Eastside Culture Crawl

A pint of Guinness and a wee Jameson's with a tiny bit of ice a couple of Monday nights later... "What is my photograph doing on your cell phone?" Kiku Hawkes asks Uli. "Do you know this guy?" Uli answers with another question... and there some 30 years later am I.





Two boxes of beautifully hand tinted prints from this time and this series are produced with instruction to sit and look through them. "Oh you're just doing the Nina Raginsky thing, people said. But I wasn't --  it was about the neighbourhood!" A print I remember well of Paul Kinsella in a large stuffed chair pouring on the charm... Kitchen workers, artists, Tak Kee waitresses. It seems like only yesterday... An instant and delightful reconnection with Kiku and the neighbourhood.

At the 505 space where we had our Camerawork Graphics twentysomethings for the most part feigned interest that I was the first tenant 30 some years before and "I painted this floor! That's still the same paint!" Uh huh.... One very nice very large canvas of an Airstream...

300 studios, 400 artists, something like that. Critical mass, a lot of crafty mediocrity of course but some stunning stuff like David Robinson's bound and tortured almost comic Buddha on a horse.

Myra's pics from the Crawl:

http://photoshare.shaw.ca/view/3941081249-1291327090-74266/0

"You look familiar -- I've seen you somewhere before. Oh, I know. Barcelona!" Jessie McNeil in her dad's studio on East Georgia showing work and there's a lot of red dots on display and I'm treated to a very welcome cup of chamomile tea. Young artists like Jessie also doing such interesting work in new media.

From the warm recently empty nest on Charles Street we walk to the WISE Hall where the people we had met just hours before in their galleries were in line with us for beers and Simon was conducting a band of people who we had also just met in their studios... "The last time I saw you", says I to Donald MacDonald," we were standing by the ocean in Prince Edward Island having a taste of Cape Breton single malt at Jim and Susie's." He was happy to hear news of Anna and baby Simone and said he saw her just last summer.

PARKER STREET STUDIOS

David Robinson

Stephen Pollock

GEORGIA JACKSON STUDIOS

Taralee Guild

Rachel Ashe

Jessie McNeil

Kiku Hawkes

Chaotic Ana

Chaotic Ana, Spain 2007, Julio Medem director.

Watched on mubi.com. Story moves ambitiously from Ibiza to Madrid to Manhattan to Pueblo adobe villages in New Mexico. Following a reincarnation metaphor for the most part successfully as our young wild child awakens and discovers the world and herself.

The Secret in their Eyes

Nov 26: The Secret in their Eyes 2009, Argentina/Spain
Juan José Campanella, director.
Seeking closure on troubled memories, Benjamin, a retired legal innvestigator in contemporary Buenos Aires, is writing a novel about a brutal unsolved murder that he worked on during the corrupt and chaotic military dictatorship of the 70s and about his own unrequited love for Irene, the young lawyer -- now a judge -- he worked for at the time. The result is a spellbinding combination of mystery, romance, and historical memory -- along with three unforgettable performances and one of the most thrilling chase sequences in cinema history. No wonder it won an Oscar for Best Foreign Film of the year. 

Collioure, France

Collioure in Languedoc-Roussillon

Barcelona -- Plaza de Catalunya

PlazanulldenullCatalunya in barcelona

Hotel Telegrafo, Parc Centrale, Teatro National, Capitolio

NationalnulltheaternullCnulloldnullmovienullhousenullCnullandnullthenullCapitol in havana-cuba

Agramonte Av Havana

Ancient cars on Agramonte in Havana

Barcelona: la Rambla 360 degrees

Barcelona 2008 Barcelona 4e in Barcelona

Barcelona 2008 Barcelona 4c in Barcelona

Norman McLaren 1972 Ballet Adagio

A Headless Woman

Nov 19: A Headless Woman 2008, Argentina/France/Italy/Spain,  Lucrecia Martel, director.

