Snow ball fights at David Suzuki's Global Warming Tour Finale

Ottawa - We are at the museum of civilization playing the finale of the David Suzuki's cross-country marathon to alert people to the rising danger of global warming. It was snowing like a son-of-a-bitch, which caused some smart-ass reporter to ask Suzuki whether the snow meant we could call off the apocalypse?

"Apocalypse Now!" Suzuki retorted,"we are in the apocalypse! You're not supposed to get snow like this in early March in Ottawa, this is extreme weather like we have been predicting." People can be so dense. Everybody know climatic cataclysm is coming. The sea levels will rise 20 feet (or 18 centimetres, depending on who you ask), causing massive flooding of low lying areas. Hell, look at New Orleans, it already sank and there is no other explanation allowable than global warming.

Anyway, this thick as an arctic ice shelf reporter kept harping on about when is the warming coming that Suzuki keeps promising, and what's with all the cold and snow? Finally Stevie has had enough, being as she is in love with Dr. Suzuki and can't stand to see anyone question his infinite and, dare I say it, divine wisdom. Stevie believes, as does any left thinking human, that if David Suzuki says the world is warming, then it's time to put on the summer moo-moo's and wear the Birkenstock's without the wool socks, snow and ice or no snow and ice!

As I said, Stevie has had enough, and throws a snow ball at the clown. He picks it up and throws it back at her. Unfortunately, he throws like a reporter, and it's really too cold to be re-using snow balls. By the time he has picked it up a second time, it has frozen solid, and it's like throwing a rock. The frozen projectile misses Stevie and hits Tippy square on the melon.

Now this is ironic, because Tippy, having endured a few good hits to the melon before, believes Global warming will be beneficial to mankind. But here he is, being proven wrong by a frozen snowball. Tippy goes down like Tomáš Kaberle after a New Jersey body check. This enrages Stevie, who throws another snowball, which again, is frozen solid by the time it gets sent back to us. Tippy is groggily sitting up when the second ball again hits him on the head. Tippy is out cold.

Stevie loses it, and peels off her Birkenstock and attacks the reporter. Unfortunately, Stevie isn't wearing her wool socks, due to global warming, and when her bare foot lands in the cold snow she jumps up and shrieks in pain. When she comes down her Birkenstocked foot lands on an ice patch, causing her to slip and fall.

Tippy was just waking up and groggily sat up. He never saw Stevie coming, and had no chance to escape her fall. Stevie is, I think I have mentioned before, a big woman. Tippy a small-ish man. Stevie landed hard on poor Tippy, who was eventually taken to the hospital in Dr. Suzuki's very stylish, fully modern bus.

"Nice bus", Stevie said as we got on, "this thing run on Ethanol?"

Wearing White & Piddling on the Cenotaph

Ottawa - Remembrance Day

We were invited to play at the cenotaph and accepted with some reluctance, as these ceremonies tend to be more conservative than we are comfortable with. Tippy was out of the hospital and doing fine, but had been told to drink lots of fluids. As such he arrived with a 2L jug of water, and spent most of this time drinking it.

We had been asked to provide a short show before the vets parade arrived at ten-thirty. This we did, playing from our repertoire of war-based material. Unfortunately, we only play anti-war songs Ballad of the Green Beret, Give Peace A Chance that sort of thing. Apparently this crowd was more in the mood for Battle Hymn of the Republic than Eve of Destruction.

While we might reasonably have been able to figure that out, I don't know how we could be expected to know that Stevie's poppy would give offense. Stevie had bought a white poppy from some guy in Edmonton, as a symbol of peace. He explained to Stevie that the white poppy told people you believed in supporting our troops by not sending them to war. The white indicated her pacifist views, while still supporting the young men who, frankly, are not smart enough to know that they are pawns of the imperialist intentions of the ruling elite.

But the Vets and other members of the Legion somehow found this quite sane view insulting. As soon as services where over, Tippy went to one to ask where the bathroom was:

"Excuse me, can you tell me where the toilet is?" Tippy asked an older gentleman.

"Hey, what do you think your doing wearing that white poppy?" he yelled at Stevie.

"I am supporting our troops, by supporting the peace." she answered very reasonably.

"No really sir," said Tippy. "I drank a big jug of water..."

"You support the troops by supporting peace?" he asked incredulously. "Do you have any bloody idea what the poppy represents?"

Stevie was ready for this one. "It represents the brutality of war, it's blood red colour a symbol of the blood of our children that has been left on the field of battle."

“If you could just tell me before…” Tippy tried again.

"You have children fighting then?" he asked.

"No, I have no children," said Stevie. "I mean our children as in the collective young of the country."

