Monday, March 23, 2009
My First Rocket Launch
When I was three, I remember my brother keeping a scrapbook of John Glenn's first orbits in space. For years afterwards I would crack open the yellowed pages of his black covered composition book into which newspaper clippings were heavily glued (he was only eleven at the time after all).
When I was seven I built a large model replica of the Saturn Five rocket all by myself. The model, when finished, was about three feet high and all of the stages separated and there was even a lunar module that folded up and tucked inside the final stage.
As a family we watched the space flights of Apollo 7, 8, 9, 10 and on that fateful day in July 1969, we sat transfixed in front of our black and white TV at the cottage, transfixed to the ghostly images coming from the moon as Neil Armstrong floated down the LEM's ladder.
As I got older, my fascination with space flight never abated. I read Mitchner's Space and Wolf's The Right Stuff. I joined NASA's junior space program that came with a library of books you could fill with stickers that were regularly sent to you. My favourite toy was astronaut Major Matt Mason. I wanted to be the first man on Mars.
I've been to he Kennedy Space Centre 3 times. 10 or 15 years ago I had the good fortune of meeting Buzz Aldrin (the second man on the moon) in the green room at the Dini Petty Show and ended up with an autographed photo.
The one thing I was missing though was watching a live rocket launch. That finally happened last week.
The family and I drove to Florida for a March break vacation. Because we couldn't get in to our rented condo until Monday, the plan was to drive to Titusville (outside the Kennedy Space Center) to arrive Sunday afternoon, tour the Kennedy Space Center on Monday and then drive in to Orlando to set up shop for the week. I knew that there was supposed to be a shuttle launch a few days earlier but I didn't know that it had been delayed because of a hydrogen leak. At dinner on Saturday night, Mason said that his grandfather told him that there was going to be a launch on Sunday. I was stunned. I grabbed the blackberry and googled Nasa and sure enough there it was...7:43pm on Sunday night - the launch of Discovery. The boys had never seen me so excited and I began to obsess for the next 20 some odd hours.
We checked into the Super 8 in Titusville around 4pm (we paid $55 for a room that was now going for $135) and the boys had a quick swim before we headed out to pick up a pizza and head down to the Indian River to get a prime spot from which to watch the launch.
Though we had to wait over two hours, it was well worth it. I don't know that pictures or video can do it justice but it was great to be able to scratch this off the bucket list. Now Mason says he wants to be the first man on Mars - could happen!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
My first band
I always considered myself musical. I took piano lessons when I was 8 (from the daughter of my mother's best friend who then sent me home with keys drawn on a piece of paper to practise on since we didn't actually own a piano). My mom likes to tell stories about how I banged on pots and pans in lieu of having toys. The first time I actually asked for anything extravagant it was for a banjo after having seen Flats and Scruggs on the Beverly Hillbillies. One day after school, on a whim, I bought a mandolin at a bookstore just because I figured I could figure it out. Now, I didn't say that I was any good at playing any of these but at least I showed some enthusiasm.
In the Spring of 1976 I was in the living room of my parents house listening to my favourite album, Cat Steven's Tea For The Tillerman. My brother played guitar and it just so happened that he had the songbook for the album and it just so happened that the songbook was in the living room. I opened it up and followed along with the songs. When I saw the illustrations of the chords printed above the staffs of music I had an epiphany - "I can do this." With a great deal of that previously mentioned enthusiasm, I leaped to my feet and rushed in to the den to get my brother's Ovation guitar. It is with some embarrassment I tell you that he was in the room with his girlfriend and I saw things that I probably should not have seen. But as a boy on a mission, I ignored the obvious and took the guitar without asking and headed back to the living room. Over the next few hours I was able to learn a couple of songs from Tea For The Tillerman as well as Simon and Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence." I was so excited about my new found prowess that within a week I had bought a knockoff Les Paul imitation electric guitar made by Mann.
Two weeks later I found myself in a friend's basement auditioning for his band, Phlox. Phlox means flame in Greek. This was the seventies so finding a name with a second meaning was very important. For instance, Rush could mean "hurry" or "unexpected thrill" while Rhinegold could mean...something or other. I don't really know what Rhinegold means it's just that's the ma,e of Larry Gowan's band from the seventies and they used to play the Piccadilly Tube all of the time. But I digress. Back to Phlox...
I wish I could remember the names of the guys in Phlox. But I do remember that Ansley Dunbar was the lead guitarist because Ansley was black and played an upside down white Stratocaster just like Jimi Hendrix. No, Ansley did not play like Hendrix. When I showed up at the audition I could play exactly five open chords (A, G, C, D and E). That got me through the first few songs but then when we got to "Pinball Wizard," I suddenly had to learn how to cope with barre chords. I didn't want to get kicked out of the band for being inept so I studied Ansley's hands intently and suffered cramps trying to keep up.
I went home and spent the next week practising those chords every waking moment and when I came back to the basement seven days later I was ready to move on. Sadly, though, the other guys were ready to move on as well and the band disbanded right there and then before the second rehearsal even began. That's rock and roll, I guess.
