began and although adult entertainment still thrives here, it is also home to many live music venues and theatres.  It's interesting how the two worlds coexist.  Just down the street from "Agent Provacateur" is The Apollo, where a stage version of the film Rain Man is about to premiere starring Josh Hartnett in the role of Charlie Babbit.

A woman is standing in front of the big Rain Man posters on the theatre walls.  She seems overcome with excitement and starts to ask every passerby if they can help her identify the handsome famous guy on the poster.  Clearly, she has failed to see the big, bold, blue letters spelling out J-O-S-H H-A-R-T-N-E-T-T at the top of the advertisement.  Apparently, everyone else has too, because no one is able to help her unmask the Hollywood heartthrob.  I tap her on the shoulder and suggest, "I believe that's Josh Hartnett,".  She is ecstatic!  She grabs my arms and starts jumping up and down screaming, "I knew it!  Ohhhhhh Josh Hartnett!", as if I were him and she was a 14 year old subscriber to Tiger Beat magazine.

****

I enter Madame Jojo's, the music hall where Coppers for Karma is performing tonight.  With me is an old friend named Nicholas Sandwich.  Nick and I were friends in high school but haven't seen each other in about 5 years.  He's been living in London for about a year now working as an architect.  Tomorrow, he is switching careers and becoming a bicycle messenger, but that's another story...

Madame Jojo's is a beauty.  It resembles an old burlesque house but has modern charm and character.  I take a seat with my 7-dollar bottle of Stella Artois and pull out my notepad.  Two young ladies approach the table for four Nick and I are seated at and ask if the other two seats are taken.  Nick offers them the chairs and they immediately take note of my note taking.  

"What are you writing?" asks the girl who, I later find out, is named Olga.

"I'm writing a review of the show tonight," I answer.

"Do you work for a magazine or something?"

"Actually, the band asked me to do it."  This is true, but I've made it sound like I'm a star reporter here at the request of the group.

"Really?  Can you introduce me to the band?!" Olga requests, excitedly.

"Yeah, absolutely," I say, although I've only met the bass player Andy, and just briefly before he took the stage.  She doesn't need to know that.

As promised by lead singer Richard when he first took the microphone, Coppers for Karma rocked our socks off.  They played some really cool Sublime-esque ska/funk music that kept the crowd bouncing all night.  I was really impressed by not only their musicianship, but also their showmanship; these guys know how to entertain.  Check them out at www.coppersforkarma.com

After the show, Richard and Andy, along with their drummer Wojciech, came out to visit with the crowd.  Since I am a man of my word, I introduced Olga to the boys and talked to some of the other fans about the band.  I had a really nice conversation with a girl from France who complimented me on my French speaking skills (although I think she may have just been being polite).  Just as I was checking the time to make sure I wouldn't miss the last train home, Andy threw his arm around my neck and said, "Mate, you're coming to the after party back at our flat, yeah?"  

****

It's 7am.  I haven't slept yet.  There are bodies everywhere.

It was a true rock n' roll party.  Beers, shots, drugs, nudity, livestock... Ok, so maybe I didn't actually see any farm animals, but I also didn't go into all the rooms.  

When Nick and I arrived at the party, there were people everywhere.  Drinks were being poured, joints were being rolled and Rich was just getting out the guitar.  They played a few of their own hits at the request of some female partygoers and also performed a lot of covers.  We had just seen these guys rock out in front of a sold out crowd, and now we were sitting in a circle in their living room as they performed acoustically with stunning harmonies.  It was like being at our own personal MTV Unplugged session.  On a few occasions Nick and I just looked at each other, amazed at where we had found ourselves tonight.  We sang and we talked, we talked and we sang.  I met people from Australia, America, Canada and all over the United Kingdom.  I doubled the amount of telephone numbers stored in my mobile phone in one night.  Since I've been in the UK I've been reconnecting with old friends from my year with Disney.  Tonight, I finally feel like I've made some new friends.