A sickening thud as Vero drives the lonely country road in the rain. Had she hit something -- a dog? a child? Traumatized, she checks in at a motel, a hospital, and eventually home where all the men in her life conspire to convince her nothing ever happened. In this elegant and enigmatic puzzle Martel offers a disturbing picture of class privilege and willful denial that could serve as a larger metaphor for Argentina's recent history. Every shot holds crucial information. "The more closely you study The Headless Woman, the deeper, the deeper and more unsettling the mystery becomes." -- Stephen Holden, New York Times.

Cowichan Valley Pinot Noir on Quadra Island

Godfrey-Brownell 2005 Pinot Noir 
New world style.  The first Pinot Noir we put into new oak barrels. 2005 was a good year for Pinot and this wine is currently being aged in the bottle and will be released when the tannins are a little softer and the fruit even more integrated. Notes from the winery website gbvineyards.com 
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On our recent Cowichan Valley tour when John was visiting I bought a bottle of this just released Pinot Noir at the winery. 30 bucks -- 4 years in oak, 1 in the bottle and a delight. The Cowichan microclimate has produced pretty decent Pinot Gris' and I'd heard rumours of impressive Pinots but this was a very pleasant surprise.

It made its way to our getaway to Quadra Island earlier this week where it met up with bar-b-qued steak with sauteed mushrooms....
Classic leathery aromas and nicely acidic flavours suggesting the blackberry, raspberry you'd expect in a good Pinot Noir.

Summer Wine

September 15, 2010

Ah, irony... this is one of those times during the year when it becomes necessary to dry old Frank out. Which leaves me with time on my hands. Here's some summer favourites:

Villa Maria Private Bin Pinot Noir 2007 Beppi in the Globe: "...has a classic pinot core of raspberry jam and beetroot carried on a silky light- to medium-bodied frame."  $23.95 in BC. New Zealand Pinot. Standout. You seldom run in to the really fine Pinot's. Never take a chance without a recommendation. This is among the 3 or 4 best I've tasted: from California South-Central Coast, Oregon Willamette Valley, Chile Casablanca Valley (Casas del Bosque -- heavenly one year and acidic and without the trademark berry flavours the next), even our own Okanagan once every something like 5 years. There's a quote from a high profile California winemaker that he once made a great Pinot Noir and has no idea how he did it.  Reference: The Heartbreak Grape: A Journey in Search of the Perfect Pinot Noir by Marq Devilliers

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/food-and-wine/beppi/high-v-low-wines/article1691421/#comments

SEGURA VIUDAS - BRUT RESERVA One of the things Myra brought back from Spain was a fairly serious Cava habbit. Under control I think in that it shouldn't need a full fledged intervention. This Cava is on a lot of lists of best values. It's about $15. Cava is made in the tradition Champagne method (bottle fermentation creating finer bubbles that lift the aromas)

ORVIETO CLASSICO - MELINI This long time favourite is my choice for glass (or three) of wine in the Muskoka chair on the terrace. A suggestion of clover honey. Used to  be under $10 which also endeared it to me. A subtle sipper -- trebianno from the vineyards nearest the village of Orvieto. There's also a Rufino Orvieto Classico which has a bit of a pungent flavour maybe from too long on the skin and stems which I don't care for. The 09s are on the shelves now which is pretty young but won me over. The 08 was especially nice I thought and interestingly if you came across a 07 when there were a few left, it would also have a bit of that pungent thing... best young.

SAUVIGNON BLANC - SANTA RITA 120 Myra's vote for best sipper and this is a serious food wine.. lemon lime, this is not wine with training wheels... Beppi: "Sauvignon Blanc...  also is a great source of cabernet's white relative (parent vine, actually), and Santa Rita 120 Sauvignon Blanc is a standout value. Herbaceous, and zesty and plump with citrus-tropical fruit, this fresh, light-bodied white is good for shellfish, lighter vegetable dishes such as poached asparagus, and even a variety of cheeses. Runner-up: Les Fumées Blanches from France, a whiff of delicate, elegant Sancerre at about half the price.

