There was a guy who hung with the bunchofuckingoofs who did security for Handsome Ned at Ned’s Toronto Island picnic. Blue Rodeo played the first year, maybe it was 1986, and we were stellar, a buzz was gathering. Later, the bands were boarding the ferry back to Toronto and friend-of-the-Goofs refused to let me on. Gave me a menacing Johnny Rotten glare paired and threatening fist. Greg, an expert in bullying, came to the rescue and barked back at him “he’s in the band!!”. Friend-of-the-Goofs cowered but those experiences never felt resolved. Shaming them is a bittersweet reward. The greater offence is that they are wired up to be proud of their behaviour in the first place.

Attended a Zoom meeting with scholar Naomi André speaking about the music and compositions of Black Opera. I signed up, heard there was a recent opera about the Central Park Five and wanted to hear/ know about it. My computer unfortunately froze for 30 minutes, exactly when she brought it up. Still, what I heard about other works, like Blue, was impressive and exciting to learn about. Opera and musicals are a beautiful art form. I love hearing stories through song though one rotten tale remained long afterward in everyone’s mind. She told the Zoom crowd that sometimes at operatic functions, people hand her their empty glasses, assuming she is among the staff working the show instead of who she is – an audience member who is also a scholar.

There was a guy in the early 90s who flew into Toronto to start working with Ron Sexsmith. He was an American from Nashville and I drove him to a studio where a session was going on. I parallel parked and as we got out of the car he snorted to me “I park like a woman myself, (insert laughing to himself) I just hit the others cars back and forth”. He lost the job right then and there if it was me in charge of his future.