As morning drew near, there were only a handful of us still conscious.  Rich decided to improvise a song to commemorate the night.  An amazing, rock and roll night.

GB Radio

They say certain smells can take you back to another time in your life.  For example, you may walk by a bakery, smell fresh cinnamon rolls and immediately be reminded of your grandmother.  The same can obviously be said about music.  We often attach certain songs to a specific time, place, moment or person.  It seems that everywhere I go I hear the songs that remind me of Grand Bend.  This is just from today:

The Hollys- Bus Stop (Andy)

OneRepublic- Apologize (Greg)

Regina Spektor- Fidelity (Annie)

Sara Bareilles- Love Song (Heidi)

Jason Mraz- I'm Yours (Me?)

Daft Punk- One More Time (Greg, EVERYONE)

The soundtrack of my summer follows me everywhere.

I'm open for experiences!

I answered a couple of ads the other day.

The first ad was from a band that has recently been signed to a record label here in the UK and is about to embark on a UK university tour.  They are looking for someone to review their show this Wednesday for their press packet.  The gig is at the world famous Madame Jojo's in Soho.  I responded with some examples of my writing.  They said they liked my style, and Canadians in general, and offered me the job!

The second ad was from a band looking for a lead singer.  Now, I'm no Dean Martin but I can carry a tune okay.  This summer, I fulfilled a lifelong dream by performing on stage regularly at Jam Nite in Grand Bend, Ontario (thank you, Greg Gallello!).  Being up in front of a huge crowd that is singing and dancing along with you is an incredible rush.  The band seemed to feel very positively about my interest and we're going to take it from there.

I also made a request of my own.

I wrote to Brondesbury College for Boys.  Brondesbury College is an independent Muslim secondary school in London, England that was established by Yusuf Islam (formerly Cat Stevens).  I am an enormous fan of Yusuf Islam's music (both as Cat and Yusuf) and I'm also a huge admirer of his tireless efforts to bring peace and understanding to people of all faiths and to bridge gaps between people of the world.  I wrote to the school to request a tour and someone to speak to.  I've never visited a Muslim school and I think it would be a fantastic and enriching experience.  I hope they accept my request.

Do You Believe in Coincidences?

Today, I met a girl and I found out that she likes Chuck Klosterman and debating.  I have read two of Klosterman's books:

#1- Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, which I thoroughly enjoyed. 

#2- Killing Yourself to Live, the most self-indulgent vanity project I have ever read.  

So, it was clear what I had to do next:  I asked her if she would like to debate Chuck Klosterman.

It turned out, she had only read two of his books as well.  

#1- Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, which she thoroughly enjoyed.

#2- Chuck Klosterman IV, which she also loved.

Since we agreed on "Sex, Drugs..." and hadn't read the same second book, there wasn't much to debate.

Later on in the day I went for a walk down High Street.  Bought myself a smoothie (you know I love smoothies), and headed to a local bookstore (you know I love books!).  I fumbled around a clearance bin where everything was priced at 1 pound.  There was clearly nothing of literary value in the bin, which, I imagine, is why they cost a pound.  I moved on and browsed my favourite sections- travel, classics, languages.

On my current fixed budget I decided it wasn't the best time to indulge, but as I began to leave the store I passed the clearance bin once again and found myself slowing down.  I moved a couple of books around and uncovered one that really caught my eye.  There was a big picture of a beer on the cover- it was a book about home brewing.  But what was underneath was even more interesting; Chuck Klosterman IV.

I dug a one-pound coin out of my pocket.

Brighton and Back

Riding the train back from Brighton, I can hardly keep my eyes open.

I arrived in Brighton the day before at precisely 6:30pm.  Will greeted me at the turnstile.  At 6:35 we were in Grand Central, a pub, sipping back a couple of pints of fresh, cold joy.  At approximately 4am we stumbled our way to a diner, finishing off a 9.5 hour pub crawl with hashbrowns and toast.