YECLA - CASTANO LA CASONA 2007 At $9.50 this may be the biggest bargain ever at the LCB.  Truly an amazing value. "A terrific red with earthy, European guts, it tastes like it was handcrafted rather than blended in a factory. And it's under 10 bucks! For connoisseurs who follow the numbers, I'm heartened to report that it scored 89 out of 100 points in Robert Parker's hugely influential Wine Advocate newsletter and received 88 points from Stephen Tanzer, another American who is no slouch at the spittoon. That's remarkable arithmetic for a wine that sells for so little… Though the wine has bright berry flavours and a hint of sweet oak, don't expect fruit-bomb character along the lines of many inexpensive Australian shirazes. This medium-bodied red has “Europe” stamped boldly on its rump, with impressive layers of licorice, violet and herbs. The texture, though relatively smooth, ends with a satisfying tug of acidity.” - Beppi Crosariol, Globe And Mail, 100% old vines monastrell (mourvedre) from the Spanish east coast district of Yecla.

CHATEAU de SERAME Flavours of the Languedoc and fond memories of our explorations in the area last fall. This is one of the primo apellations in an area famous for vast quantities of tanker wine. Corbieres another. This 2007 reserve du chateau 50% mourvedre , 38% grenache, 12% carignan was terrific: had this authentic quality from the crystals in the bottom to the dynamite complex flavours. Soooo good. The real deal.

Minervois A staple of Parisian brasseries, Minervois wine comes from a prime district of the sunny, southern Languedoc-Roussillon region. Usually blended from red varieties such as carignan, grenache, syrah and mourvèdre, it's hearty and often brimming with spiciness and the wild-herb essence the French call garrigue. 

COSTERS DEL SEGRE CHARDONNAY ALBARINO - RAIMAT 06/07  White wine made from the albarino grape was a favorite in Spain.    The only albarino we've found in the stores here is this chardonnay albarino blend. Distinctive characteristics marked acidity, terrific food wine when a sauvignon blanc isn't the thing.

Pavillon Arnaud 2008 Minervois

Pavillon Arnaud 2008 Minervois. Raspberry, herbes de provençe and blackberry dominate the nose of this southern French wine. Made from a blend of Syrah and Mourvèdre, it’s a great accompaniment to quail, squab or other game bird. Says the LDB. Good price too at $13.99. From the Minervois Appellation in the Languedoc where we were last fall. Black tea steeped too long dryness. Old world wine. 

A Prophet

Nov 12: A Prophet 2009, France, Jacques Audiard director.
Winner of the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes and mulitple Césars, Audiard's prison film is harsh, graphic, but ultimately redemptive. Malik, an illiterate Franco-Arab, and only 18 years old, is imprisoned for 6 years. Unprotected and alone, Malik must negotiate a life in prison, caught between the hostile Corsican and Muslim cons. Malik learns to read and write but, forced into a Mafia organization to survive, he becomes involved in the drug world, exploited by César, the Corsican prison mobster. A provactive, documentarist film, A Prophet has generated much attention to prison life. Violence!! 


Here's the best thing about the movie: Jimmie Dale Gilmour's Mac the Knife playing over the closing scene. I never could figure why this guy didn't become a bigger deal.

There's something wrong with this thing.  French sophistication and arrogance in the way of the thing touching down. TV's Sopranos has more to say about power and its structures in anarchic ethnic environments. A brutal system moulds a brute. Heard this story before I think. Oooh, but he cuddles a baby so he can't be all bad (and he just kills bad guys after all) so we're asked to have some sympathy for another psycho.  Prison in the South of France inhabited by Muslims on one side, Corsicans on the other. No explanation why there's no not-ethnic French prisoners. Marseilles is nearby. This prison would have a few French gangsters in it, no?

Friday Night Film Class

Alternative Cinema Series -- Fall 2010 VIU

Organized by and notes supplied by 

Shirley Goldberg and Ron Bonham

Sept 24: Boats Out of Watermelon Rinds 2004, Turkey, Ahmet Ulucay, director.

