[image from google-Alison Krauss and Union Station]
Hey, kids, last night my sister pried me like Velcro from my new nest and we drove up-Island to Courtenay, where every summer they host the Vancouver Island Music Festival, which brings in fantastic musicians from all over, including some big names.
I have lived on the Island since 1989, and last night was my first time there: either working, or tired up till now, and never made it, but my sister goes every year.
Last night was grand: Thai food before the concert, then going in the gate with all the cool tents and funky booths offering all manner of the kind of items one never sees in regular stores, and the only kind of things that interest me: alternative. Many of the folk were alternative too. My peeps!! There is a certain look, smile and nod old hippies give each other. We recognize each other mainly by our hair, I think : my bruthah from anuthah mutha.
Row upon row of polite Canadians sat, in the thousands, in deck chairs brought from home. You picked your spot, plunked your chair down, and went off to do a sweep of the booths with no worries anyone would take your stuff.
I was completely thrilled to find an Indian bedspread in purple with elephants on it, no less, for twenty bucks. I was Totally Stoked.
Then it was time for the show. Lori introduced me to Alison Krauss a few years back. Lori loves country, me, not so much, but Alison Krauss and Union Station transcend the genre. A little bitty girl with a great big voice, she and the band of exceptionally good musicians gave us over two hours of solid performance, far more than we expected.
I enjoyed it all: listening to the music, gazing at the darkening sky, watching all the people grooving with the music. Canadians are generally a polite, restrained lot. (The recent riot in Vancouver was an aberration: kids who had never been taught boundaries and respect, whose consciousness is, as yet, unawakened, and who have never felt a consequence in their short lives.)
I marvelled that a few thousand people sat, smiling, nodding, tapping their toes to the beat, clapping at the end of each number. But no one was rowdy. No one was inebriated. I smelled pot once later in the evening. But generally everyone was there to hear the music, were amply appreciative of the calibre of the performance we were treated to, and behaved appropriately, as Canadians generally tend to do.
Lori and I didnt get home till one a.m., and she had to get up this morning and go to work. She and Warren are now going back to stay there for the weekend and catch the whole show. One of the singers from Yes is there, David Crosby, Holly Cole......but I was well satisfied with last night, am tired and contented, knowing I had the perfect evening. I have no need of More, and am happy to hang here with the animals this weekend.
Today I have Alison Krauss going non-stop on the stereo and am enjoying my cute funky place very much.
A happy weekend to all!