I struggled to extend the futon at Will's brother's flat.  I was waging a battle against poor craftsmanship and inebriation.  Both worthy adversaries, however, in the end I was victorious and able to stretch out across the foam-filled mattress.  Will passed out in a big, round chair.

The next day began as a challenge.  I wanted to make the most of my time in Brighton, but as a consequence of the previous night's behaviour, I didn't even want to sit up straight.  Eventually, I managed to mobilize and made my way to the street.  My eyes burned at first contact with the sun's rays.  I felt like I had perhaps become part vampire overnight.

Will and I walked the streets of Brighton for about 4 hours.  We explored the incredible indie shops, the second-hand bookstores, the anarchist cafe, and the coolest smoothie making place I've found since being in the UK.  I fell in love with the unique qualities of Brighton and it's citizens.

The train ride home was punishment.  There were no seats available, so I found myself jammed into the standing area with the other unlucky passengers.  To my left was a young middle-eastern man listening to Lupe Fiasco through his headphones so loudly, I can't believe he didn't rupture an ear drum.  To my right, was something even more shocking:

A young woman was deeply involved in a conversation on her mobile phone.  A 40-something year-old man stood next to her and kept responding to what she was saying over the phone:  

"I think everything will be just fine, he just needs to use some common sense," she would say.

"I've always said that," the man would utter, to no one in particular.  "Common sense is a good thing to use."

"I'll be back in about an hour.  I'll give you a call and we'll go from there," she said.

"Good idea!" the man responded, the tone of his voice reeking of sarcasm.

The lady would make another point.

"Hmph," he would laugh.  "Shocking."

I was beside myself!  I couldn't tell if the guy was mentally ill, or just the biggest asshole in all of England.  For at least 20 minutes he made remarks under his breath directed towards the woman on the phone.  She ignored them all.  Then, in the strangest twist of all, we reached a stop and in the kindest, politest voice, with no trace of sarcasm, the man asked her, "Could you please press the open-door button, love."

I have a feeling this isn't the strangest encounter that I'll have aboard the trains of London.

The Day I Failed at Everything... almost.

I waited around all day for my train tickets to be delivered.  Finally, at about 3pm I called First Great Western to see what the deal was.

"Hi there.  I'm taking the train to Brighton tomorrow, and my tickets haven't arrived yet."

The woman on the phone was a complete disaster.  Through her broken English she asked if I could pick them up at the station before I catch the train.  That was perfectly acceptable.  Then she told me that a delivery driver had my tickets and I would have to wait around for a few more hours and then call back if they didn't arrive by 6.  This was far less acceptable because I had other things to do and had already waited around the house all day yesterday for these tickets.  Just before ending the call, she changed her mind again and said that the tickets were already delivered today and no one answered the door.

That's impossible.  Jamie and I have both been home all day.  I have been sitting on the couch that is literally right next to the front door since about 9am.  I checked the mail box again and confirmed that there was no, "While you were out," or "Missed delivery" notice card.  But then, crumbled down in the far corner of the box was a little white card with the time 9:01am scribbled on it.

Son of a bitch.

At least I was no longer under house arrest, so I headed into Staines to take care of my 'To Do' list.  I tried to get a bank account setup.  Not only do I not have the proper documents to open an account, but I have almost no way of obtaining them.

I proceeded to JobCentrePlus to apply for a National Insurance Number so that I can legally work in the UK.  I had been directed to JobCentrePlus by the visa issuing office.  They told me that JobCentrePlus was where to go to apply.  Only it's not.  I went all the way over there just so they could give me a phone number for another office that actually accepts the applications.

I walked several more kilometres to the Royal Mail general delivery office.  They closed at 2pm.

I decided to take a new route back to Lee's- always up for even the smallest adventure!  I got lost.  Normally, thats not a problem for me.  I quite like getting lost.  But I really had to piss and I'm not familiar with Britain's public urination laws.  I'd hate to be deported over pee.

I called Lee.

"Lee, I'm lost."

"Well, where are you?"

"I don't know Lee.  That's kind of the definition of 'lost'."

I hung up the phone.