Charming and comical film about the power of amateur spirit and imagination. Recep, a teen-aged boy who is apprenticed to the local Happy Watermelon Man, and his best friend Mehmet, apprenticed to a not-so-happy barber, are enamoured of the cinema. Collecting old, discarded film reels, they try to show them through a homemade projector in a community that lacks electricity!! Recep also has a fantasy about dating a rather uppity town-girl on his way to becoming a successful filmmaker!! Shot with a digital camera, Boats is a simple, amateur-feeling film very in tune with its subject matter. Winner of Best Turkish Film of the year, it has the wonders of small town rhythms that have beguiled audiences world-wide.

Ron Bonham said here was 2 of his favourite things: film and Turkey and told of his travels through the country and sketched some of the themes: regional cultural differences, rural/urban tensions. Much is made by a customer who samples watermelons and says he'll be back to buy some (he doesn't) as to their origin within Turkey. He'd much preferred they came from another district nevermind it's pointed out to him by the Happy Watermelon Man (his happiness fades as the film progresses) that "it's all the same country". There's a scene of clandestine walnut eating by the young lovely that Recep loves that should come with a "restricted" warning. Tasty.

Oct 1: Revanche 2008, Austria, Gotz Spielmann, director.

Delicious revenge thriller, filmed with consummate skill and precision. Alex, an ex-con, gets caught up in a botched robbery. Determined to escape, he retreats to his grandfather's farmhouse, only to find that the cop, Robert, who intervened in the robbery, lives with his wife close by. The desaturated colours, the sound of the axe as Alex splits wood on the farm, and Alex's uncertain motives and tortured soul add up to a very uneasy tension. What, if any, is the course of his revenge? But when we enter into Robert's life and his disturbed character and his troubled marriage, Revanche takes up twists and turns which transform the thriller into a complex, unpredictable moral tale. Multiple award winner, Berlin Festival.

"You know what your problem is?" Alex's gangster boss says. "You're too soft. You think you're tough but you're not." Alex is his own worst enemy and you should look away from his train wreck but you just can't. Similarly Robert the cop is far too sensitive for police work and he's not man enough for the misses either... Great performance by Ursula Strauss. She delivers more than what's on the page (and there's lots on the page). You have to buy into her actions and the motives for them and you do happily. No music soundtrack. Ambient sound of leaves rustling and wood chopping and long reflective scenes left standing just long enough to create a powerful atmosphere. Similarities with themes in Stephen Frear's 2002 Dirty Pretty Things. Audrey Tautou, Chiwetel Ejiofor.

Oct 8: The White Ribbon 2009, Austria/Germany/France/Italy, Michael Haneke, director.

Palme d'Or winner! In a puritanical, patriarchal village in Northern Germany on the eve of World War One, a series of unexplained incidents -- some accidental, some clearly acts of malice take place. As the young village schoolteacher narrates the story years later in a mock legendary mode, we gradually sense the climate of fear and suspicion that the not so innocent, tow headed children and their often appalling parents inhabit. A.O. Scott of the New York Times calls it "a veritable theme park of patriarchal abuse" -- replete with guilt, envy, repression, secrecy and hostility. In contrast to the grim culture, the cinematography is in ravishing,  hyperreal black and white. We may never find answers to the questions raised by the incidents that unfold, but we are encouraged to draw a connection to what happens in Germany two decades later.

What a twisted gothic wee thing this is. Long black Calvinist overcoats and dresses in rural village suffocating under the cold eye of the Baron land-owner filmed in a dream-like black and white. A very dark study of tensions erupting from just below the surface of repression and abuse in Calvinist Northern Germany. Portents of Nazism and later the Baader Meinhof urban guerrillas of the the 1970s and 80s.

Oct 15: Mother 2009, South Korea, Joon-Ho Bong, director.

A powerful drama about a mother's determination to nurture and protect her son in a hostile world. Mother, a quiet and relentless dynamo, turns detective when her 28 year old son, Do-Jun, a young man of marginal intelligence, is implicated in a murder. Mother (who remains nameless, defined only by her role) is a poor, powerless herb seller, so she must do all the leg work herself. Driven partially by guilt stemming from an early incident with Do-Jun, she must find out who committed the murder. Did he do it or not? Directed by Bong (The Host), this film, full of deception and revelation, is handled with consummate control and artistry. Multiple award-winner, including Best Film at Asian Film Fest 2008. Some violence!

