Paddle boarding?

I find it funny in a not at all funny but actually kind of depressing way that anxieties can keep people from doing the most random of things. I had been discussing this with a co-worker, specifically in the realm of artistic endeavors. I’ll have an idea, a eureka moment, a flash of brilliance if you will and for a short amount of time I’ll be ecstatic to embark on this new idea and then BAM! that evil little anxiety voice will set in and tell me its garbage. It will list all the ways other people could potentially shit all over this idea and then reassure me that no one will make fun of me for binge watching something on Netflix so I should go do that instead.

My co-worker mentioned that she had the same thing but with sportsy things she wanted to try (yes sportsy, I made up a word and I’m sticking with it). She gave the example of always wanting to try paddle boarding. Despite being only mildly athletic (or not at all athletic, who’s counting?), I got stoked about the idea “Hell yeah, let’s go, let’s do the paddle boarding thing.”

She thought I was joking, or possibly making fun of her. I was not. This seemed to me, from the outside looking in, like a super feasible thing to do, especially since the weather was fantastic. After convincing her that I was dead serious about wasting my Saturday on what she coined as “surfing for pussies” we did a bit of Googling and then booked our paddle board reservation.

The next day I put on my bathing suit and board shorts and went to pick up my co-worker who announced that she had looked up instructions on how to paddle board since the paddle board thing we booked was in French (we’re Montreal it’s always a language coin flip when learning anything new) and we are not the greatest French speakers when it comes to sportsy things – the fact that I call it “sportsy things” in my native tongue should reinforce this point.

She gave me the rundown of how you point the curve of the paddle away from you (counter-intuitive) and all the other finer points travel brochure pictures of paddle boarding leave out. Wasn’t necessary in the end, the instructor dude ended up speaking in both languages, not that there were any super technical terms to worry about.

Anyway, we had a blast, we went with SUP MTL and they were awesome. They took a few minutes on shore to show us how to paddle board. Within a few minutes of being on the water, our glorious group of 8 newbies were off on an hour and half tour. Only 3 people fell off their boards on the course of this tour, I’m glad to say neither I nor my co-worker were one of them. This makes us athletic and validates my using of the term “sportsy.”

Suffice to say I would definitely recommend telling a co-worker to go paddle boarding with you.

Note to reader I keep accidentally calling “paddle boarding” “water boarding” which is really inappropriate. Just be warned that you might make that mistake and be considered a horrible person.

Sorry to say no awesome pictures of us paddle boarding because I don’t have a waterproof camera, if someone wants to give me waterproof camera that would be great. In the meantime here’s a picture I drew of us water boar-I mean paddle boarding on MS paint.



Punk Beginnings

I stood there in front of the expansive magazine stand, stoked, eager but still trying to look cool. The crisp, new issue of Spin magazine sat perfectly on that shelf with the headline “1977 The Year Punk Exploded. The Sex Pistols’ Bollocks Turns 30”. Punk music just turned 30 and I was freshly 17 and had one punk show under my belt, this was my Bible.

No more time being locked in the basement listening to my punk CDs on repeat. I had just started CEGEP (college) in the city and I’d finally be free to go to endless punk shows and go out drinking (still technically illegally but who was counting?) but not before I read, no, studied, the entire contents of said magazine. The adventures that would follow were certainly memorable and for my teenage heart – oh so exciting.

All that excitement of anticipation lived in that issue of Spin magazine, sitting so perfectly on that shelf. Thou shalt not covet, thou shalt purchase and I did.

2007, the marker of 30 years of punk, was most definitely a pivotal year for me – the music I further explored that year, the friends I made, the things I studied in that year influenced who I am today more than any other year to date. It feels like only a short while ago, but lo and behold it’s already been 10 years and Montreal is celebrating next week in the form of the Montreal 77 Festival, with headlining acts Dropkick Murphys and Rancid. In case you were wondering I have my ticket at the ready and my vacation day booked.

In case you were wondering what that magazine contained, don’t worry, I totally kept it all these years. Johnny Rotten was quoted saying “The Ramones to me were never punk” – and to that I say, he’s entitled to his opinion, despite how wrong it is. There was also a list of the best punk albums from 1978-2007, Dropkick Murphys and Rancid’s funky fresh tunes both made the list. And so did My Chemical Romance’s, it’s okay Spin, everyone makes mistakes – I too remember thinking, they’ll probably gravitate towards a more punkish sound as the emo trend died down, nobody could expect the disaster that was “Sing”.

I could go on and on about the reunions and interviews featured in this magazine, from the British, to East Coast to West Coast punk scenes but y’all should’ve kept your copies for all those juicy details because I don’t have all day.

Cheers to 40 years of punk.

Cheers to 10 years of punk shows for me.

Cheers to this new blog, and the hope for more adventures.

Spin. October 2007. Print.