Eventually, I found my way out of the woods (literally and metaphorically... I was lost in a forest for a while).  I reviewed all of the things I had been unsuccessful at today and had a big smile on my face.  It's kind of exciting when nothing goes right.

"But," I thought to myself.  "I'll be damned if I'm not going to succeed at something today!"

So, I bought some beer.

Oslo: City of Love- Chapter III

The next morning I was alone in the garden house when there was a light knock at the door.  Marie entered and sat next to me.  For a brief moment I panicked.  What if she didn't recall what happened last night?  What if she did recall everything and thought it was a mistake!  I took her hand and held my breath.  She grabbed it tighter and I exhaled with joy and relief.   Then I leaned in and kissed her gently.  

Lee, Marie and I spent the day at Vigeland Sculpture Park.  Home to 212 sculptures of bronze and granite by Gustav Vigeland (take that Trebek!).  All of them, naked.  In a case of life imitating art, Lee and I posed next to several of the statues to the delight of the other park visitors (we did, however, keep our clothes on).

  

It was a beautiful day.  It was perfect.  It was more than that; it was movie perfect.  You know how in movies when the two main characters finally realize they're in love, everything changes?  Clouds part, sun shines, birds sing etc.  Well, that shit happens in real life!  The skies had been grey since we arrived in Norway, but today, like some sort of heavenly acknowledgement of how we felt, the clouds separated and blue skies were above. The universe was happy for me.  Here I was, in a  park full of the greenest grasses, roses of every colour, hundreds of naked people (in statue form), and the most beautiful girl in the world.

Marie was looking at me differently today.  Actually, she was probably looking at me exactly the same as she always had, but I saw it differently.  She has the most amazing eyes, I've always thought so.  They are so unique.  If the colour of her eyes could be found in a box of Crayolas the label would say 'Marie'.  Blue-silver with little flecks of red and gold.  Today, I could feel her eyes.  Like lightning.  The perfect balance of beauty and power; and when she looks at me, I mean really looks at me, it's like being struck by lightning.  I feel so alive when she looks into my eyes.  Yes, I'm aware of how cheesy that sounds, but I'm serious!  If I ever suffer from cardiac arrest, rather than hooking me up to a defibrillator just lock me into a staring contest with Marie.

As the day progressed, I started to realize what was coming.  The inevitable.  The goodbye.  

That evening, Marie drove us to the bus stop.  It is incredibly difficult to say goodbye to someone you've waited 5 years for.  But fate brought us back together once.  I have to trust that fate will bring us back together again.  And if not, I can only look back on those three days with absolute happiness, because for a brief moment in time, the girl of my dreams became a reality.

And then I held her in my arms one last time.  After a long embrace I gave her a kiss on the cheek and we said goodbye.  Watching her drive off I could feel a piece of me leaving with her.

THE END

Oslo: City of Love- Chapter II

Our first stop was Marie's house.  To drop off our bags and check out our new digs for the next two nights.  Lee and I would be staying in the Garden House.  That's right, the Garden House! Her family has an additional house in their garden.  It's an adorable little red cottage that appears to be right out of a Norwegian fairy tale.  The door is only about four feet tall and locks with one of those big old-fashioned keys that looks like it's more suited to open a book of magic spells or the door to a secret world.

It doesn't take us long to get settled and then we're off to the city to meet Hildegard!  Hildegard is another Disney alumni like the rest of us, and she completes our foursome.  We meet her at a big fountain in Oslo's city center that reminds me of a peacock's feathers.  After a quick lunch we begin to take in the sights.  First stop is the Royal Palace; home of King Harald and Queen Sonja.  On our way there, we pass a marching band.  The girls can offer no explanation as to why there is a marching band parading through the streets today, so we can only assume that they have been assembled to welcome me and Lee to their country.  Humbly, I say 'thank you' as they pass, although this was quite unnecessary.  Up next is the Nobel Peace Center.  This is a big one for me; I love peace.  Then we spend time exploring Akershus Fortress, overlooking the fjords, and the brand new, stunning, Oslo Opera House.

