More Radio
Saturday, September 16 2000
Posted by brockp
More Canadian college stations report airplay for Second Choice. In addition to light rotation at CKDU (Halifax, NS) and CFBU (St.Catherines, ON), the CD is in its second week on the CIOI (Hamilton, ON) "off-chart", climbing from #60 to #58, and its third week in the top 30 at CCRS (Sudbury, ON) holding at #24.

Radio Update
Saturday, September 9 2000
Posted by brockp
The number of stations to air Second Choice increases to 6 in Canada. Following CKMS in Kitchener/Waterloo, other stations to report airplay include CHYZ (Ste. Foy, QC); CHRW (London, ON); CIBL (Montreal, QC); CFCR (Saskatoon, SK) and CJSR (Edmonton, AB).

Brock has been working out a live presentation of the songs with Diesel
Candy guitarist, Jamie Duquette. The two will be auditioning a few more bass players and hope to confirm a touring lineup in a week or two.

Bumbershoot, recycling, and my left eye
Friday, September 1 2000
Posted by brockp
Well, today was the first day of Bumbershoot. It was also nearly the last day for my left eye. I was taking out the garbage this morning and when I got to the dumpster I found to my surprise that there was a brand new blue recycling bin in the enclosure opposite the crusty smelly brown one for non-recyclables. Considering the other recycling bins have been so full they've been piled high in the air with only medium grade recyclable stuff and plenty of garbage mixed in, I was quite happy, and even spoke to the rather self-conscious garbage collectors who happened to be doing their rounds at our spot when I went out. I felt like telling one of them he looked like Rickey Henderson but figured he would probably consider it a racial slur.

I went back into the apartment again to get the accumulated baby food and juice jars in double brown paper bags at the top of the stairs. Coming back to the new blue bins I was reminded of my major pet peeve with poorly or improperly prepared or just plain not recyclable stuff. Already baptising the new bin was a big cardboard box full of styrofoam chips, some sort of folded up polyetylene sheeting, and some other plastic bags of garbage - Safeway bags with empty cat food cans and such. I am unable to deal with this stuff and am self-righteously motivated to start sorting and sifting through it, making the recyclables really recyclable and tossing the cat food tins (sorry, unwashed) into the brown just emptied dumpster opposite. Making more room in the still roomy and mostly empty new bin, I now noticed the dirty pesto jar rolling around on the bottom. I look at the side of the bin with huge instruction stickers on the side in duplicate and lots of big red letters reading, "No Glass". I climb into the nice new blue recycling bin and get it to add to the garbage. Sorry, I'm not going to bring it into my place to wash it and then put it into the glass bin - dumpster away !

Feeling satisfied and enjoying my neighbourly helpfulness, I go to the mentioned glass bin. It is so brand new that it smells of fresh pressed plastic and has little blue pellets on the bottom left over from the factory. Our baby food jars go in, gently but very noisily. Next i straighten up, turn, and bend quickly to grab the other bag of glass and BAM!! smash my head on the protruding metal knob which the truck grabs the bins by for lifting when full. Instinctively and very very quickly, my palm covers my eye and eyebrow and I lean against the glass bin in darkness breathing in, breathing out, feeling the dull ache and black pulse spread accross my face. Pain wash dissolving into dull tingles. Breathing in, breathing out, I slowly relax. It has been a tough morning - yelling and fighting with Heather. Still eyes shut after about 45 seconds i am fearing the worst and not relieved to feel wetness on my palm. That means I'm bleeding. Palm still over eye, I deal with remaining glass, close lid and walk into the apartment upstairs. Breathing in, breathing out.

Fortunately, Heather is a nurse. She is lying down doing a different kind of nursing when I come in. Clem is latched on but 80% asleep and she is resting beside him, her breast stretched to the side, nipple still in his jaws.

She takes care of me. We put a frozen banana inside a red bandana on my forehead. It seems there is some logic to the design of the human head and face. The eye socket bones of the skull protect my eye from being smashed by a big metal bar. It seems like mostly soft tissue injured although I don't really know about the white colour where the blood shows through the hairs on my eyebrow. Maybe a bone piece chipped off. Maybe its just the tissue with no blood circulating there at the moment. The banana feels good. I am relieved of some heavy anger from this morning and feel sad. I sob a little with grief and relief. I get a bandage after 15 minutes and a few washes with a washcloth. We decide not to go see Barry Brown our doctor.

I look like a ruffian and my eyebrow is swelling up. We pack some lunch.

Clem wakes up and reminds me how I hurled a container of yogourt at the wall this morning, spattering to the ceiling with strawberry soy. He touches my bandage. He says, "Ban-dave ona eye bow. Godda ban-dave ona my eye bwow," and I tell him I bonked my head. He replies, "Big bonk. Papa bonka da eye bow."

We get into the van and go downtown "to see da big moosic". Gladys, the parking goddess, blesses us with a space a couple of blocks from one of the entrances to Bumbershoot. There is still a half hour on the meter.