New Decade/New Blog

Well folks, you might have guessed,...I haven't been here in a while. Somehow, while I love this blog dearly, the passage of time has brought me a new perspective and I'm not quite the same naive wonder that I once was.

Anyway, I am launching a fresh start at http://voracious4life.com for anyone who wants to follow along. I'm going to be putting a lot of living into this one, or die trying. :)

Hope to see you all there.

Cheers,
Liz

Death of an Aspiring Writer

The verdict is in.

The roommate did it... In the local pub... With a pint of Keiths.

Well, that is at least is one of the root causes for my prolonged absence from my much loved blog.

An evolution has been taking over the last year that has left this Limping Lizard very little to lament about, and perhaps to much to celebrate. I'm barely even recognizable even to myself these days. I'm laughing, smiling, dropping pounds by the truck load and thanks to reconstructive leg surgery, I'm not even limping anymore (and only do so after incurring much enjoyed, self-inflicted injuries on the dance floor).

My one of my greatest wishes and worst fears have come true. After years of amusing myself by writing about the life I wish I had, I have finally started to live a life worth writing about, which unfortunately has left me with precious little time to sit down and put it into prose. Having finally embarked on a dating life that could perhaps make a Hilton blush, I no longer have been able to carve out time to wax on about my wee adventures.

And I even further impeded my chosen art by decimating any quiet time I might have found between dates by acquiring a roommate to help pay the bills thanks to the impending financial storm. It has worked out spectacularly well, and better than I could have ever imagined, because I never accounted for how much fun that a roommate would ultimately equate to. My roommate has turned out to be not only a financial buffer, but also an incredibly reliable and amusing 24/7 on-call "wing man", who regularly helps me terrorize my favorite haunts with. Oh, the stories I have to tell, were there time to tell them.

So here I am, on a perfectly good Thursday night before a long weekend, having declined invitations to join in on some light-hearted debauchery to instead enjoy a quiet moment, a glass of wine and a much overdue reunion with my computer.

How I have missed you. And where do I start?

Oh snap....the phone just rang. Gotta fly....have to get ready for a date. ;)

But stay tuned, with the long weekend ahead and an otherwise quiet weekend up north away from the sources of my new found distraction, the reunion may be very sweet indeed.

.

I Just Want Your Extra Time and Your....Kiss

Oh, for the love of a kiss...

I was recently reminded of a silky and sublime line written by one of my greatest loves, Robbie Burns himself. "Love is the alpha and omega of human enjoyment." Does it get much truer than that? Thank God for all those who embody it in their very core.

But, if I may be so bold as to take some liberties with and expand upon Robbie's more noble meaning, I'd like to add that a great kiss can sure rock your world too.

I was driving into work with a friend recently and we broke up the monotony of the moving parking lot otherwise known as the Don Valley PARKway and drizzly weather with a light-hearted conversation about morning talk-radio shows. My friend then told me that the subject on her fave station this morning was about first kisses. "Cool", I thought to myself. "Who doesn't love a first kiss?"

But unfortunately, I didn't see where the conversation was heading and while I was distracted with some delicate navigating around the essentially parked cars and rain ahead of me, she asked me, "What was your first kiss like?" Unfortunately for me, my reflex response was "With who?"

Um, okay Liz. Nice move. Way to paint yourself with a brush of a different colour, a sharp hue of red at that. After I accurately read my friend's cocked-up eyebrow and quizzical look to indicate I'd made an embarrassing error in my understanding, I realized, whoops...got it...first kiss....period.

I could see that the only way to dig myself out of that particularly sticky situation was to come clean and tell her the whole truth about a far more crushing embarrassment; that which was my first kiss. (Not counting the litany of poor boys I used to chase around in public school telling them "secrets" as I kissed their ears or other unique strategies I employed to learn a little about the art of the kiss. But I digress, and shame myself further.)

My first "romantic" kiss is truly a unique story. Or at least I hope it is, for the sake of all the innocents out there who brave the unknown, the mortal dread of rejection and the all-out blinding white fear laced with a rushing thrill causing your heart to beat in your ears that is involved with taking that first step towards the alpha and omega of human enjoyment.

The best thing that came out of my first kiss was, well, the story. All due respect to the very poor soul who had to share that journey with me. I remember it as if it were yesterday, though there are many yesterdays in between. Tragically, I don't remember the kiss with the digital accuracy that I do because of the actual kiss, but rather the circumstance and the fallout thereof.

My first kiss came about during a summer of discovery in my 15th year. My family was staying up north at the cottage where I had spent every summer since birth, and since my family had a nasty nomadic tendency resulting in a procession of new schools each year, my girlfriends at the cottage were among the closest I had. They’d all been with me since the very beginning and shared a sense of history that as of yet I had not acquired anywhere else and the adventures that we got into together could easily rival those of our male counterparts in Steven King’s “Stand by Me”. Minus the corpse of course.