The attractions of Oslo were fantastic, but my favourite moments of the day were the little conversations that I had with the girls as we traveled from place to place.  We often walked in pairs.  Hildegard and I would be in front with Lee and Marie a few yards behind.  Then, in an act of flawless choreography we would switch and I'd find myself next to Marie.

The girls prepared dinner for us that evening- a secret recipe of Marie's design.  This was definitely the highlight of the day.  A unique and delicious meal, shared by friends long separated, over great conversation.  This was also when Marie and I started to steal little moments of intimacy; a romantic glance here, a gentle touch there, a quick holding of hands here and there.  I couldn't believe it.  This is exactly how I had imagined it going in my head, countless times over the last few weeks.  But was it really happening?!  Was it possible that all of the years and all of the miles apart hadn't changed a thing?  Or was it a dream that I would soon be waking up from?

And then I woke up...  but I was still in Norway.  In the Garden House.  Yesterday was real!  And Marie was next door, inside the main house.  I joined her for breakfast and we planned Day 2.  This included a trip up to Holmenkollen Ski Jump, the pride of the 1952 Winter Olympic Games, followed by hot chocolate at a gorgeous log-cabin cafe overlooking all of Oslo, and a tour of the Viking Ship Museum.  It was another perfect day.

Lee and I decided to return the favour and cook for the ladies that night.  As we fumbled around the kitchen, Hildegard and Marie dipped into the wine.  Once Lee and I had things under culinary control I cracked open my first Tuborg of the night (it's a beer) and let the festivities begin.  Over dinner and drinks the four of us reminisced about our adventures in Florida.  We told embarrassing stories that involved people who weren't there to defend themselves.  Lee and Hildegard had a chocolate orgasm.

It was almost time to go out.  To a student bar at University of Oslo where Hildegard studies law.  A few more photographs, a few more shots of Boris Jelzin vodka (no, seriously), and we were off.  This was my first taste of Norwegian night life and I liked it it.  The bar was beautiful, the people were friendly, the dancing was odd.  We found a table and started ordering pints.  Now, I don't need to school anyone on the affects of alcohol, but just keep in mind that by this point some of us may have had our inhibitions lowered and our confidence increased.

Lee and I were dancing machines!!!  We had seen enough Euro-moves and decided to show these Norwegian fellas how things are done.  No one came near us, clearly intimidated by the noise and/or funk we were bringing.  I didn't want to embarrass these guys in their own country, so I took a bow and rejoined Marie at the table.  We started to talk about our feelings.  Likely, due to the same enhanced state that had caused me to believe I was the hybrid offspring of Usher and that old guy from the Six Flags commercials only minutes ago.  We spoke of the past, the present and the future.  And 5 years to the month later, we kissed.  

Oslo: City of Love- Chapter I

And then I held her in my arms one last time.  

After a long embrace I gave her a kiss on the cheek and we said goodbye.  Watching her drive off I could feel a piece of me leaving with her..............

Intense, eh?  I know!  It was an intense three days in Norway.  Yes, thats right, I was in Norway.  I guess I'd better back it up a little: 

I have traveled to Norway to see a girl.  The girl.  Marie.  Five years ago, in central Florida, we met.  It was my first orientation at Walt Disney World.  A large group of young adults from around the world had gathered in a conference room at Disney University.  Excitement was in all of our eyes (and maybe a little anxiety in some).  I didn't know anyone but I felt right at home.  Working for Disney was my dream, and this was the beginning of that dream.  I took a seat at a round table on one side of the room.  I introduced myself to the couple of people already seated and then scanned the rest of the room with my heart beating rapidly.  And then it stopped.  For a split second my heart stopped, because there she was.  On the far side of the room stood the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  I don't know what was brighter, her eyes or her smile (let's just say, had the power suddenly gone out we would have been just fine).  She was talking with a small group of people.  I imagined her saying something like, "Do you guys see that Canadian boy over there?  Isn't he cute?  I must have him!"  It was a reasonable assumption, only she didn't even know I existed yet.