Tinny and contrived everything telegraphed. Big concept little magic. Mechanical acting. The instructors were on about how closely the story board drawings matched the final filmed scenes a la Hitchcock ... that's nice. Dude wanted to be a cartoonist/graphic novel-ist. That's nice. 

Oct 22: The Country Teacher 2008, Czech Republic, Bohdan Slama, director.

Award winner at Stockholm and Czech Lions Festivals. The Country Teacher follows the story of Petr, a quiet distant man who leaves Prague to teach natural science at a country school, leaving a secret behind. Befriending Marie and her university-aged son, Lada, Petr helps out with farm chores. As Marie becomes increasingly attracted to Petr, Petr becomes increasingly attracted to Lada, who is, in turn, deeply involved with girlfriend problems!! A subtle, well-acted film, The Country Teacher reveals interesting, even disturbing, dilemmas as Petr tries to find his place in the world given his character and sexual orientation. 

Skipped class. JT visiting and the day spent touring the Cowichan Valley from Maple Bay and Cowichan Bay on the east coast of the island across to Shawnigan Lake and Cobble Hill. Stopped to talk to First Nations guys lined up on a bridge over the Cowichan River. They were fishing for salmon using spears. Seriously. If I understand it right there are some First Nations only fisheries where they can't use rod and hook and net. Very friendly young chap explained how it worked and he had what was I think the only fish caught that day. Sockeye run is over and this was a chinook(?) The 2004 Godfrey Bonell Pinot Noir sampled at the winery and a bottle made it back home. Home for pizza via the Crow & Gate.

Oct 29: The Baader-Meinhof Complex 2009, Germany/France/Czech Republic, Uli Edel, director.

A pulsing, fictional recreation of Germany in the 70s with the radicalized children of the Nazi generation, whose curdled idealism led to bank robberies, bombings, kidnappings, and assassinations . Amid a huge cast, the standouts are Andreas Baader, the hipster who really got off on nihilistic violence; Gudrun Esslin, the zealot; Ulrike Meinhof, the respected journalist who took the existential plunge; and Horst Herold (the incomprable Bruno Ganz), the top law enforcement officer who brings sanity to the whole issue of dealing with terrorism. Yes, the story contains violence, but it is also a fascinating, insightful, and must-see episode of history that many of use remember vividly.

Contains the 2 most important elements of the formula that makes a great movie: bare naked ladies and lots of stuff blowing up. Two and a half hours but moves along at a pretty good pace.  It tells this history in -- as the notes supplied suggest -- a balanced and objective way. The discussion after the film from both the instructors and the audience members however insisted on romanticizing these middle class narcissistic sociopathic brats ("No, Donny, there's no threat here... these people are just nihilists", says Walter in The Big Lebowski.) Lineage to Al Qaeda, says Shirley. Blow up the newspapers would be a good place to start says Ron. The Republic of Ireland wouldn't exist today if it wasn't for a brutal, violent urban guerrilla warfare against the British. Not all that many people killed here though relative to deaths in Palestine, Viet Nam, etc. Therefore we should sympathise apparently.

Laila's Birthday

Nov 5: Laila's Birthday 2008, Palestine, Tunisia, Netherlands, Rashid Masharawi director.

In this dark, urban comedy Ubu Laila, a dignified unemployed judge, is an enormously overqualified taxi driver. As he sets out to work in the morning, his wife reminds him to buy a present and a cake for their daughter's seventh birthday. The request sounds simple enough but in Ramallah -- where the chaos, frustrations and absurdities of life are magnified by the Israeli occupation, by checkpoints on land, helicopters overhead, the occasional bomb and demented donkey -- none of the ordinary rituals of life are easy.


Missed this one. It was a dark and stormy night. Stayed home by the fiireplace and gave the new film website Mubi.com a try. Good, informative database. Good background info and cross referencing. Focus on "art" films. Some for streaming. Some free, shorts for $1, full length features for $3. Cable to the tv and a couple of computer speakers hooked up and it's full screen with half decent sound.
A
Introduction to French director Agnès Varga and her 1985 film Vagabond. Varga has directed nearly 50 films and co-wrote the Last Tango in Paris screenplay. 