In any case, this was the first summer in which we all started to pay studied attention to the boys that also summered up north with us. And there were no shortage of venues in which to explore that whole new world. We teased them mercilessly at the tennis club. We shouted out flirtatious jibes their direction as we jumped off of “Red Rock” into the lake. We stood far, far away from them affecting as much disinterest as possible while watching their every move at the weekend dances and we “grudgingly” allowed them to skate beside us at the roller rink. It’s actually a small miracle that they paid any attention to us at all considering our behaviour, but somehow, our amateur attempts at reverse psychology worked and before we knew it, we had started pairing off, one by one.

My particular beau was a tall, gangly, metal-mouthed, nearly albino and acne-riddled 16 year old named Chris. But he made me laugh relentlessly and that has always been the surest way to cause the illusion of having George Clooney’s arresting good looks in my eyes. So I was smitten at the start. Plus I was a sucker for the attention, even if it did come in the form of love letters that had drowned in Ralph Lauren "Polo", so I was all over going out on a date with Chris like a fat kid on a Smartie.

Since my Dad was smarting from losing out on the battle to keep me from dating until I reached my thirties, I was given a strict curfew of 10:00pm. After traveling around with Marty McFly and Doc Brown in a suped up DeLorean, Chris got me home in good time and we sat on the porch to chat while my parentals had their friends over to celebrate the arrival of yet another Friday as a fine excuse to whoop it up yet once again.

The porch was on the front of the house, which was adjoined to the living room in which my parents and all their friends were sharing a few libations. It was extremely dark outside, so Chris and I felt secluded enough to enjoy each other’s company even though we were but centimeters away from the party. We both knew where it was heading, but struggled through the awkward niceties of polite conversation first. The whole time, I was anxiously wondering how the heck that mouth full of metal was going to work in the process. And finally, it was time.

Chris leaned in; the tin leading the charge for my mouth. I “braced” myself for the kiss and after a little clumsy tilting of our heads, our lips met. There was a quiet moment in time in which I was trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. It was kind of wet, sloppy, awkward, and had a bit of a tinny after-taste. Worse yet, neither of us seemed to really know what to do with our hands. As far as I'd been led to believe, (remember, I was extremely naive since I did not have the likes of Britney Spears and Brats to help guide the way) this was supposed to be a pivotal moment that would propel me in to womanhood faster than you could say underwire, but I was still trying to get my head around it.

In the midst of some bungling attempts at creating heat where there was only pure trepidation, we heard a sound as if a baseball stadium was just lit and then in that instant, where there was once darkness, we were flooded with light.

Holding Chris in my arms, my hands touching his back and head and engaged in a full on lip lock, we both became acutely aware that we were no longer alone. Pulling away to assess what had changed, I quickly realized that my brother was standing on the porch behind us with a couple friends and holding an industrial-sized flashlight, turned on us like a spotlight from the moon above.

My senses flooded back into sharp awareness and I realized that everyone in the room next to us had not failed to observe the game of tonsil hockey that was going on beside them. And to my horror....many were having a good old fashioned belly laugh at our expense. Perhaps it was the Johnny Walker they'd enjoyed or our feeble attempts at romance, I'll never know, but I'll never forget either.

And in a slow motion fallout of what felt like hours but was more like a nano-second, Chris released himself from our embrace and ran like Forrest Gump down the street to the safety of darkness and obscurity. Left on the porch with my Irish capillaries fired up crimson red and my heart pounding in my chest, I also started to run, but it was decidedly in the direction of my brother and with the keen intent to kill or at the very, very least, to pummel and maim.

Oddly, I never did see poor Chris again. But my brother now has a much treasured story that he never fails to share given the opportunity. And even better, so do all my parent's friends.

I am lucky my first kiss did not permanently scar me, in fact, it did anything but. I seem to have been hell bent ever since to get as many do-overs as I can. Because even though that first kiss was fraught with all the clumsiness that one would expect in young teens, I have had great fun learning that it sure gets better with practice. Miles and miles better. Alpha and Omega better.

And that is what leads me to this. One of the perks not pairing off too early in life has left me with many opportunities to indulge in that awful, delicious awkwardness of a first kiss, over and over and over. There is a thrill that will never be lost on me that involves someone new and a whole set of unique and sometime surprising circumstances. (And I wonder why I'm still single?)

Oh for the love of a kiss. And there are so many kinds. There's the one where someone caresses your face just before you both lean in for that awaited first kiss. Or that kiss that takes you by surprise because you had so much interest in someone, you spent most of your time avoiding eye contact so as to not give away what you're thinking. Or even better, that kiss that follows your probing stare of desire so as to ensure that there is no misunderstanding of your intent. There's the kiss of careful exploration of a friendship taking a new direction, and the kiss of urgent and heart-pounding need. The kiss on the cheek of a dear friend that's given almost as if a wish or a promise for the future. The kiss of comfort and solace given in sympathy or understanding. The kiss given to bring you back from a nasty shock like a fall from a pedestal. Or the kiss given after a competitive situation or a fight that gives way to the fire burning inside that got you there in the first place.