In the Spring of 1976 I was in the living room of my parents house listening to my favourite album, Cat Steven's Tea For The Tillerman. My brother played guitar and it just so happened that he had the songbook for the album and it just so happened that the songbook was in the living room. I opened it up and followed along with the songs. When I saw the illustrations of the chords printed above the staffs of music I had an epiphany - "I can do this." With a great deal of that previously mentioned enthusiasm, I leaped to my feet and rushed in to the den to get my brother's Ovation guitar. It is with some embarrassment I tell you that he was in the room with his girlfriend and I saw things that I probably should not have seen. But as a boy on a mission, I ignored the obvious and took the guitar without asking and headed back to the living room. Over the next few hours I was able to learn a couple of songs from Tea For The Tillerman as well as Simon and Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence." I was so excited about my new found prowess that within a week I had bought a knockoff Les Paul imitation electric guitar made by Mann.
Two weeks later I found myself in a friend's basement auditioning for his band, Phlox. Phlox means flame in Greek. This was the seventies so finding a name with a second meaning was very important. For instance, Rush could mean "hurry" or "unexpected thrill" while Rhinegold could mean...something or other. I don't really know what Rhinegold means it's just that's the ma,e of Larry Gowan's band from the seventies and they used to play the Piccadilly Tube all of the time. But I digress. Back to Phlox...
I wish I could remember the names of the guys in Phlox. But I do remember that Ansley Dunbar was the lead guitarist because Ansley was black and played an upside down white Stratocaster just like Jimi Hendrix. No, Ansley did not play like Hendrix. When I showed up at the audition I could play exactly five open chords (A, G, C, D and E). That got me through the first few songs but then when we got to "Pinball Wizard," I suddenly had to learn how to cope with barre chords. I didn't want to get kicked out of the band for being inept so I studied Ansley's hands intently and suffered cramps trying to keep up.
I went home and spent the next week practising those chords every waking moment and when I came back to the basement seven days later I was ready to move on. Sadly, though, the other guys were ready to move on as well and the band disbanded right there and then before the second rehearsal even began. That's rock and roll, I guess.
Monday, March 2, 2009
My Worst Day Ever - Motorhead
Today I name names. i said that I wouldn't but enough people have heard this story that if I tried to fudge it most would figure it out. So, for those of you who haven't heard it, hear it goes...
In 1986 (was it really that long ago) I was working for Attic Records and we were about to put out the new Motorhead album, Orgasmatron. I was pretty stoked at the time because Motorhead had released one of rock's must-have albums, Ace Of Spades, as well as one of the great live albums of all-time, No Sleep Till Hammersmith. Getting to work with a rock legend like Lemmy was sure to be a career highlight. Oh, how right I was.
The band pulled in to Toronto as the opening act on the Alice Cooper tour. Though their availability was limited, I managed to arrange a pre-taped interview at Q107 and a live interview on MuchMusic's Power Hour. I drove up to Maple Leaf Gardens and parked in front of the band's tour bus. The tour manager was right on the ball and within fifteen minutes Lemmy and his mole were in my front seat of my Mazda 626 while Philty Phil lounged in the back.
As we drove up to the Q107 offices, Lemmy announced that he wanted liquor. I told him I'd get them some once the interview was done. They insisted that I get the Jack Daniels right there and then. I told them that we were running late and I was pretty sure they didn't allow liquor in the studio at Q. Lemmy didn't care. He swore that he wouldn't do the interview unless I got him his drink. I made a deal with them - "Let's go to Q and while you do the interview I'll get the Jack Daniels. as soon as you come out of the studio, it's yours." Either Lemmy or his mole galumphed which I took as "okay."
I returned to the studio only to discover that Lemmy and Phil sat in the studio the entire time I was gone, refusing to say a word until I got back with the bottle. Joey Vendetta was doing the interview and reluctantly gave each of the guys a taste. When we were done at Q we headed back to my car for the drive to the MuchMusic studios.
The whole way done University Avenue, Lemmy and Phil exchanged the bottle taking long swigs. When we got to Much we were told that they couldn't bring bottle in to the studio. I explained to the producer that they wouldn't talk without the drink and since they were scheduled to go out live as co-hosts it could cause a bit of a problem. The solution was pouring the booze in to two nondescript cups from which the guys would chug throughout the show.
If you saw the tape of their interview you'd be able to watch these two rock giants get blitzed over the course of the next hour. The highlight came at the end of the interview. We had a giant Orgasmatron poster that the band was to sign for a contest winner. The plan was to hold up the poster and have the guys encourage viewers to write in for the contest. They held up the poster alright but then they started to eat it. No, seriously. Both Lemmy and Phil started to rip chunks off the poster and stuff them down their mouths. The Power Hour ended, mercifully at 5:00pm and we drove back to Maple Leaf Gardens.
But, dear reader, the story has not yet ended...