"Well George over there, he has a son who was lost in battle, let’s ask him what he thinks. Oy, George," he yelled. George came over, and he said, "this one here says your William shouldn’t have been fighting, but was too stupid to realize it. What's more that he is collectively all of ours, not just yours."

"Oh?" he said looking at us. "You cried when William died then?"

"No," we said. I was about to say "Sorry for your loss,” or some such, when he said "How about a good swift kick in the groin then, and you can get an idea of the hurt, although I'd have to stand here kicking you for the next six months to give full effect."

"No thank you," was all I could muster, when he said to Stevie. "So you would wear your cowards poppy in honour of my son, would you."

She was about to reply, when I heard someone yelling from the other side of the cenotaph.

"What the hell are you doing?” someone yelled.

Tippy came running around with his pants lowered. "I'm sorry sir. I drank a big bottle of water, you see. For medicinal purposes," he was saying. As he ran out, we saw an old vet, about 75 years old, running after him and belting him over the head with a cane.

"What happened," the fellow we were talking too asked, and the old fellow with the cane said: "he was pissing on the memorial."

"Don’t worry,” said another gentleman with a camera, “I got pictures."

Klein to Singer: "Keep Your Moo-moo On."

Calgary

We were asked to play a roast for Ralph Klein, Dangerous Neo-con Premier of that great bastion of un-Canadian intolerant regressiveness, Alberta. The cold dead heart of that moral prairie wasteland is Calgary. We entered the Lion's den because a) It was a roast of Ralph Klein, so we weren't going to have to listen to people praise 'Premier free market at all costs' b) Calgary gigs pay really, really well.

Besides that, it was a charity event for the Calgary Homeless Foundation. Why the Conservatives would suddenly care about the homeless is beyond me. Surely these conservatives would have you believe that there's jobs aplenty in Calgary, and anybody who is homeless could just get a job. These black and white types never understand that somebody with great potential shouldn't be lowering themselves to serving hamburgers and coffee to their lessers, so to protect their dignity, possibly the only thing they have, they must rely on government largess and a bit of panhandling.

The gig went well, the large paycheck in hand, and the roasting of Neo-Klein Ralph was great. Lots of drinking jokes, and very personal jabs where it hurts a guy the most. I must say for an intolerant, he took it all very well. Then it was NKR's turn to take a few shots back. This he did with the usual kind of rebuttal that you get at these roasts. Jabs about the drinking and habits of the people who took their shots, a few good-natured jabs at some people in the audience, that sort of thing. Then it turned ugly.

I can barely repeat the vile filth, but the gist is he said Belinda Stronach "didn't have a conservative bone in her body... well maybe one." Everybody knew this was a jab at her for her past mating habits with Peter MacKay. Stevie was standing beside me, and suddenly started to go crazy (Tippy couldn't make it, as he was still he hospital after his stoning). "He can't say that!" she yelled. "That's Belinda he's talking about. That's sexist."

I knew trouble was coming, and sure enough as soon as the roast was over, Stevie raced over to NKR and started yelling at him. "You sexist nazi bastard, you cannot be making sexual comments like that about women. Do you really think it's OK to just go around calling people names?”

At this one of Neo-Klein Ralph's henchmen stepped forward, in case Stevie reached for her Birkenstock I guess. "Ma'am, your going to have to move along now..." he started to stay, but Stevie was yelling back by the time he got two words out. "Back off brown-shirt. I am a citizen of this country and have a Constitutional right to speak freely with the Premier."

NKR tried to calm every one down. "Keep your moo-moo on," he started to say to Stevie. She turned on him immediately.

"What did you say to me? Keep my moo-moo on? That's sexist! Would you say that to a man?"

"A man wouldn't be wearing a moo-moo..." he started to say, but Stevie wasn't finished.

"You fat, bald, drunken, sexist boor. You cannot just speak down to every woman in the world. We have a right to conduct our business with dignity intact, just like every man does, you beer bellied Neanderthal, regardless of whether our business is music, politics or serving you Labatt's 50..."

Much of that was said from the ground actually, as she poked him in the chest when she called him a "fat, bald, drunken, sexist boor," and his secret police jumped her. They had the cuffs on her by the time she got to “beer bellied Neanderthal”, and as she was being dragged off I heard something about just because he's Premier doesn't mean he can go around indiscriminately calling people names.

It's too bad to ruin a night where we got big pay for fourty-five minutes work, especially as there was only two of us to split it between, but at least we made enough to cover Stevie’s bail, which isn't always the case.

Death of a Birkenstock

Edmonton

A no more war rally this weekend. This was a last minute gig, as Bruce Cockburn was bounced after saying that he would enlist if the Taliban invaded Canada. As Bruce should know, you are either with us, or you are a war mongering, racist, culturalist, homophobe, colonialist who deserves a line in the firing squad. The people organizing this rally know that violence is never justified. Not against Hitler, not against Pol Pot, and certainly not against the Mullahs.