But I'll never forget that metal mouth and neither will any of my parent's friends or my pesky little brother. So when it's all said and done, it's just like they say, you'll never forget your first.

I may not be very lucky in love, but I'll never regret a single first kiss since they all keep the magic of life so very alive and exciting.

I'm interested. What was your first kiss like? Was it a buss, canoodle, snog, peck or smooch? Was it hot, cold, flat, or did it leave you breathless? Perhaps the brave will share a story or two. It'd be nice to have someone entertain me for a while! ;) And here's to hoping in particular that we'll hear from some of the Y-chromosomes out there....that's a perspective that would really be enlightening.

Don't let me down, I just want your extra time and your....kiss.

Muah!

If You're Happy and You Know It....

If you're happy and you know it...hug a friend.

Apparently,...happiness truly is contagious and transmitted through contact with our social networks.

According to the British Medical Journal, in a joint study published this week by scientists from Harvard and the University of California - San Diego, one of the best predictors of our happiness is the degree to which our immediate social network is made up of happy people. Um...duh.....

Okay, admittedly, it's not something I find that surprising. It doesn't, (or at least shouldn't) take a brain surgeon to figure that out. But now that there's some science and data behind it, I'm going to completely submit to my chronically happy disposition, embrace my potentially annoying perma-grin, harness it's big ol' dimpled power and unleash a whole can of happy laughter on everyone I know.

The way I see it, I'm just going to do my part for the greater good. I'm spreading my serotonin and I'm taking no prisoners.

Consider yourself warned....I planning to infect my immediate network with a triple threat of bear hugs, boisterous laughter and giant smiles and I'm not taking no for an answer.

Cheers,
Liz

http://www.webmd.com/balance/news/20081204/happiness-is-contagious?src=RSS_PUBLIC

http://www.sciam.com/podcast/episode.cfm?id=happiness-is-contagious-08-12-05

http://www.latimes.com/features/health/la-sci-happy5-2008dec05,0,5449915.story

http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/health/chi-081204happiness,0,6297377.story

Completely Platinum with Kenny MacLean & Friends

Photo credits to Tanya Humphrey-Anthony

A somewhat tardy celebration of an unforgettable and special concert on November 21, 2008 at the MOD CLUB and of the life and music of an extraordinary man, Kenny MacLean. Apologies if the exact sequence of songs is a bit off,...my enjoyment of the show entirely trumped taking exacting notes....but the magic I describe herein is about as accurate as I could ever hope to be. It was a night I'll never forget as long as I live.

Having managed to bury my extreme embarrassment incurred when meeting the wildly talented and disarmingly warm Kenny MacLean for the first time (http://lizardm33.blogspot.com/2008/11/dont-look-back.html) , I found myself spending the better part of the week allowing the combined stresses of the financial crisis, the harsh reality of my own mini financial Armageddon, the competing demands of family, friends, a rigorous industry course load and a rather complicated romantic carte-du-jour utterly melt away into unbridled anticipation for the extraordinary night that I knew Kenny's Release Party for his new CD "Completely" would prove to be.

I could barely contain it. I made it through a week of the regular drudgery and trials with a big ol' couldn't-be-wiped-off-of-my-face-smile solely on the keen expectation that I was going to top off my week with a Completely Platinum night, and it certainly didn't disappoint. In fact, instead, it left me in awe and grateful for the chance to witness such a fantastic display of raw, visceral and gargantuan talent on stage at the MOD CLUB. It was an unequivocally thrilling and unforgettable performance on so many different levels, and that was even before an extremely sad occurrence followed that made it all so poignant, tragic and historic in one.

My 80's flashback began when Steve Anthony, known most famously (though not exclusively) for being a gregarious Much Music personality / VJ in the late 80's / early 90's, took the stage sporting shorter hair, a handsome crinkled smile and a relaxed GQ look. Gone were the days of the untamed blond mane, the casual prints and the wild antics. The new and improved Steve, exuding controlled charm and wit, invited nostalgia for the dawn of new wave and glam rock when video killed the radio star and simulaneously provoked one to admire how the blast from the past was bringing sexy back.

With an opening remark about his new and somewhat arduous role of providing limo services to his dear friend Kenny MacLean (one could tell by the give away glint in his eye how much fun he was actually having in the process), Steve broke into an introduction of the opening act, a very big favorite of yours truly, The High Rollers. Joy! After a wee bit of a delay, and possibly more bevies than I should have had for fear I'd be forced to leave at some point to attend to mother nature, it was finally show time. My boys were taking the stage, and I knew I was in for some serious fun! Mother nature be damned....I wasn't going anywhere!

