MPW | BLOG

I have no cell coverage but lots of Internet. Boot up skype and I’ll try to call you.

I suppose I should describe the motorbike accident.
Essentially the bike was knocked over in a parking lot by a reversing car. The problem was that I was sitting on it.
I had started my machine and was duck walking it backwards out of my parking space at the motel. I came to a stop and was about to put it into first gear, turn sharply right and pull away when a car backed out of a parking spot perpendicular to mine and to my left. I was sitting still and I just noticed in my left peripheral vision the oncoming mass. I remember turning my head forward and lifting my left leg up hoping it would not be crushed between his back bumper and my engine. The impact was akin to a hit by an enormous angry linebacker. It sent me flying off to my right and the motorcycle landed hard on its right side too. Something had hit my left knee.
It hurt a lot. Helmet, jacket, gloves and boots all did their job but I was only wearing jeans (not my riding pants), so of course it was my knee (with no armor) that got hit. I had to roll around for a little while holding my knee before I crawled over to the almost upside down motorcycle and turned off the still running engine.
The fellow who hit me was a 24 year old french Albertan soldier heading off to CFB Borden in Ontario. This was only his second day of the road trip and his insurance ( which was valid ) was only for the month because he is shipping off to Kandahar in a few weeks.
Nice kid, I felt bad for him. I explained that his premium was gonna go up for the next three years and he said that he understood and,” took full responsibility”.
We waited for the police officer to create an accident report because we were both from out of province.
After we all parted I went to a clinic and had my knee looked at.
Scrapes but otherwise the doctor thought it seemed fine. At that point I agreed with him but would keep an eye on it over the next few days. I think it hit my handle bars as I was thrown over and was not crushed by the cars bumper.
The bike has very bad damage on its fairing and the turns signals had to be rebuilt with superglue.
So much for resale…

My time in Regina was very productive. I am looking forward to finishing this project in a few weeks back in Toronto. All the players really stepped up and it sounds great.
Jason and Erin’s new son is just crazy cute. I love babies. (Funny how I don’t have any myself)

Heading back out onto the highways systems of Saskatchewan and Manitoba I was both elated and spooked in equal measure. It felt so great at first but then I started feel sort of glum. I think the accident put some kind of spell on me for the first few hours. I felt a gentle sadness.
Hmmm.
What is this strange choice I’ve made and more so… how will I stop this once I get back to the city. As a lifestyle this is very addictive.
I realized later in the day that each mode, both social and solo are wonderful within their paradigms.
But…
It is the transition between them that is difficult.
By my second day of riding I was happy as a clam.
It’s almost like the earth and sky is this other friend of mine that is quietly waiting for me to leave the world of people so we can frolic together in the wind.

Rode along the small secondary highways of southern Saskatchewan and Manitoba with a short dog leg into northern Minnesota popping out into northern Ontario.
The feel and graphics of the Ontario government make it seem like I am already home. Yet I still have 2000 more km to go. Currenty my odometer reads 15,380 km so far. That’s a lot of one day at a time’s.
My plan is to flank the northern shore of Lake Superior and into Manitoulin Island. From there, a ferry to the tip of the Bruce Peninsula. Some of my motorcycle buddies are meeting me at Tobermory and we will camp and ride back as a group.

Fairground. Ahead of schedule
Plus Henry Hank Harry Henrick Plumb and me.

Parking lot…
Car backed up and sent me and my motorbike flying to the pavement. I’m ok but now sitting at a clinic waiting to have my leg checked out.

I’m fine. My muffler and top box took the brunt of it. Car bumper squished my knee against my engine but not too bad. Busted front and back turn signal lights. Got to find some crazy glue.

The overdubs are going great here in Regina. The guys are all really stepping up.
Henry Plumb is adorable.

Warning: musings of the bored traveler, forced to sit still.

Moot – adjective
1. open to discussion or debate
2. of little practical value

Sitting in this Regina. Holiday Monday… very quiet town.
I take a picture of my motorcycle out the front window to include with this post. The image reinforces my feelings that while clinging to this motorbike it feels a little like a life raft.

I think I know why slowing down and stopping in the middle of a journey is hard to do when on a trip like this.
The very presence of the muddy motorcycle and my riding cloths provide enough visual backstory to allow people to feel comfortable talking to me. I am somehow vetted and approachable. Perhaps there is also some ancient notion of solo travelers as vulnerable and in need of some contact. That kind of social feedback would allow me to feel more at ease to initiate encounters myself.
Either way it has given me a false sense of my own openness. Now that the bike is parked and I am walking around the city in jeans and a t-shirt ( there is no room to pack fancy cloths on a trip like this) that lonely soul in the city feeling has returned. Just another schmo in sneakers. Hmmm.
Or maybe the cart is pulling the horse. Perhaps just by being in this city it’s triggering an inwardness. Not sure.
As always I am sure it is a combination of the the two.

I know that I am here to work so I will give over to that fully. Creative work can also be a great balm for the soul, no?
Once again, drop the shoulders and try to sleep in the dentists chair.

Saskatoon Fringe Festival.
(warning: I will say ‘bastard’ three times in this post)

I was sitting watching a really bad play about Edith Piaf’s half sister thinking about hardships and the wisdom that comes from them.
Piaf and her sisters story was being told by a young actor as if they were boring dates in Canadian history. Just rattling off lurid and sad details of an exceptional life with no sense of meaning or proportion. Sort of spoken in classic teenage upspeak. It was obvious that the lead actor has had little or no crushing life experience herself from which to draw from. In her defense she did sing the songs in a beautiful opera trained voice. The actual emotions of the songs were still embedded in the melodies and (french) lyrics as if… bugs in amber. While she sang I felt something. Once the song was over it was back to listening in on a teenage sleepover.
So there I sit, a disappointed audience member wishing that the actor had suffered more in her own life just so I could enjoy the play. What I selfish bastard I am.
Then it occurred to me that I should wish her a life devoid of hardship (no matter how romantically she is drawn to it) and to trade it all in for ignorance and naiveté. I am sure her story will lie somewhere in-between.

The other play I saw was absolutely fantastic. Entitled,” Giant Invisible Robot”. A one hander written and performed by Jayson MacDonald. Funny and tragic in spades. It is always a joy to see someone so deft at their shit. I guess his well runs deep. Poor bastard.

I have arrived in Regina at Jason’s home. I will start editing backing vocals and prepare to start recording in a day or two.