The seminar began and the administrator started the agenda.  I listened intently, but all I wanted to do was burst out of my seat and shout, "Hi!  Young lady!  Yes, you!  I'm Jozef."  But I was patient, and when the first coffee break arrived she walked over to the side of the room and it was there that I met her.  I learned that her name is Marie and she is Norwegian.  I was so overwhelmed I can only hope that I pronounced my own name correctly.

And so, on the very first day I already had my very first Disney crush.  We became friends and hung out a few times within the first couple of weeks.  And one night, on the couch in her apartment, we kissed.  I'm sorry, that's not nearly enough excitement.... WE KISSED!!!  Now, I was 19 years old at the time, and my list of kissing partners was quite short (some might say embarrassing) but I had never, EVER felt a kiss like this.  I've never really been the guy who gets the girl, so I couldn't believe this was happening to me.  This really was a magical place where dreams come true!  Only, that was the peak of my romantic relationship with Marie.  One single kiss, never to be repeated.

Our friendship also hit some rocky ground and when I left Florida I wasn't sure if I would ever see her again.  We fell out of touch.  She was out of sight, but not out of mind.  Eventually, we regained contact through e-mail.  Then MSN.  Facebook and Skype to follow.  Over the years we started to chat more and more.  As the frequency of our conversations increased so did the intensity.  We shared confessions and apologies.  We spoke of the shared wish that we would one day see each other again.  Worlds apart, we were closer than ever.

A couple of months ago, as I was preparing to move to the United Kingdom at the end of the summer, Marie was preparing to move to Spain in the fall.  She insisted that I come visit her in Madrid.  I had to think about this carefully;  would I like to go visit the girl who I've been thinking about for five years in one of the most beautiful and romantic cities in the world?  Yes, yes I would.  I agreed and started casually looking at flights from London to Madrid.  While I was searching I came across an incredible deal from London to Oslo.  I sent Marie an instant message letting her know and asking if I could come and see her in September in Oslo or if I should just wait until November and meet her in Spain.  "OSLO!!!!  Come to Oslo!!!"  She was so excited to be the one to show me her country for the first time.  She's so cute when she gets excited.

September 10th, 2oo8.  I stepped off the plane and let out a deep exhale.  I can see my breath!  I'm in Norway!  Lee and I have to take a bus from the airport to Lysaker where Marie is picking us up.  The bus driver speaks over the P.A. system and announces the stops.  He says, "Lysaker 1:25".  1:25!!!  What does he mean, 1:25!?!  It's just past 10am!  We thought the bus ride was going to take about 2 hours or less, and now we're being told that we've just begun a 3-hour cross-country tour.  I text Marie to let her know it's still going to be a few hours before we meet again.  At about 11:45 the driver calls, "Lysaker" over the speaker.  WHAT!  Already?  But he said 1:25!  Oh no.  I told Marie 1:25!  Apparently, I've just had my first "lost in translation" moment.  When the driver said "One twenty-five," he must have meant the journey was going to take an hour and twenty-five minutes!  I'll have to call Marie and tell her the mistake I made.  I step off the bus and reach for my mobile phone.  Before I can grab it my eyes lock in to hers.  Marie is standing right in front of me!  Out of pure instinct I wrap my arms around her.  I'm shocked.  Absolutely shocked!  Lee has to retrieve my bag from under the coach because there is no way I'm letting go before that bus takes off.

The Stag

Wind Street.  As in, “The Long and Winding Road”, not as in, “Dust in the Wind”.  Wind Street is a marvelous stretch of road in Swansea that is almost nothing but pubs and clubs.  The night begins as Jamie and I walk into Bank Statement.  Formerly a bank (ahhhh, now you get it), this bar features 20-foot ceilings with beautiful molding, seemingly of the baroque period.  However it doesn’t take long for my eyes to be diverted from the molding to another subject of beauty:  Welsh girls!