The High Rollers (Denis Martel, Joe Power and Sheldon Thomas) are among the surest and most consistent things I know of. I know that without a doubt, whenever, wherever I catch them in action, it's going to be a great show and I'm going to be leaving that night in a fair amount of well-earned and excruciating pain and popping Tylenol pills like they were M&Ms as a result of some very ill-advised, but compulsory dancing of my reconstructed and tippy leg right off. But I've kept on coming back for more for close to a decade now, so you know they're worth every single minute of it.

But one of the hazards of following a band so closely is that you get to know their set pretty well off by heart. You learn every tick, every opening line, and every trick. The High Rollers have never in my life left me disappointed, anything but actually, but it was a complete thrill to show up on November 21st to be treated to a few new tricks that took their set to a whole new spectacular and electric level. I'm close to 10 years in...and I was thrilled speechless.

First, it started with the lights, surround sound and a little smoke for that added touch of mystique....a far cry from what most pubs in T.Dot offer up to their talent. Then it was up to the boys to create their own brand of magic, which they did with the welcome addition of Jason Farrar and by launching into many of my favorites from their set including "The Walrus" and a particularly charged performance of "Ace of Spades". I still haven't figured out how those thundering vocals come out of Joe, but I love every minute of it.

But just as I was getting into their familiar set, they took a turn I wasn't expecting and mixed things up a bit, and introduced to my absolute amazement and incredible elation, some dance and disco. They started their turn of direction slowly with a bang-on cover of "Personal Jesus" which I've still got in my head to this day. Then they got the younger crowd energized and risking whiplash to their head-banging heads to a powerful rendition of "Basket Case". But that's when they brought in their big guns and got the whole place moving with spectacular performances of "Staying Alive" and the closest thing I'll ever see to Queen live with "Bohemian Rhapsody". I kept thinking,..."is this the real life, is this just fantasy...?" Whatever it was, I wish time could have stood still. It was truly astounding. The band was as tight as ever and Denis even somehow managed to channel Freddie Mercury's spirit that night. I'll never forget it.

But folks, that was just the warm up, the opening act. The main event was only just now about to start. I was finding it hard to believe it could get any better, but I knew in my heart of hearts, this show was about to really take off and leave me crying out for more.

It was now that the very charming and exceptionally gifted man I had met a week prior was about to take stage. I may not have put it together who he was at the time, but as he approached the stage this particular evening, I found myself overwhelmed with excitement to see Kenny MacLean in his true element and about to do that which he was very clearly born to do...entertain the masses.

Overjoyed to re-live some of the very best musical memories of my youth and looking forward to having a sneak peak at what lay ahead, I thundered my applause of Kenny as he took the stage, drowned out only by the thundering love he received from the entire audience. It was a booming and beautiful noise and warranted in every possible way.

Kenny joined the High Rollers and launched into a positively supercharged performance of "Whole Lotta Love". Kenny was seemingly possessed with the music itself and lept from corner to corner of the stage, singing, shouting and strutting, making sure everyone could feel the full and nearly nuclear power of his performance.

After this performance, Kenny took the opportunity to chat to the audience a bit and show why it is that everyone who speaks of him speaks not only of his mammoth talent, but also of his warmth, sincerity and unyielding interest in others. Kenny shared with the audience his great excitement that his mother was in attendance along with many others from his circle of dear family and friends. He layered compliment upon compliment to The High Rollers as a band who he clearly loved playing with and counted himself lucky to befriend; from which it was extremely evident that there was much ahead for this prodigious collaboration in the future. And finally Kenny's boundless delight that his former Platinum Blonde bandmate and lead vocalist, Mark Holmes would be joining him later on was at a near fever pitch. This was a musician far less interested in his own brag-worthy accomplishments and talent than a genuinely grounded individual unfalteringly connected to his outside world.

After Kenny had spent some time thanking everyone for coming and sharing his excitement that they were there, he took a trip down memory lane and played his award winning "Don't Look Back". It was such a thrill to hear him (and me boys) play a song that has lingered in the recesses of my minds for years. It was clearly a thrill for him too, since it was no hard task to see that there was a spark in his eye giving evidence to how very much in the moment he really was. For Kenny, it seemed there was no such thing as looking back, it was all about the now and the chance to embrace every glorious minute of it.

Kenny went on to treat everyone to a few of his other amazing numbers, including "In Pieces" and "Clear". His melodies were mesmerizing and his harmonization with the High Rollers was sheer perfection. Cell phones were out in place of lighters as the audience swayed and enjoyed the softer side of Kenny for a while. And that brilliant smile of Kenny's never quit as he clearly loved every minute of it too.