Stevie understands this better than most, and in sympathy for Afghan women, decided to wear a burqa over her love beads. She looked awful, but I didn't want to get bopped in the head by her "violence never solved anything" sign for telling her, so I just shut up, played my autoharp, sang and tried to ignore the lady in black ghost costume beside me.

Some Muslim men in the audience liked how she looked, however, and kept calling up to her. "Show us your eyes," "sexy headgear baby," and, surprisingly, they seemed to be rapping "Burqa, Burqa Baby." Stevie was obviously flattered by the attention of the young, fit men, and after the show she went down to talk to them.

She thanked them for their attention, and lifted her burqa to give one of the young men a kiss. When he saw she was a middle aged white woman in a moo-moo he was stunned. When she kissed him on the cheek he became flushed.

His friend, immediately yelled "Infidel Harlot, pretending to be a good Muslim woman." Another friend started yelling, “stone her,” and suddenly Stevie's life and limb was being threatened by pacifist representatives of the religion of peace.

Tippy jumped off the stage to protect Stevie, but unfortunately jumped in front of her just as someone let go with a good-sized stone. It rocked off his head, making him woozy. He spun around, and a second stone caught him in the back of the head.

I could see by his eyes he couldn’t take too many more shots to the head. Stevie, realizing Tippy was in trouble, and thinking quick, took off her Birkenstock and started beating on one of the Arabian peaceniks with it. I honestly think Tippy would have been fine at this, as things seemed to be calming down a little. But he was still woozy from the first two stones and, even though the rock was thrown from a good distance away, was pretty darn big, and every body yelled Duck Tippy,. he never ducked. Tippy went down like he had been shot.

At this point the police came in and our brothers in peace from the oppressed parts of the world scattered, leaving Stevie with a half dead Birkenstock, and Tippy bleeding on the ground. A member of the controlling elites armed enforcement group went over to Tippy, presumably to se if he was OK. Stevie yelled "leave him alone you bloody fascists," and hit one with her sandal, causing him to throw her to the ground to try and calm her.

At this point Tippy woke up, saw Stevie on the ground, with a large man on top of her. Tippy is not violent, but he is protective of Stevie. He must have thought the guys who stoned him had Stevie as he picked up the rock that felled him and was about to hit the cop with it, when another cop belted him with his billy club, finishing the job the stones started.

Good Cooking - Bad Spinach

Clayoquot BC

We had a few days off, so we traveled to Stevie's home in Clayoquot. She loves to cook and promised to make us a gourmet meal. The problem is Stevie is a strict Vegan - no meat, no dairy, no fish, she doesn't even like animal crackers.

On the other hand I don't like vegetables very much. I agree with her stand visa-vie cruelty to animals, not eating flesh of our fellow creatures and so forth. But I simply don't like vegetables. While my mind says, "Be a Vegan, it's a good thing," my body says "Feed me meat." I do what I can to eat only humanely treated meat, dolphin free tuna, almost never eating veal, that sort of thing. But to sit and eat a meal of vegetables is just not on. So when we go to Stevies, I have a peanut butter sandwich, as nobody is allowed to eat meat on her property. (Although, I have to supply my own white bread and Kraft peanut butter, as she only has organic home made peanut butter, and bread with clumps of grain in it.)

Tippy, on the other hand, will eat anything: animal, vegetable or mineral. He is one of those people who eats anything and everything whenever he wants, and stays skinny. Stevie is, by all accounts, an excellent Vegan chef, so Tippy was looking forward to dinner.

The first course came and Stevie announced it was baked apple, with walnut and spinach stuffing.

"Spinach?" I said. "Isn't there bad spinach going around?"

"Oh, not this spinach." she said. “It’s organic.”

Tippy dug in and it was clear almost immediately that something was wrong. Within minutes he was a bit green looking, and I commented that he didn't look so well. He said he didn't feel so well and I asked Stevie if she was sure the spinach was OK.

"What can be wrong with spinach?" she asked. "I know what's good for upset stomach," she announced and went to the kitchen for a salad.

"Is that iceberg lettuce?" I asked.

"Of course. Full of vitamins, and there's nothing better for an upset stomach."

Tippy seemed to disagree, and within minutes of eating his salad was throwing up.

"Are you sure the lettuce was OK?" I asked.

"What could be wrong with lettuce?" she asked. "Now go and get him a drink to help calm his stomach,” she said to me.

"Right," I said, jumping up and running to the kitchen. "Ginger Ale coming up."

"Not Ginger Ale," Stevie said. "Full of sugar, it's terrible for him."

"What should I get then?" I asked.

"Carrot Juice."