After Motorhead's set I was to go back to the dressing room and have them sign the poster. I stood at the door and knocked and knocked and knocked. After 15 minutes, the road manager came out and said he'd take the poster in, get the guys to sign it and come right back out. 15 minutes later and nothing. 30 minutes later and still no poster. No one had come in or left the dressing room. Alice Cooper finished his 90 minute set and still nothing. Alice Cooper had taken off the make-up and still no poster.
Around 11:30pm the door finally opened and the road manager apologized that the poster still hadn't been signed. He invited me in to try and get it signed myself. When I entered the room I saw the poster on the ground covered in foot prints. I picked it up and in defiance I walked up to each bandmember asking them to sign. I went to Lemmy last and he refused. I was pissed off and couldn't leave the room without Lemmy's signature. That would have been like leaving the Beatles dressing room without Lennon's John Hancock. He tried to walk away but I followed him and reminded him that I got him his liquor when he neither allowed it or deserved it. He took my Sharpie without a word and grudgingly scratch his name in to the poster.
A year later I ran in to the road manager at Rock n Roll Heaven. he wasn't with Motorhead anymore. he apologized to me for the band's behaviour that day. It turns out that as they arrived in the bus Lemmy announced to the band that they would be treating the local promo rep (in this case me) like shit, just for the fun of it. Oh joy! Lucky me!
In 1986 (was it really that long ago) I was working for Attic Records and we were about to put out the new Motorhead album, Orgasmatron. I was pretty stoked at the time because Motorhead had released one of rock's must-have albums, Ace Of Spades, as well as one of the great live albums of all-time, No Sleep Till Hammersmith. Getting to work with a rock legend like Lemmy was sure to be a career highlight. Oh, how right I was.
The band pulled in to Toronto as the opening act on the Alice Cooper tour. Though their availability was limited, I managed to arrange a pre-taped interview at Q107 and a live interview on MuchMusic's Power Hour. I drove up to Maple Leaf Gardens and parked in front of the band's tour bus. The tour manager was right on the ball and within fifteen minutes Lemmy and his mole were in my front seat of my Mazda 626 while Philty Phil lounged in the back.
As we drove up to the Q107 offices, Lemmy announced that he wanted liquor. I told him I'd get them some once the interview was done. They insisted that I get the Jack Daniels right there and then. I told them that we were running late and I was pretty sure they didn't allow liquor in the studio at Q. Lemmy didn't care. He swore that he wouldn't do the interview unless I got him his drink. I made a deal with them - "Let's go to Q and while you do the interview I'll get the Jack Daniels. as soon as you come out of the studio, it's yours." Either Lemmy or his mole galumphed which I took as "okay."
I returned to the studio only to discover that Lemmy and Phil sat in the studio the entire time I was gone, refusing to say a word until I got back with the bottle. Joey Vendetta was doing the interview and reluctantly gave each of the guys a taste. When we were done at Q we headed back to my car for the drive to the MuchMusic studios.
The whole way done University Avenue, Lemmy and Phil exchanged the bottle taking long swigs. When we got to Much we were told that they couldn't bring bottle in to the studio. I explained to the producer that they wouldn't talk without the drink and since they were scheduled to go out live as co-hosts it could cause a bit of a problem. The solution was pouring the booze in to two nondescript cups from which the guys would chug throughout the show.
If you saw the tape of their interview you'd be able to watch these two rock giants get blitzed over the course of the next hour. The highlight came at the end of the interview. We had a giant Orgasmatron poster that the band was to sign for a contest winner. The plan was to hold up the poster and have the guys encourage viewers to write in for the contest. They held up the poster alright but then they started to eat it. No, seriously. Both Lemmy and Phil started to rip chunks off the poster and stuff them down their mouths. The Power Hour ended, mercifully at 5:00pm and we drove back to Maple Leaf Gardens.
But, dear reader, the story has not yet ended...
After Motorhead's set I was to go back to the dressing room and have them sign the poster. I stood at the door and knocked and knocked and knocked. After 15 minutes, the road manager came out and said he'd take the poster in, get the guys to sign it and come right back out. 15 minutes later and nothing. 30 minutes later and still no poster. No one had come in or left the dressing room. Alice Cooper finished his 90 minute set and still nothing. Alice Cooper had taken off the make-up and still no poster.
Around 11:30pm the door finally opened and the road manager apologized that the poster still hadn't been signed. He invited me in to try and get it signed myself. When I entered the room I saw the poster on the ground covered in foot prints. I picked it up and in defiance I walked up to each bandmember asking them to sign. I went to Lemmy last and he refused. I was pissed off and couldn't leave the room without Lemmy's signature. That would have been like leaving the Beatles dressing room without Lennon's John Hancock. He tried to walk away but I followed him and reminded him that I got him his liquor when he neither allowed it or deserved it. He took my Sharpie without a word and grudgingly scratch his name in to the poster.
A year later I ran in to the road manager at Rock n Roll Heaven. he wasn't with Motorhead anymore. he apologized to me for the band's behaviour that day. It turns out that as they arrived in the bus Lemmy announced to the band that they would be treating the local promo rep (in this case me) like shit, just for the fun of it. Oh joy! Lucky me!
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