Finally, Kenny also treated everyone to a sneak peak to the great things ahead on his new CD, Completely, from which he performed "Deliverance". Upon hearing this, I quickly jumped outside to the lobby to buy my own copy, only to find out that the CD was not yet available, but that it was in production. Seriously???? I had to wait??? Well, since good things come to those who wait, I took my frustrated ambitions of taking Kenny home with me in the CD player of my car and got myself immediately back inside so I could enjoy the real thing some more....this was too good to miss.

It was at this time, that Kenny almost started to jump up and down with excitement for the next set as he introduced Mark Holmes, former bandmate and dear friend to help cap off the show. When Mark took the stage, he received the same thunderous applause that greeted Kenny a short time ago.

Now the last time I'd seen Mark Holmes, he had a unruly mane of blond highlighted hair cascading over about every inch of his head and face and was leading the way for glam fashion trends with bold colours and styles. Now, a more refined, brunette Mark Holmes took the stage, dressed in a subtle but undeniably mod look with a very tailored black outfit, sporting a sharp black cardigan and looking ever slightly more like a glamed up Mr. Rogers (and yet still devastatingly handsome) than the wild child I remembered tearing up the airwaves and Much Music. But as Mark approached the microphone with an air of staunch confidence, I knew that I had nothing to worry about. He intended to deliver where it counted.

And in the very instant that the crew launched into "Standing in the Dark" I reverted back in time to that teenage girl I once was, playing her newly acquired Platinum Blonde tape in her newly acquired Walkman, over, and over, and over, and, well, you get the idea. There's a reason I had the Walkman. The parental units were a little tired of suffering me using the stereo system in the living room and dancing about in a variety of fashion crimes including leg warmers, off-the-shoulder sweatshirts and teased hair and singing as loudly as I could along with Mark, Kenny and the boys. So with peace restored in the household once again courtesy of my Walkman, I was free to listen to Platinum Blonde as much and as often as my little school-girl heart desired. At home during breakfast, on my way to school, at school, in the Principal's office for having listened to it in class, on my way home and then over to the mall with friends, back home again, during dinner and just about all night long after that or at least as long as the batteries would last. It's amazing that I didn't wear that tape out. By the way, Energizer really does keep going and going....

But I never had the chance to catch the boys live in concert, and imagine my surprise when I fast forward 20 something years, and there they were, or at least some of them were. Unbelievable both to my eyes and my ears, they were there and they were FABULOUS. With incredibly sharp sound and vocals, in tune and in sync, they were more wildly entertaining and better than I could have ever dreamed of when all I used to have to listen to them was the backwards technology of a tape on my very unsophisticated Walkman. Like a fine wine,...time has only enhanced the experience and was it EVER worth the wait.

Just when my wee school-girl heart had started to adjust to the thrills that had ensued, the place erupted with a very familiar and treasured riff from "Doesn't Really Matter". I found myself caught between sheer elation and wishing I had paid due attention to mother nature earlier, because I nearly peed with excitement as the crew were "breaking down the door". The sound was electrifying, and Kenny, Mark and the High Rollers were absolutely on fire! The climax of the number came near the end with a monumental drum feature by Sheldon Thomas, followed by Mark Holmes ripping out the final vocals of "matter, matter, matter, matter....aaaaaahhhhhh"....as only he can do. When it the song was over, a stupefied audience took a silent moment in absolute wonderment and then tore into a deafening applause in recognition of a truly astonishing performance.

The band then thanked everyone and left the stage only to be called back again by endless, ceaseless applause; the crowd screaming out "more, more". Not given to disappointing the fans, the band returned and slid into a phenomenally elegant rendition of the Psychedelic Furs' "Heaven". It was truly an ethereal end to the evening and just as I had expected earlier on....I was simply left crying out for more. Would that it never came to an end.

I have chills still just thinking about it. It is without a doubt a performance of such caliber that I will remember it for as long as I live. It was Completely Platinum.

But sadly, and tragically, it turns out that the night was also Kenny MacLean's last performance; he died the following Monday from natural causes. My only guess is that the show was so spectacular, so gargantuan, that someone upstairs decided it was time to recruit the masterful Kenny into an even bigger act. I hope they know what a special person they just acquired.

From what I understand, Kenny was enjoying an exceptionally happy time with a myriad of exciting projects in the works. As this concert had proven, there were clearly many amazing things still yet to come. But since he was taken far too soon, and before he could do all that he planned, I plan to spend a whole lot of time celebrating and enjoying the musical legacy he's left behind. What a gift he was.

I had only but a moment in his presence and somehow he left enough of a mark on me such that I am greatly saddened for the loss for someone who made a fairly shy woman feel pretty damn interesting. He was singularly unique in his ability to touch you simply with his smile that began as his eyes crinkled up and ended with a full on frontal attack of his pearly whites. The fact that he was musically gifted was really only the icing on the cake of this beautiful and engaging person.

