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April 17, 2011

Well-Placed Pasties Trump Paradise Any Day

What's More Serious than Death? Interviews!
1. I often think too many job interviews are just way too serious. It's as if they didn't get the memo that said, "Relax. We won't be conducting organ transplants or the surgical separation of conjoined twins so act accordingly."  It's okay to be professional and still be fun. I know it. In the past decade I've managed to work with fantastic people who, to varying degrees, have had a sense of humour and smarts. Memo to self: Life's too short to work for people who take every little thing too seriously.

Getting on but still able at The Keefer Bar
2. You know you're getting older when  a two-hour nap is a necessary intervention prior to going out on the town to an event that starts at 10:00 pm. Hey, that's close to my bedtime on weeknights! Colleen set the alarm for 9:00 pm and we got dressed and headed to this nifty little place in Chinatown called The Keefer Bar. It's a narrow little building that has a Chinese medicine-themed decor with drink menus full of Asian-influenced hi-balls.Think Ginseng and gold dust.  Ms. Colleen wanted to see the burlesque show. The costumes were fantastic and so was the M.C., Crystal Precious, along with Little Miss Risk and others. There were three acts. It's a really intimate little venue and we got chatting with two ladies from the film industry who were fun, fun, fun. We both loved it and would highly recommend the venue and the weekly Thursday night burlesque shows. Staying up to 1:00 am was a breeze courtesy of the well-timed nap. Cover was a mere $10.

3. A coffee shop on the East Side called Marche St. George. A slice of Provence served up a la carte at East 28th and St. George. Coffee, tea, croissants. High end jams and crackers, pickles, coffee, and quality delicacies.  I had a lovely conversation with Carrie, mom to three-year-old Sloan. It's weird when you meet someone and your life experiences and values just seem to have followed the same twisted path which means you could just talk and talk and talk. I wiled away the sunny Thursday morning there. Strangely enough, there was a Salt Spring connection but I'm still not exactly clear on who owned what and what that connection was but it was there.

4.  The Prophouse Cafe on Venables across from Uprising Breads and Bakery. I don't even know what to say about this place except go there and gawk.  Thank you, Gwen, for introducing me to this colourful, master of uniquness. It's full of tri-lights and orange swag lamps and black leopard figurines and records that the wait staff will yell at customers to put on if the room goes silent. The owner, Ross Judge, was wearing a Canadians Jersey and I got a bad cell-phone photo of him (above) standing in from of one of those old blue hearse like cars with the massive fins and Canuck flags flying from every antenna. Strangely enough, across the room was Heather, a Salt Springer known for her work with North Americans stashed away in Thai prisons at Prisoner Support Society.  She has relocated to Vancouver. We had a brief conversation. On the way out, some guy named Frank York got in on the photo-op and when he heard that I lived on Salt Spring he said to say hi to Matt Steffich  of Steffich Fine Art who, according to Frank, was another East Van boy.

Let me just say, I really am not ready to return to this lovely little island; a world renowned paradise of mind-dulling silence broken only by the croaking frogs and that 4:00 am cock a doodle doo that needs a swift little kick and those bleeting little goats across the road.

Home sweet home. La dee dah. La dee dah.


Anonymous said...

The cap fits.

Steven R. Duncan said...

Next time give me a call when you are here.