I'll get the rest of last week out of the way first: nothing much happened until Friday. We had a very tasty meal at Checkers on Davie, and there was the final High Spirits outreach concert on Wednesday, which was mildly fun. There, who said I suck at summaries? And now...
Friday. Off to Granville Island to see the Broadway Chorus perform a revue show called Misplaced, a spoof of Lost in the form of a revue show with a plot connecting the songs. Kind of like a pantomime, but with good music. They even had Sailing - although recast as a chorus number and sung for laughs, thanks to where it appeared in the plot. Plenty of songs from obscure musicals, and from bang-up-to-date musicals too which was more impressive - The Light In The Piazza and Seussical, plus For Good from Wicked. The chorus was basically very good, and certainly very enthusiastic. They don't have much in the way of choreography, which is good, and being an adults-only group there's no sensation of jailbait being thrown onto the front of the stage in skimpy outfits to please the audiences, specifically the two-thirds of the audience who are the parents of the jailbait in question. Not that we know any theatre groups where that used to happen, no sir! Some slightly flaky voices, but nothing dreadful. The biggest problem was the length: 21 songs in the first half, 14 in the second. Only maybe 20% of them were poor enough to be cuttable, but if they'd done that, we wouldn't have been somewhat exhausted in the second act and waiting for the show to end, which never reflects well upon the songs you're hearing.
So I might go and audition for them, as they rehearse on Tuesday nights, which are currently free, and they're a little short of men!
Saturday. We ran around doing things during the day, mostly trying to get our impromptu "recording studio" set up and working so that we could make a CD. The occasion? Ieva's 60th birthday party. We got to the venue for about 5:15pm and had just about enough time to rehearse the ensemble and solo stuff we were performing, and then people started arriving. By the time the party was in full flow, there were well over 100 people - Ieva has a big family and three choirs who all love her! Marvin (Regier, of the choir and singing workshops some weeks back) was Master of Ceremonies, and first we sat through some toasts and roasts, and then there were half a dozen musical tributes. A group from High Spirits sang May You Always, an Andrews Sisters song, and James's group My Lady's Chamber sang three songs including the hacked-about What Shall We Do With The Drunken Ieva? - which was a hoot.
And then on came Noisy Panda with his faithful lop-eared accompanist. I announced that we had been asked to write a song for the occasion, "or at least I hope we were asked, as we've written one anyway." (Looking back on it, we're genuinely not sure, but too late now.) And I sat happily on the edge of the stage to start singing it. Someone reported to me later that Marvin had offered me back the microphone I'd used for my introduction when he realised I was going to sing, but I'm not sure I noticed, or if I did I just pushed it away...
And then I woke up.
I've probably mentioned before how I have this alarming tendency to wake up while performing; I mean by that that I find myself fully understanding that I'm on the stage performing. This is alarming in that until then I've clearly been doing all the right things, because I haven't had to think about it; the song lyrics are stored in my throat, I'm acting the song out by rote and according to plan... it's all good. When I wake up, this is a problem: I may now enjoy it more, being totally aware and in the moment, but I'm also now 100% responsible for everything I do. Nerves! Crisis! Autopilot is much more relaxing.
So having clarified that, let me now tell you that I sang this entire damn song 'in the moment', which made for a very nerve-wracking four minutes as I had only just learned the lyrics, and was still having to think very hard about the shape of a couple of the lines. Plus performance in front of 120 people. Plus, it was an important occasion. I didn't want to screw up (a) our song, (b) in front of Ieva, to whom it was dedicated and by whom it had been inspired, or (c) in front of a crowd of 120 of her family and friends, many of whom had heard 'all about us' from her or by our scarily-spreading reputation.
I was mightily relieved when we got to the end. But I was also mightily pleased, because after passing the last point in the song where I was concerned about the lyrics, I took a moment to look around the room, and I heard and felt that incredible emphasised silence which tells you that right now, as far as your audience is concerned, you are the only thing in the world worth focusing on. And that is a hugely satisfying feeling - I ought also to say humbling, but bah! Ego trip all the way, baby. We finished the song and there was a standing ovation. Hurrah for Gil and Sarah. Very excellent, worthy of the occasion, and general proof that we are Musical Geniuses Wot Write Songs Wot Are Not 'Alf Bad.