I'll be forever grateful and somewhat baffled by that gift of kindness from Kenny, but I am mostly left with a profound sense of sympathy for the very deep loss that must be felt by those who genuinely knew him and loved him. I cannot imagine what it will be like for them and wish them all nothing but peace and joy in the knowledge that Kenny lived a very large and full life, all the while managing to do it in such a way that we can all be envious of....with joy and with passion for life and music. And somehow, he was one of the lucky ones who managed to leave this world shortly after doing something he lived and breathed for, while surrounded by his family and friends who he held so dear. If you had to go, could there be a better way? I can't imagine many and take some solace in that while imagining him playing on a much larger stage than he ever dreamed.

As for me, I'm going to celebrate Kenny's life, musical gifts and unending spirit by listening for years to come. Kenny MacLean, may you rest in peace and rock through the ages forever! Thank you for the magic!

Don't Look Back

Had an interesting experience a week ago. I went to a local pub to see one of my favorite bands, the High Rollers, and to enjoy a night of dancing and singing along with some of my fave tunes from the 60's to today. I may never fully understand it, but there is no place that I enjoy being more. When I'm out with my boys, I can feel all the layers of stress and chaos in my life melt away and I find freedom and joy as I kick up my heels on the dance floor. It's the closest thing to bliss that I know of (the obvious alternative excepted.) ;)

I ought to know. I've spent the better part of the last nine years following these guys around, and logging a colossal number of hours grateful for the chance to hear them nail fave cover after cover again as if I was listening to the original artist. They kill,...every night.

But even as I have logged all these hours and know their set off by heart, this particular evening held a new surprise. During the course of the evening, I had the opportunity to chat with someone who I've seen playing with the boys from time to time. His name is Kenny MacLean. A seriously wild man on stage, an apparent pussy cat off. He was disarmingly genuine and charming.

A friend of mine who has more pluck in her batting eyelashes than I have in my entire core, chatted up Kenny for a bit and suggested he should come as sit with us at some point in the evening. This went against every fibre of my long held personal code which dictates I must leave the musicians far, far alone. Do NOT cramp their style, do NOT impose too much fan oogling upon them, and DO either sit quietly to enjoy their mastery or get up and DANCE. With a strong emphasis on getting up and dancing. Inviting them to sit down and chat was a whole bold new world that I wasn't sure I was up for. What if they prove to be major jackasses? What if my nine plus years of enjoyment was at risk of evaporating into thin air in the instant that a musical hero turns out to be a megalomaniac?

Wow! Too bad I spent all those years worrying about the what ifs. When Kenny finally came around to chat, I was taken aback with how very unaffected, captivating and kind he proved to be. And god help me, all this with a Scottish accent. Did I die and go to heaven? And all this time, I thought for sure I was bound for a different destination in the after life. I've certainly worked hard enough at it.

In any case, Kenny seemed to be as interested in who we were as we were in him....hello???? Okay, I thought. Perhaps this multi-talented individual had no idea how amazing and special he truly was. Could be the only explanation for his warmth. And then...as if I wasn't surprised by him enough already...he looked me straight in the eyes and asked "Do I know you?". I assured him, through my sputtering shock, that we had not met before. Though as I said it, and knew it to be absolutely true, I had the strangest feeling that there was something there. I couldn't put my finger on it. But surely we had never met. I would have remembered such a man, for certain.

So we chatted a bit more, and Kenny invited us to come to his CD release party next week. How charming I thought. Always a sucker to support local artists, I said we'd be there without the tiniest hesitation. And then, in my ever embarrassing and immeasurable ignorance, and in trying to be as supportive as possible, I asked him if the CD would be his own originals. (Having watched Kenny join the High Rollers a few times now for covers of Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and Platinum Blonde, I was pretty sure that this was his first original gig). Kenny didn't flinch. He just smiled back at me, put his hands on my face and graciously said "You're so beautiful". And then he answered, "Yes, it's all originals."

Not any of the wiser yet, we agreed to show up and support him from the sidelines. Kicking up our heels and cheering him on just as we do month after month for the High Rollers. Then, when I got home, I saw that I had been fortunate enough to be invited by Denis (one of the High Rollers) to go to Kenny's CD release party via a Facebook event invitation. Awesome! That made getting the deets, location, time, etc, all very easy.... And it also, interestingly enough, had a link to a website....for Kenny MacLean. Well, I'd be foolish not to check that out and learn a little more about this new up and coming musician who I was quickly becoming a fan of.