A lost soul wanders the South of France in winter. Used and abused and maybe the cruelest twist of fate: she's her own worst enemy. "That's not wandering, that's withering," says the back to the land goat herder who tries to help her. Terrific performance by Sandrine Bonnaire -- Best Actress César 1986. Very fine. Eager to see another Varga.

6. Back to Dublin the Kinsella's in Bray and Home

BACK TO DUBLIN AND A VISIT WITH THE KINSELLA'S IN BRAY

It rained. Great buckets and splashes down my back. A hundred cars passed me. None with any passengers. They slowed down. Some waved. None picked me up.

Trains and buses are expensive here but I've had it with hitch-hiking. I walked over 2 miles back into Skibereen and paid $5 for a 60 mile bus ride.

While Rockefeller investigates the CIA and destroys Teddy Kennedy while absolving the CIA.

Cork. The train tomorrow to Dublin. Bray and home. Soon. I'm tired and have been abusing this delicate wee tummy.

Today wasn't part of my holiday. I had adapted so well to pure survival that I came to with a start and a shiver in a coffee shop up out of my newspaper an hour ago.

Craziness on that magical island and an irate warden kicking us up and out of bed at dawn for waking him at 1:00 by b&e'ing his hostel. The bus to Cork. And here now and maybe a pint of Murphy's at Bridge Street with a woman from Australia who I met on Cape Clear.

Rocking side to side on the train to Dublin. A very well dressed clean-shaven man sits diagonally from me looking out the window, occasionally a piercing scream imitating the whistle and brakes.

And the Irish Times. Some purpose and integrity. There are personal experiments with style within its reportage. A commitment to civil rights. A frequent anti-gaurda slant. The best wire coverage outside the New York Times. And a history of supporting some of the best Irish writers. Brendan Behan, Myles nCopaleen. But strange, really twitty "formula" film critics. Self-important. Intellectual.

BRIGITTE AND BRIGITTE

Without too much trouble I get over to Grafton Street, reconfirm my flight home, order a couple of books, drag my pack through the crowd at Bewley's for lunch of plaice a huge piece of chocolate cake and up here to the sunshine in St. Stephen's Green. Slept poorly last night in the noise of Cork and am still recovering from the train ride. Today in Dublin and a night in the hostel where I'll leave my stuff tomorrow while I go to Bray. I'm sure I see among the sunbathers Brigitte who I met a couple of weeks ago in McDaid's. I'll go see.

It was and a friend whose name is also Brigitte. Between us we sort of threw a language together and had a very nice chat, interrupted only once -- by a greasy young Irish kid lying nearby rolling over and trying to slip his hand into one of their purses. She beat him  severely with her eyes and we moved away. We trade travelling stories and talked about Quebec. The friend had just finished a childcare course, hates Paris and will move away from there as soon as she can. She lived in Germany for 2 years and liked it much better.

I finally find the hostel on Morehampton Road -- after several bum steers -- and by the time I'm to meet Brigitte and Brigitte at McDaid's they were gone. So I had one by myself then went for a walk. Through the very impressive Trinity College. An oasis of Greek architecture and rough stone roads. Green lawns and magnificent trees. Located Tara Street train station from where I'll go to Bray to meet the Kinsella's.

This hostel will do nicely -- it even has showers -- until it's time to catch my flight home. Dublin-Shannon-New York-Toronto-Vancouver.

And now my last evening. A day of some walking and shopping and pleasure at being able to get around this city (and pleasure that I don't have to stay and try to support myself here). A shower. The most wonderful refreshing thing. And a very beautifully bound and set copy of Ulysses. A present to me. Wishing me all the best.

BRAY AND HOME

Putting in time. At this point I am ready and eager to go home. Later I'll scratch my last Irish currency together to see if I have enough for the bus to the airport, as well as a last pint in McDaid's.

A day after meeting the Kinsella family. Family situations always make me feel that I'm chained to a seat at a Pinter play that I don't want to see.

