Huzzah!! I am going to D.O.A. tonight, Canadian punksters for 3 decades!!
They haven't been to Newfoundland since 1984, their only trip here, and I'm thinking that this is going to be quite the show tonight. They're playing with Tough Justice and Dog Meat BBQ, two old school Newfoundland punk bands, so I'm also getting a taste of the music scene from "back in the day." My only complaint thus far (since the show isn't for another 7 hours or so...) is that tickets were $12 in advance, and $15 at the door. Now, I can understand that anyone coming from the mainland to the rock needs to pay for gas...but it's a far cry from the $5 I used to pay for shows...ah, I'm so jaded.
And since today is also Easter, I'm looking out towards St. John's Harbour, to the Atlantic beyond and poetically musing: Where the bloody hell is spring???
Ok, ok, it's not snowing (which it did last week), and it's not hailing, nor is there really any ice on the ground. Snow is melting, and I can see patches of blue sky beyond some light cloud coverage. But one wonders, in all this melting, blue-skied wilderness, why there are no blossoms or buds, no people in their spring finery going off to church or the park to look at robbins, and why the wind is rushing like a freaking freight train past my window at speeds of 8000 miles an hour with a wind chill of minus a million.
Well, I suppose I exaggerate somewhat, but my Vancouverite brain is trying to grasp why I'm still here...I mean, the first robbin of spring was blown into my window and then frozen to the side of the building last week...
Ah, punk rock will cure all ills (unless you count "hearing" as an ill), and I will forge forth with proposal writing, thesis research, folkloric endeavours, and only cry quietly during the lull's between bands.