Except, once I got there, as a few things became much clearer, I quickly became mortified at my extreme naivety. Kenny Maclean was no new up-and-coming musician. In fact, he's been haunting me my whole life and I didn't even know it. Kenny MacLean is an institution in the Canadian Music industry and actually a former member of Platinum Blonde, (doing covers with the High Rollers....rich Liz!!!) a top producer and award winning solo artist for songs that have been running through the recesses of my mind for YEARS, like "Don't Look Back. He's bloody well been a big part of the soundtrack of my life. And when he asked me if he knew me, my answer clearly should have been, "No, but I certainly know you." And I wonder why I have a severe Bridget Jones complex. Does this shit happen to anyone else?

Anyway, my lingering embarrassment aside, I have to tell you, Kenny MacLean is absolutely fabulous. He kills on stage, and he's bringing the High Rollers with him as his guests to the CD release party, and they kill every time as well. If you're in Toronto on the night of November 21st, you're going to want to check out this show at the MOD Club. I will be moving heaven and earth (and quite possibly a mountain of snow) to be there. I couldn't recommend it any higher. But I'll be sure to brag about being there later for all you tragic fools who can't make it. :) Check out Kenny's site and definitely check out his show if you're lucky enough to be in town. You won't regret it. He's the real deal. Cheers, Liz

Kenny Maclean: http://www.kennymaclean.com/index.html

The High Rollers: http://www.thehighrollers.com/

I Would, I Will

A friend and I were chatting this week and reminiscing about those magical years when ignorance was bliss and you could act your age without fear of consequence. However some of that liberty gave way to some bad behavior that we both agreed we would have modified given the wisdom and the chance to do so. But then I also got to thinking about how that same liberty also provided the room to take chances and risks that you no longer seem to find time for in your adult years once societal expectations, responsibility and just plain common sense take hold of you.

The conversation with my friend stuck with me for a while; the concept of do-overs and missed opportunities marinating and tenderizing in my brain like a New York Manhattan steak in an aromatic red wine reduction. There was something that was absolutely succulent about the concept, and something that was strangely familiar.

And then it hit me. The conversation was reminiscent of the article that Erma Bombeck wrote when facing her own impending demise: "If I Had My Life to Live Over" http://www.kalimunro.com/If_I_Had_My_Life_To_Live_Over.html

So in honour of Erma's astounding wisdom and perspective, I took the liberty to think about what I might do differently given the chance to do so. When remembering my teenage and young adult years, I hold them particularly precious as the best of times, but still somehow I just didn't appreciate them fully enough, because I didn't have the layers of perspective that only comes with age to help to heighten your sense of how good things were. And to add insult to injury, even once you have acquired all that wisdom and you're a full grown, responsibility-riddled adult, you still find that you forget to find the right time or excuse to do those things that could only serve to make life richer.

Given the chance, and with an allowance for a tongue-in-cheek reference back to several of my past blogs, I think my list would go something like this, with full apologies to Erma Bombeck for they pale in comparison to the flame that she lit:

• I would have behaved like a child and enjoyed childhood longer instead of racing to the future. Nobody told me about the bills I'd have to pay.


• I would have done my homework and assignments before the deadline passed. There was always something else I wanted to do more once I was in crunch mode.


• I would have worn sunscreen. My "smile" lines may not be quite so indicative of my lifetime of laughter.


• I would have stuck with my music lessons. How else better to torture my neighbours?


• I would have taken dance lessons, so I would have tortured my friends less.


• I would have treated many relationships with a great deal more care and recognized how precious and instrumental each one has been in shaping who I've become. Even the freakazoids can help you to better define what it is you're looking for (or what to especially avoid).


• I would have nurtured romantic dreams less and worked harder towards obtaining real and tangible goals, like diamonds and real estate!
  


• I would have learned earlier on to trust my instincts, that way, I may have kissed more Princes and fewer frogs, and have become a best-selling novelist rather than just another schlep on the street.


• I will buy myself more flowers, and take time to smell the fressia. Carnations be damned.


• I will be better at staying in touch with my friends when I move; they come in handy each time it happens.


• I will manage my money a whole lot better, as must pay those damn bills that no one mentioned when I was a child.
  


• I will take more chances and actively pursue adventures starting with sky diving. And if I live after that, then I may even try swimming with the sharks too. Can't be as tough as swimming with the ones that I have on Bay Street.
  


• I will travel more, and extensively. How else will I live the dream of a Prince in every port?


• I will be a whole lot more gregarious and risk people paying attention. How else will Matthew McConaughey ever find me?
  


• I wear a lot more red and a lot more skirts. Both very useful when Matthew McConaughey finally finds me.


• I will NO LONGER save that fine wine for a special occasion, but instead make an occasion special because of the fine wine.
  
  
• I will ALWAYS make time for cheesecake....because it makes life taste sooo sweet.
  


• But most of all, I will play more, laugh more, hug more, kiss more and love more. And not just with Matthew McConaughey. :)
  

So how about you? What's going to make your list of do-overs or new resolutions for a life filled with laughs and rich memories? I'd love to make a special occasion of reading your thoughts while I enjoy them with a fine glass of wine.