I hoped there'd be nobody home. There was. It took only a few minutes for the teenage daughter Leigha to collect me at the train station. High energy and a brain three sizes too large. Talk and talk and talk. Beautiful energy of the other 2 kids now living at home too -- out of a family of 8 kids. Charming small talk, giggles, performance. It's a little too intense but is all made to make you feel at home. The mother a mother like any other and the mirror of my own. She sat very properly and grinned so sweetly. "Ah, and isn't it sad when families move apart. Ah, poor Paul. It was a misunderstanding between him and me, I think. He wanted to go to university so badly." And is his hair long and does he have a beard? "Well, you know the daddy didn't have a very good job then and we couldn't afford..."

The remains of decades lined the walls in the way of books and prints. A family portrait. Eight kids. Sport among the 3 youngest was to sort through and share stories of Great Fights of the 
Family, when one hit the other for insulting the other. 'Round and 'round. The incidences are laughed off and those concerned remembered affectionately.

Father finally arrives. This Pinter play was written especially for me. An Irish good natured slap on the back, shoot the shit, and make you feel like you're an alright guy. Feels so good to be an alright guy. Jokes too numerous to not be pointed about people who don't work. Scorn at the Tinkers and out and out patronization when young Mark tells about what good handball players some of them are.

On the off chance that a certain wailing one-year-old has gone into the terminal, I'll hazard this disgusting musak and suffer through the hunger pains for 45 minutes at the Shannon Airport awaiting the flight to New York and stay on this plane that is idiot-ridden and muggy. I could go into the terminal and try to buy some Irish currency and then a sandwich but I'd hate to miss any of the food on this plane that I've already paid for. I'll see 5 airports today. I don't like airports.

Last night I met Ray and the Two Brigitte's (appearing nightly) at McDaid's. Brigitte #1 who I had met when I was first in Dublin told me that she had a flat for £5 a week in a house where her friend Jean was living. Her, Jean and a Malaysian mercenary (!) in Irish Army (a pro-American) share kitchen and can. She's in Dublin to be with her boyfriend Ray. He lives with his parents and has just finished engineering school.

John Kehoe's, Dublin 1975

We went to O'Donahue's the famous musicians and politics pub. It was so packed that we had to split. To John Kehoe's and the artists and writers scene. The pub much more "done" than McDaid's. But older and very tasteful.

Brigitte #2 is small, probably 22, short blond hair and an almost dull kind of prettiness but sparkling eyes and a warm smile and laugh. An invitation to stay the night at their flat. But I wouldn't have time to get to the hostel before it closed and not nearly enough time to collect my stuff from the hostel and then rush to the airport by 11:00 this morning. I've very little to base them on but I'm left with glorious fantasies.

This morning I ran into the Australian woman who I've been meeting around the country. She said she'd write me for social work possibilities in BC. She seemed pretty down. To try to get into Canada to work right now is a pretty depressing task. and Werner last night talking about the next plane back to Hamburg. I'm glad to be on my way home though this airline is having one fuck of a time getting us out of Ireland. We are at least an hour behind schedule. The Atlantic crossing is evidently 6 hours this way though only 4 on the way over. I've had nothing to eat all day and I'll choke that baby the next time it makes a sound. But first, this asshole ahead of me who won't sit still....

Dublin weather moves in on Vancouver. The house is empty and still, save for the music of a saxophone  now bumping and slinking out of the radio. Numb. Clock here says 2:15 yet it's 10:15 at night and I slept all afternoon. 12,000 miles. Not quite far enough to see Myra. Fucking tree planting! A note from her seems to say she'll be here in a day or two. Drag myself downstairs say hello to Dick give him a hug. He says Myra wanted my letters to say I miss you I love you. I did and I do.

A sextet led by Charlie Christian and a recording from 1940. Away long enough to have a pleasant re-experience of this house. Little traces and scents and arrangements of a newly re-acquainted house.

The beginning of the long dash followed by 10 seconds of silence indicates exactly 10:00 a.m. Sunday June 22, 1975. CBU Vancouver with 90 transmitters on the Pacific Network.