We make our way over to where Jamie’s Best Man, Aled, is standing.  We grab a drink and chat it up with a few more of Jamie’s mates.  The guys are all standing next to a table with their jackets hanging on the edge.  I hop onto one of the barstools at the table and reach across towards the two gentlemen sitting opposite me.

“Hey guys, I’m Jozef,” I say.

They shake my hand, somewhat reluctantly and offer their names.

“Hmmm,” I think to myself, “I hope Jamie’s friends aren’t all like this.”

The rest of the guys grab their drinks and we decide to head over to a cozy, semi-circle shaped booth that just opened up.  We take a seat, I glance over to our former meeting spot and notice that the two guys I just met are still sitting there.  I lean over to Jamie’s friend Charlie and ask why they haven’t followed.

“They’re not with us,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I ask, as the realization of my error sweeps over me.

“I’ve never seen them before in my life,” Charlie replies.

Well, that’s just perfect.  5 minutes in a bar in Swansea and already I’m hitting on other dudes. :)

By this point, Jamie is wearing a kilt.  But no ordinary kilt.  Underneath the fuzzy sporran (the man-purse that hangs in the front) is a big, foam cock.  I’ve never been to a stag before, but I’m already excited at the direction this night is taking and looking forward to the shenanigans that are sure to follow.  One of those shenanigans has come in the form of Neil:  Neil stands out a little from the rest of us.  He’s in his fifties, and the rest of us are in our twenties.  We have ten fingers, Neil has nine and a half.

The reason for Neil’s semi-appendage was never made known to me, but I was immediately informed of the traditional ritual of “Sucking the Stub”.  Like a right of passage, all men before me have placed the incomplete digit into their mouths and treated it like a pacifier.  I’m still on my first beer and quite unenthusiastic about the idea.  But I know that my 10th beer is only so far away, and so is Neil’s stub.

We change locations and I'm no longer in the upper-class setting of Bank Statement, but in the drum and bass pumping, lights flashing atmosphere of Idols.  Off in the corner, on a raised platform is an antique dentist chair.  Banners hang all around with the slogan, "Dare the Chair".  I never refuse a dare, but it's Jamie's night and we throw his cuddly ass up there.  A cute brunette with the flattest stomach I have ever seen is on duty and she settles Jamie in.  Some dude in an Idols uniform tilts the chair back and the girl starts pouring two bottles of liquor into Jamie's mouth.  They kick the chair up and start spinning my friend around and around.  Bringing the chair to a halt, the male employee pulls him back again and the shooter girl begins to bottle feed Jamie like a newborn.  Resume spinning!!!

Jamie staggers down the steps to a crowd of cheers!  I take my place to go up next, but the two staff members are examining the chair from all angles.  Soon, tools are retrieved and it's clear to everyone that not only did Jamie dare the chair, he beat the chair!

Enter Carrie; a young Welsh girl with a short bob of sun-blonde hair.  She draws me in with her eyes.  Most notably, because she is wearing a pair of novelty cats-eye glasses with pink feathers that say "Sex Bomb" across the front.  She digs my accent and I dig her everything.  We enjoy minutes of flirtatious laughter and gentle elbow touching when Jamie comes over to tell me we're moving on to the next pub.  As I'm torn away from my fair-haired femme fatale our eyes meet one last time and without words we say to each other that if it's meant to be, we'll see one another again some day.

The rest of the night is a drunken haze of beer, shots, Liam McPoyle, rain and curry.  A taxicab delivers us home and brings Jamie's last glorious night of singledom to a close.

And yes, I did suck the stub... salty.

Croeso i Abertawe

September 2, 2008

4:45pm

I step down from the train and on to the platform.  "Croeso i Abertawe," the sign reads: "Welcome to Swansea"!

4:51pm

"CHEERS!"  Jamie and I touch glasses and I take a big swig of my first Welsh beer.  Sitting across the table from my old mate is almost surreal.  We've talked about the day we would once again chat over a brew for so long.  But even as long as it has been, we haven't lost a step.  The pints and the stories start to flow.