Cheers,
Liz

An Olive by an Other Name

What exactly is an olive branch?

A friend of mine told me that she recently reached out to someone who was very special to her, to try to close the chasm between them after a really big disagreement caused them to lose touch. So, against her natural inclination to save face, she sent out a peace offering via a flirty little text message and called it an olive branch. The only problem with that was her friend, unfamiliar with the term, called her back later to find out what the heck an olive branch was.

But the point is, he called. Just as she had hoped he would. In the end, he was happy to receive any kind of invitation to renewing a lost romance. And she was more than happy that he accepted it.

So, does it really matter what it's called or even how it's delivered? It could have been a white flag, it could have been a letter sent with a hint of perfume. It could have been anything at all, so long as the sender and recipient both wanted a way out of the stalemate. It seems to me that an olive by any other name, still tastes as sweet.

The same thing just happened to me in a way. I met someone several months ago who I felt an instant spark with. That elusive X-factor if you will. It's a long story that remains utterly unbelievable even to me, but it involves me caught in the middle of a misdemeanor, some Tim Horton's coffee and digits handed over in lieu of an otherwise just fine to fit the crime. But as chance would have it, despite exchanging numbers and staying in touch, it was not meant to be because we both had timing issues and previous commitments. As time passed, we chatted less and less and the spark burned into a cinder that was barely perceptible. I eventually found myself chalking the chance meeting up to a very happy accident and expected nothing more than to be able to look back upon it fondly.

But fast forward six months later, no longer entangled in any commitments, but too pathetic to reach out to my guardian angel for fear that I might have been forgotten, I had given up any hope that the spark could re-ignite. Then somehow, on a Friday night, as I was sitting at home, in my laundry-day sluff wear with my hair pulled back in a raggedy pony tail and looking like I had wandered out of the woods, spending my evening cramming for a test and feeling sorry for myself for not being out living la vide loca somewhere, that's when the surprise happened. Just like the olive branch I had heard about earlier, my cell phone gave way to a tell tale buzzzzzzzz of an incoming text message. Quite certain that it was a text from one of my very dear friends telling me exactly how much fun I was missing somewhere, my jaw dropped and time stood still when I read the following simple but fantastic message: "Hey stranger, how have you been?".

Having devoured the likes of Shakespeare, Robbie Burns and countless other fellow high priests of prose, I am quite certain that these words were not the most musical, the most poetic, or the most expertly crafted, but at the very same time, these may have been the sweetest and the most exciting words I have read...in a very long time. And I grasped that olive branch that was handed out towards me without thought or hesitation and wrote my own little flirty response involving a faux apology for a disappearing act due to a misdemeanour gone terribly wrong without a guardian angel around to set it right.

And as I sit here and type this, enjoying a small plate of olives and all the sweet joys that they promise, I eagerly look forward to my chance to reconnect with an angel sometime next week and all the sweet fruit that may follow.

Être dans le Besoin

Mon lapin, mon petit chou, mon trésor,
Tu me manques.
Mais, j'ai eu de te dire au revoir.
Je pense á toi toujours, mais je ne peux pas jamais te dis.
L'amour est une oiseaux rebelle que nul ne peux appriovoiser.
Je n'ai jamais recontre quelqu'un comme toi.

J'ai besoin tes yeux brilliant.
J'ai besoin tes lèvres.

J'ai besoin de tes bras.

J'ai besoin de tes baisers.
J'ai besoin de te tenir dans mes bras.
J'ai besoin de te sentir contre moi.
J'ai besoin de faire les choses risqué á toi. ;)

Mon petit loup, c'est toi que je besoin beaucoup.
Qu'est-ce que tu as besoin?

(I'm quite sure I've absolutely butchered a beautiful language here, but nothing else but French would suffice. My apologies to the French everywhere).

So This is What Love Is

A week ago today, despite the fact that I am closing in far to quickly on my forties, I have only just now learned something about what it really feels like to love. Or at least a whole new kind of love. Because a week ago today, I saw my beautiful new nephew's face for the first time. And even though we are separated by thousands of miles, and all I could see was his sweet face on my cell phone at first, a base instinct kicked in upon sight and told me it was something altogether new, special and previously unknown to me. True Love.

And in my immense gratitude for the infinite blessings that life has just graced my family with, I find myself making promises to every untold spirit who cares to listen of eternal commitment and fierce, unwavering love towards that wee soul who is really only yet able to smile on account of a big gas movement within it's belly. What am I going to do with myself when he can smile on account that you just made him happy??? I have a sneaking suspicion that this is a whole lot bigger than anything I've ever encountered. I'm in for a wild ride here.....but God help me, I'm signing up for it whole heartedly! Bring it! Baby cake, I'm yours.