Kingston
In Kingston we play on the coldest night of the year in a 100-year-old mansion that has been turned into the alumni type club for Queens University. The band plays in the Corner of the Living room. It feels a bit odd; it’s too small and they don’t move the tables in front of the stage so the dance floor is in this really small area just to the right of stage. The promoter orders us very mediocre pizza then proceeds to eat Thai food that her and the bar staff have ordered. The show goes well enough, but it’s just too cold and it’s the first day of Reading Week and the venue is just too small and just kinda odd. A very nice woman takes our terrible laundry and has it ready for us the next day just as we are leaving for Montreal. It costs 6 bucks and I don’t think about tipping. Just as guilt is setting in I hear that Colin gave her 20 bucks. I feel a little better. Colin always tips like a millionaire even though he’s only a hundredaire. This is when Al realizes that he has left one of his bags in Ottawa. The one with all his dirty clothes… more sexiness and glamour of road life!!
Water east of BC tastes terrible (I guess that’s relative, but I’m right!). The ice trees in Ontario, NB and Quebec are very beautiful. Like chrome-forged things. A combination of freezing rain and snow and just fucking cold has transformed the trees into things that simply must die, but they won’t. Plants are so resilient… way more than us wimpy humans… anyway they look excellent, like my grandparents’ old Xmas tree, all fake and silver. Had yet another night out in Montreal last night. Hung out with excellent Jazzberry sister Elle who takes us to an English language beer stronghold in the heart of french Montreal and friend Claire (who wrote a nice review of last week’s Le Swimming show in the “McGill Daily” twice-weekly paper, she didn’t mention the puke…) (24-hour video? Not in a ROW!). We eat Godlike Potates for the 3rd time on this tour. Pizza de Pins!! Go there!!