And boy, did we do a lot of schmoozing over the course of that party. More on that should anything transpire as a result.
Sunday. Argh! Owing to a slight error of timing, I ended up on at least provincial and possibly national TV, gleefully declaiming a rant (including the title of this post). This came about because Veronica from High Spirits was organising and appearing in a band playing at the Car-Free Day on Commercial Drive, and she'd invited us to come along to listen and generally soak up the ambience. Commercial Drive, at least this section of it between First and Venables, has a very Brightonian vibe, and in a car-free state it was like the North Lanes, albeit with much more street entertainment. We ambled around, listened to Veronica's band Toot-A-Loot, bought some stuff, and went home. But along the way, we were ambushed by a camera crew, who wanted to know how we'd gotten there - SkyTrain - and what we thought of the car-free concept. Gil, never short of a word or ten on the subject of "cars, and the evil that they do", launched into a prizewinning torrent of abuse of cars and drivers, praise for Vancouver's transit infrastructure, approval of London's congestion charge, political conspiracy-theorising about how the rich people get out of paying it, and so forth. Sarah stood faithfully next to me and nodded and chipped in with agreement about Vancouver's farsightedness (rather than, for example, saying, "But I like having a car"). As we departed the scene Sarah heard the interviewer saying something about "that was a perfect..." But we weren't aware of just what a "perfect..." it was until Monday morning when Josh at work informed me that he'd seen me on the news. Argh! Argh!
After a certain amount of searching we found the video online: if you have an FLV player, this is the link to it; failng that, I downloaded it and if I manage to convert it I'll post it up somewhere...
Sarah quizzed me on my panic yesterday evening. "What did you expect might happen if a TV news crew interviewed you on camera?" Well, clearly not this. Canada, consider yourself 'hit' again.
And now the weather. Or to be more truthful, some photos:
James working on our mirrors last weekend, with Gil looking on from a safe distance:
The view down Alberni Street.
A better view, showing the construction happening diagonally across from us. And yes, Podge was feeling very brave, poking his nose out of the window like that.
A picture of extremely happy bathing pigs, taken in the restaurant where we supped on Sunday after the High Spirits concert.
A very happy pig statue:
James and Susan (who are now together)
Wot Holidays?!
This is 'The Qube', an apartment building on West Georgia, the road down from us. Yes, it's being held up by straps. No, this is not safe. Next question.
A rather large water feature outside another building on West Georgia, its scale brought into focus by the presence of a small bunny. (She's actual size but she seems much bigger to me, as They Might Be Giants used to sing.)
Another, much smaller and prettier, water feature a little further down the street.
An odd tree trunk thingy outside a building. You may not be able to see pinecones squirming all around the base like living things. It was creepy.
I bet we've posted this before but it's just brilliant.
While waiting for the delayed Kim on Saturday afternoon. Mr Jaysmith's t-shirt by Monstrance.
Same location twenty seconds later.
At the car-free festival, much activism centred around a proposed new port extension and highway. Apparently 'marmots' will be threatened. (We spent quite some time estimating just what the hell this was before finding a sign saying it was a marmot.) But if they're this size, I foresee them having no trouble whatsoever in fending off construction crews.
Community drumming, led by our favourite star drummer Pepe! He's everywhere!
Birds of New York. (We're in a Blog TARDIS now; this is back to Sarah's trip to the east coast a couple of weeks ago.)
The world's dotiest piano?
Company is setting New York on fire. Lots of Tony awards. Sarah dug it.
Charlton Heston with a bunny. A rather large bunny. Proof that they get everywhere, and are secretly running the country.
And on the subject of 'getting everywhere':
Who was that blue-garbed superstar?
Oops, back to Vancouver. This giant (and nonfunctional) abacus sculpture stands outside the gate to an apartment complex in Chinatown. Wouldn't it be more fun if the access code for the gate had to be physically set on the abacus?
And back to the concept of superstars. An action shot, hopelessly (and hammily) posed while we were recording Love, Dance And Sing. Is there no stopping this panda?
Right, I think I deserve a rest after that. Cheerio, squires and squirrels... more next time. xxxxxx from Gil and Sarah.
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