I've come to Swansea to see Jamie and Sarah be married.  By about the third beer, the future Mrs. Morris joins us and the reminiscing continues.  We talk about the "good ol' days" in Florida and the good ones to come.  I can't stop smiling.  They say when you fall in love you just know.  Well, I've never been in love but I'd say it's equally true that when you know two people who are in love you can just tell.  Looking at these two from across the table I am so thrilled to be in the presence of true love.

After downing several more glasses, we head to their home and the real drinking begins.  Jamie retrieves two tall cans of Carling from the kitchen for us and a glass of wine for Sarah.  Every few minutes, it seems, Jamie is returning from the kitchen with two fresh cans.  It doesn't take long for the guitar to come out and a heartfelt rendition of "Stand by Me" is performed by the burly Welshman.

I feel very croeso in Abertawe.

The Day I Raced the World

31.08.2008

Lee and I slept in today. Had some cereal; Special K Oats & Honey (because they don't have Vector in the UK!!!!! Grrrrr...). Got organized and headed to the train station with Lee and his housemate Paul. My first time on the train! A beautiful blue and yellow train with comfortable crimson seats. Along the route into London we passed several interesting sights including MI:6 Headquarters (think James Bond). Every inch of the premises monitored by dozens of surveillance cameras. Is that a challenge?

We arrived at Waterloo Station and switched to a tube (subway). The tube was a little dirtier, hotter and more smelly than the train but still cleaner, cooler and less smelly than any LTC bus I've ever been on (you know what I'm talking about, London, Ontario friends). We exited at Leicester Square and resurfaced. We're here to meet Adam, the young man I shared a bedroom with while working at Walt Disney World. The young man who has an unhealthy obsession with Indiana Jones. The young man who peed in our closet.

It's been more than four years since I've seen the bloke. Adam chose the Odeon Cinema as the meeting place. As we waited for him outside, Lee noticed that we were standing on something quite appropos- a plaque of Walt Disney's signature! Hows that for a little Disney magic!? As we wait, my head keeps turning as I try to take in all the sights and sounds of Central London. I feel energized. Then, in the distance I see the statuesque 6'2" frame and confident stride that could only belong to one man. I couldn't help but shout, "MULLET!!" (his old nickname in Florida) and give my long lost roommate a hug.

Lee, Adam and I caught up over lunch and then headed back to the tubes. It's my first full day in the UK and I'm about to make a memory that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Nike+ has organized the first ever global race.

The Nike+
Human Race
10km

25 cities around the world. 1 million runners.

Proceeds going to LIVESTRONG, The World Wildlife Fund and The United Nations Refugee Fund ninemillion.org (thats the one I chose).

The London race starts and finishes at the world famous Wembley Stadium: Where Queen performed their famous concert in '86. Where Live Aid was held. Where champions play.

We arrive at the stadium and it's quite a sight. With all of the runners walking into Wembley wearing their Nike+ issued red race shirts it looks like an army of red ants returning to their mound. Lee and Paul head to the spectator area, Adam and I make our way down to the pitch. This is also Adam's first time to Wembley and you can see the pure joy on his face. Adam is a big footballer (thats soccer, for my friends back in North America) and to be standing where the likes of Wayne Rooney, Rio Ferdinand and David Beckham have all stood is a total honour for him.

Before the race begins, the arena gets fired up to live performances by Pendulum (incredible!) and Moby (incredibly awful!). British icon and Women's 10km world record holder Paula Radcliffe blows the air horn and we're off! With our iPods on, Adam and I look each other in the eye, exchange a final high-five and dash through the Wembley tunnel, out to the streets of London. I, to the motivational beat of "Rocky Fly Now" and Adam is bounding to "Ayo Technology" by 50 Cent and Justin Timberlake (Adam was always a little funny).

47 minutes and 29 seconds later I sprint back into Wembley and across the finish line to "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen. A fitting way to finish the race, I think.

I will never forget The Day I Raced the World.