Category: Music

Dearly beloved…

If someone asked you if you wanted to go to a concert put on by a guy in his mid-50s, I don’t think you’d quite be expecting what we experienced on Saturday. Glitter, spandex, strutting, gospel, wailing guitars, high heels, and, naturally, many references to purple.

Welcome 2 Canada, indeed, Prince.

stage, Prince concertAndrew, Shawna, Melissa, myself, and Sherry (whose bucket list this concert was on) went to the second Toronto show this weekend, and it did not disappoint. It was a good sign when he started things up with Purple Rain. And proceeded to rock through a bunch of hits, a few covers (songs he wrote and others), and a few songs I wasn’t familiar with. (Setlist)

Whatever the audience make-up, when he commanded us to sing, we knew the words. There was even a gospel-tastic cover of Sarah McLachlan’s Angel during an intermission, courtesy of the backup singers.

The music itself starred in the show, too. Prince called out the band on a regular basis, as well as the superiority of real, live musicians and singers. As well as his own copious collection of hits. As he hollered out during the encore, “Call the babysitter — I got too many hits!”

And, blessedly, the encore ended with a fine rendition of Kiss, Sherry’s favouritest Prince song. It just wouldn’t have been a complete evening without it. We sang, we danced, we got the funk out. Exactly as His Purpleness intended. 🙂

And for your funktification, the defiance of the “no photos or video recording rule:

November 25th show videos
November 26th show videos

How To Be Alone

I learned of this poem-in-video at the Blissdom Canada conference the other week, and, in fact, Tanya Davis, the artist, performed for us before the morning keynote. (She’s excellent, and has a new album out.)

I’ve done a lot of work on being publicly alone, and it rarely bothers me anymore. Being privately alone is something that’s gonna take some more work, though. But I do agree that you’re a sub-optimal partner for someone else if you’re not comfortable being a partner just to yourself.

My favourite part of the opening ceremonies

k.d. lang performs Hallelujah

at about 2:30:30. (If I find a direct link, I’ll update.)

k.d. lang’s cover of Cohen’s Hallelujah is my favourite, and she did it proud at the opening ceremonies.

As someone on Twitter noted last night: “That’s Canada for you. A vegan lesbian from Alberta singing a song written by a Quebec Jew.”

Indeed. 🙂

Not that all that other stuff — the satanic canoe fiddling match with Batman, the Prairie Peter Pan, the erectile dysfunction of the Olympic flame lighting, etc. — wasn’t fun, too…

Unphotographable

This is a picture I did not take of row upon row of women of a certain age, all with similar looks on their faces, eyes a million miles and a few decades away from the here and now, as the strains of a slow and romantic Artie Shaw number drifted through the Saturday afternoon air at Jazz Fest.

(What I wouldn’t give to know the stories of what they were remembering.) 🙂

Unphotographable

This is a picture I did not take of Tony, my chiropractor’s husband/office manager, and myself, pausing in the process of me paying him, to spontaneously and simultaneously rock out when AC/DC came on the radio.

Wait and Hope

One of the things I become more regularly aware of as I get older, and, at the same time, of which I am oft-reminded when I still frequently forget, is that my social sphere is a microcosm. When most folks around you believe what you believe, and like what you like, it can be easy to start to think that either a) that’s “normal”, or b) that everyone else believes and likes the same things.

I’ve had the conversation with several people recently centering on “I don’t understand how anyone could vote Republican”. Of course, “Republican” in this case not only refers to political affiliation, but also implies a large and nebulous set of social and cultural values typically more “conservative” than my own.

Basically, I don’t really understand how people can hold those opinions and values, either, because I don’t share them, but I know they exist. And I know they’re approximately half of the folks populating our continent.

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