Well homies, another day another dollar. Except I don't have a job at the moment, so I guess that isn't exactly true. For those of you that are just tuning in, I am a teacher, not a lawn bowling champion past his prime, or a horse whisperer who simply ran out of horses. I know those were your first assumptions. Ok back to life... another great few days of Island Time, which basically means you aren't allowed to look at your watch or ask what time it is, unless of course, you are meeting other creatures who are also on Island Time. On this beautiful Friday evening, my travelling partners and I decided to tighten the belts, double-knot our laces, and hit the ground running Westward. We managed to eventually stumble upon the incorporated township of Tahsis, which billed itself most modestly as the "Birthplace of BC." I'm interested what the First Nations think about that proclamation. What looked like a once booming town in the heart of the Nootka Sound, now stands an aching combination of 1980's architecture, waning tourism, and a significant population decrease. I mean no disrespect to the town itself - but it is always a little depressing seeing communities with forgotten schools, dilapidated buildings, and deserted houses. Thus is the life of a blue collar town run by multinational resource companies. I hope all these hardworking people found work, but I fear they did not. Moving on, our adventure led us to Gold River, a town that has managed to keep on truckin,' as the mill was still functioning, and ridiculously ginormous boats infested the beautiful estuary inlet. The next day saw us wander out to the Canadian Maui, also known as Tofino. This place has its own beautiful mystique with its scenic ocean beaches, carefree living, and an interesting contrast between tourists dressed in Hawaiian t-shirts and the non-conformist offspring of once dedicated flower children. Anyways, we headed off the beaten path a little bit, in search of the arcane forest creatures that I am still 83% sure reside here. After a little hike, we arrived at a place that I can only describe as... it. "It" had to have no-contact tribes and dragons inhabiting its dense foliage. For a brief second I thought I heard a Joffrey Baratheon battle cry, but it was merely a toddler having a temper tantrum in the distance. Alas, no mythical creatures found, but some amazing landscape was explored. Instead of heading home, we decided to search for some secret caves we heard some undercover tourists whispering about. By undercover tourists, I mean Lannisters dressed as tourists. These caves did not disappoint, and the network of underground tunnels was awe-inspiring. The small pocket light I was so proud to find almost ended up killing me as it did not illuminate the ground enough to reveal a straight drop off of about 50 feet. Seriously folks, another inch and I was a goner. My travelling companions would not have been impressed. This prompted an immediate exit, and I now know why those "tourists" were whispering. They should have whispered a little louder. Or quieter? I don't know. What I do know is that my neurons are overwhelmed from over-stimulation. Stay tuned folks, the journey is just beginning...

More Betterness

August 13, 1998 Legion Hall Kamloops BC On this sweltering Kamloops evening, I was lucky of to attend what would become for me, a very influential punk rock show. The bands Choke, Limp, and the legendary No Use For A Name graced the stage of the small yet perfect venue known as the Legion Hall. Kamloops was lucky enough to have an amazing Punk Radio show at the time called Listen Up Punk, and the hosts introduced me to the bands Choke and Limp, both of which I was extremely stoked to see. Not as excited as I was to see NUFAN however, as the albums The Daily Grind and Leche Con Carne got me through early high school mornings throwing print at doorsteps for what seemed like spare change. Anyways, as my friends and I waited outside the venue, the lead singer Tony Sly walked across the busy street wearing a green shirt with two different colored hands shaking - in a show of anti-racist unity. It was this EXACT moment that I realized this entire punk rock scene was much more than just an amazing sound. It was an outlet for change, diversity, and freedom of thought. I was already (and still am) into more politically minded bands such as Propagandhi, Good Riddance, Pennywise, and Bad Religion, but this moment made me realize there wasn't just a few outspoken bands pushing for change. This was a movement. It has been a few days since the passing of one of punk rock's great songwriters. Tony Sly of No Use for a Name had a knack for writing diverse songs, from the furious "Feeding the Fire" and "Until It's Gone" to the ridiculously catchy "On the Outside," "Soulmate," and countless others. He also had the rare ability to write heart-wrenching, melancholy songs who's lyrical content, melody, and even chord progressions could put you into a temporary depression. To be honest I could go on and on, but if you know the band, you know the songs. I recently watched him play a solo show at the small venue "Amigos" in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. I was going to tell him this little story, and thank him for the punk rock epiphany, but the timing wasn't right. Now he is gone, and no one can tell him little stories such as this. If there is a lesson embedded in here somewhere, I guess it is that you should always tell people how you feel, because you never know when that opportunity will be lost forever. "Let it fall, let it rise Let it be and let it slide Let tomorrow come and take my time away" - Let it Slide from the album More Betterness!

Hello fellow Earthlings. Where to even begin? This week has seen its fair share of discovery and exploration worthy of the history books. Well maybe more like journals. Written by me. Anyways, with a few good friends and a mysterious man I call Catfish Billy by my side, I ventured to the mainland and left no rock unturned. Kicking off the expedition was an unbelievable concert by the almighty band Strung Out, and a trek through the metropolitan concrete jungle known as Vancouver. The diversity and unique character of this place is a beautiful and precious thing, but that doesn't tell the whole story. Taking the elevated sky train reveals a vastly sprawled out city layered with old rusted factories, abandoned and decaying buildings drowning in stained walls, and new high rises reaching for the stars. Each building with a story, and if you search hard enough, a person to tell it. Good food though. Next, with a unanimous vote and wind in our sails, we headed for the hills of Squamish, bicyclettes in hand. The hard tail bike was a bad choice for these parts... a jarring of the rear brake mechanism apparatus catapulting system caused a puncture wound into the muscle. Oddly enough, muscles don't like to be touched on the inside. We then found a place to set up camp and play guitars by a campfire, but not before passing what must have been an Ed Hardy jamboree where all v-necks and flip-flops were half price. We elected to drive a few clicks down the road from that dog and pony show. Escaping with (our) dignity intact, we cooked a great late night meal and barked at the moon until the sun scared it away. Good friends, a few guitars, and a campfire are the only ingredients needed for a perfect night. That is what I call True and Livin'