Bah Humbug.

Okay. So if I don’t have a father anymore, no one else is allowed to celebrate father’s day, dammit. Actually, I don’t really care, especially given that the various hype and media that traditionally surrounds father's day doesn't in any way bear a resemblance to my own dad (i.e. barbecues, fishing, golf). Goddam he was hard to shop for! Okay, there was the typical dad thing of liking beer, but that was never a typically father’s day kind of thing to buy here, especially in Regina: home of public liquor boards.

So what’s my point here? Well, I guess I’m just setting the scene – it was an unbelievably quiet day here in the Queen City. Not only was it a Sunday, but the throngs of non-fatherless children had whisked their pappies off to cottages, or the beach or Montana’s or some damn thing, thus leaving the downtown core desolate. But after having watched enough FIFA to have permanently fried my retinas, I really needed to go for a walk. Badly. That and the fact that I’m finding that nowadays if I go more than one or two days without dancing I really don’t feel too good. So with my trusty Discman I hit the streets of my hometown of 15 years in an attempt to reconnect with Pile ‘o Bones.

My reconnection didn’t exactly happen though. Maybe it was the whole Brazil thing, the whole ‘needing to re-evaluate life’ thing I’ve been going through lately, and maybe it was when someone pointed out to me the other day that I’ve been in Edmonton now for nearly 10 years, but the city really feels foreign to me now. (The exception to this entire discussion when I’m within the confines of my parents’ home when I always feel comfy and cozy, when I’m being mothered, etc. which is the reason I needed to come here at this time).

The city, of course, is changing, and it really is a lovely place (I’m soooooo not getting into that debate right now), and while I know my way around just fine and dandy, it’s really feeling alien to me. There is something very isolating about walking the streets of a city knowing that you’re not going to bump into any of your friends, not going to be able to go for that impromptu coffee or pint. Sure, there’s a couple of acquaintances remaining here, but not really friends. Not the people you can talk complete and utter bullshit to, share your wack-job plans and schemes with and, most importantly, sit with in complete silence. That part of Regina is gone for me now, and it’s really kind of sad.

Now maybe I’m being a wee bit over-the-top maudlin about all this, it may have to do with the fact that when I went for this 2 hour excursion I had “I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning” on replay the whole time. I have absolutely been hooked on this CD since I saw Bright Eyes at Red’s (I know, I know) the other week. Goddamn it’s a great album! You know when you hear a record and it’s just got you so happy that people are still making good music that you want to cry and skip down the street? Hmm, maybe that’s just me. Anyway, it’s a damn fine album I highly recommend. The only thing is some of his lyrics on this album are too easy to connect with in a visceral way and you can send yourself into a spiral of over-contemplation very very quickly. Trust me on this one – choose your listening times with discretion.