No More Nukes

Calgary - No More Nukes Rally today. Everybody was out, and the fall whether of last week had warmed up enough that people were back in Birkenstocks and ready to party.

We did a set of favourites from the old no nukes rally's of the seventies, and people were grooving along. Old hippies in fold up lawn chairs and moo-moo’s brought coolers full of food, and sat in the sun enjoying the music. It was beautiful.

At the end of our set, one of the organizers came on and said, "There's been another nuclear test."

We were shocked. Here we were, singing and sitting for peaceful non-proliferation, and the ruling elite where ignoring us. It's not as though the media wasn't here. The Star was here earlier lining us up to look like more than we were, the Globe guy came past ten minutes later and did the same. Our rally of a few hundred will look like thousands in the papers tomorrow. And the CBC has seven camera crews here (and I thought I saw Ralph Benmergui).

But the fascists who rule the world will ignore the voice of the people. "Can you read this announcement to the crowd?" the organizer asked me.

"Brothers and Sisters," I read. "We must pass on grievous news. Today, the world has added one more nuclear power. While we have been offering non-denominational prayers for peace, and non-proliferation, North Korea has tested a nuclear weapon."

I nearly choked on my herbal tea, with organic honey (collected by bee keepers paid a fair wage for their efforts). North Korea? The glorious leader and our number one fan, Kim Jong-Il has tested a nuclear weapon? I didn't know what to do. He sends us three fan letters a week. (We have asked him to e-mail, but apparently they don't have e-mail yet in North Korea.)

The crowd started to boo, and let their displeasure at events be known. One woman yelled out that she was handcuffing herself to her cooler and staying where she was until North Korea changed and repented – or it got too cold for just a moo-moo.

Stevie would have none of it. She couldn’t have the glorious King Jong-Il, our most persistent fan, being maligned in this way.

“Brothers and sisters,” she announced. “Don’t blame the North Koreans, or their brave leader, who on this day has stood up to American Imperialist Aggression in the most logical way. Bullies only understand might, and Kim Jong-Il, and all North Koreans, know only bullying from the Bushites in the international community.”

She had them now, as nothing calms a crowd of angry hippies like an insult to George W. Unfortunately, one protester didn’t get all the memos and yelled up, “One more nuclear bomb is one more too many.”

While Stevie tried to protest, someone yelled out “Damn right.” Stevie worked to calm the crowd, and Tippy was just putting away his Zionist’s harp, when somebody threw a large bottle of carrot juice. It hit Tippy square in the head, knocking him out.

Stevie started yelling, “Who’s the aggressive imperialist who threw that?” But the crowd was now so angry that they started rushing the stage. Stevie and I barely got poor prostate Tippy dragged to the Prius before the mob got ugly.

Rally for the CBC

Toronto - We were playing a save the CBC rally in Toronto Thursday. It seems Bush lackey, 'Steve' Harper and his minister in charge of tearing down culture in Canada, Bev Oda, are trying to destroy the CBC by not supplying it with enough funding.

That Harper is such a philistine: I have heard he is a big hockey fan, and it shows. How can ay government not supply the CBC with enough money to buy the shows it needs to survive. I bet if it was a hockey game the CBC was buying, the money would magically appear.

The turn out was pretty good, maybe 12 or 13 people, which doesn't sound like much, but we know from experience, when you want to save institutions like the CBC, people just aren't interested. We only played a couple of songs as it was starting to get cold, and my Autoharp was going out of tune. However, we did get a chance to meet a CBC big shot, one of the director's of programming. Stevie what shows the government was cutting, and Mr. Big shot told us it was hockey.

"Hockey?" asked Stevie. "We thought it was Thursday night opera or Corner Gas"

"Corner Gas isn't CBC."

"No? So what shows do you have?"

"Hockey Night in Canada. Coronation Street. The Air Farce. Monday Report with Rick Mercer.

"Rick Mercer? That comedian with the curly hair and the smirk? He's not funny." Said Stevie.

"We had high hopes for a Ralph Benmergui variety show that we are in negotiations for, but now that the NeoCons have revealed that part of their hidden agenda is not provide us with 1.4 Billion dollars for hockey night in Canada, we probably can't afford Benmergui’s asking price."

"$1.4 Billion dollars. Who would pay that for hockey?"

"CTV. And of course they have the money dammit. How can we compete with people who are spending their own money? How are we supposed to fund our “politicians of the left mini-series” series now?"

Anyway, things didn't turn out too bad, as the exec had us in studio to do "The Hockey Song," on a show that would be played after the hockey game. Unfortunately, we didn't realize there were two hockey games on, and the show didn't come on until 2:00 AM. We heard the next day we had a nine rating. “Nine doesn’t sound so bad,” Stevie said.

“Nine viewers”.