My life as a concert wasteland

In early December, I went to this special storytelling event hosted at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, B.C., in conjunction with the exhibit, Beyond the Beat: Music of Resistance and Change, which ends Jan.5, 2026. 

Six  individuals from a variety of cultural backgrounds shared stories about their personal intersections with music and concerts or concert venues that really stood out for them as milestones in their lives.  

After that event, I reflected back on my own musical background and it made me question how someone who likes music, and who took piano lessons for 9 years, could have had so few concert experiences growing up.

I went to almost no concerts as a teen or young adult. In contrast, when I was in my late 20s, I met a friend who was so into music that she even worked at a place that was a precursor to The Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), which I believe may have been called Performing Rights Organization. The office was located just off Robson Street on Thurlow in a second floor office. I too worked there for a while as the receptionist and until writing this, I'd forgotten all about that. It was short-lived. 

The woman who ran the place, Lynne Partridge, had a dramatic personality and according to Google was inducted into the BC Entertainment Hall of Fame in 2020-2021 for her work on performing rights. The prominent Canadian music manager and booking agent, Bruce Allen, would occasionally pop in.

I remember this same friend, Pam Melnyk (who must have got me the job), dragging me to a Nick Cave concert at the Town Pump in Gastown in the 1980s. I'd never even heard of Nick Cave back then. If my memory serves me correctly, he may have started the concert by coming out of a coffin or maybe he just looked like he’d died and had just risen.  All I could think, watching and listening was, “I hate this. How long is this night gonna last?” 

“Nick Cave” by NRK P3, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

I now realize how incredibly "lucky" I was to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in such a small venue for a relatively cheaply-priced ticket. Now, 39 years later, another friend whose brother lives in Liverpool told me recently that he was desperately seeking a ticket to a Nick Cave concert in Ireland and debating whether he could afford the lofty price. It blows my mind that all these years later, Nick Cave is still performing and is such a legend.

Pam and I also went on a trip to San Francisco in 1987 or 1988 and she was so excited to show me the Haight-Ashbury District and point out the places where Janis Joplin hung out and performed. 

It was such a great trip. When we got on the plane to come home, a voice over the P.A. system announced the flight was overbooked and they'd be willing to pay for an extra night in a hotel if anyone wanted to get off. We dashed off that plane so fast, hands raised, deliriously happy to spend one more night in San Fran. You'd think we'd won the lottery. It didn't even matter that they wouldn't give us back our luggage for the night.

I was raised in such a straight-laced family and I was a really quiet and shy kid so I didn't really grow up with a friend group that I hung out with. I had my basketball team and one really close friend and we didn't go to concerts because we had no money. Maybe that explains it, not that it’s convincing enough. 

Mostly we spent time just listening to albums. Carole King. Earth,Wind and Fire. Chicago. Fleetwood Mac. The Cars. The Band. Pat Benetar. Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music. The Doobie Brothers. The BeeGees. Annie Lennox. The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.   

We went to Pink Floyd when their music was the background as part of some light show at the Vancouver Planetarium in the 1970s. I recall going to Paul Simon and Elton John concerts at B.C. Place but that's about it. Oh, and David Cassidy. Can’t forget that heartthrob from back in my day.

Like so many families, we had one of those old stereo systems in a big wooden console with the record player inside and my parents listened to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. I think they had a Louis Armstrong and a Nat King Cole album. My sisters had a 45 of Petula Clark singing "Downtown" that they'd play all the time. Or when we finally got a black and white TV, we'd watch Ed Sullivan on Sunday nights when the Jackson Five and The Supremes and Tiny Tim were first on his show. Wow. Do I ever feel old writing this!  

Anyway, I know this post has nothing to do with Salt Spring, but if you have a chance to catch the exhibit at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, and you're of a certain age, it's bound to bring up some personal music memories.

Even if you don't go, why not slow down, grab a Bailey's, do some daydreaming and take a mental stroll down your own musical memory lane. 

I'm absolutely certain it will be a million times more interesting than mine. 

James Bay in Three Days

I was in Victoria for the past couple of days at a workshop on Motivational Interviewing and as I walked around in three days of beautiful weather, I noticed that Victoria really seems to be growing on me. When I drove into the city at 7:00 am on Sunday morning, the streets were pretty empty and the Olympic Mountains in the distance looked as if they were floating with their white tops painted in acrylic on the sky.

I stayed at the James Bay Inn because of its fantastic location but mostly because of its great weekday rate ($69) and its charm. It must be one of the first hotels in Victoria and it's just down the street from Emily Carr's house which I have yet to take a tour of and have wanted to do for some time now after reading a few of her books. I can't recall the name of the woman who wrote the last one but it was a fictional story using Carr's life as the basis and it's a good read and I can't find it online. It's really bugging me now.

I wandered down towards Dallas Road and the wind was whipping up the whitecaps pretty well. There were at least 10 guys getting air and sometimes getting water while they did tricks on their parasailing boards or whatever those things are called. Unfortunately, I left my camera at home. I know, I know. Strange but true. I wanted to just walk around looking with my own eyes, not through a camera lense. Alas, the only photo I took was from my cell phone.

I walked along the seawall back at the inner harbour and went into the Flying Otter in search of a fish and chip place that I heard was down there and really good. I got directed to go farther north and found Red Fish/Blue Fish. Try the traditional halibut or cod fish and chips or get adventurous with all sorts of spicy seafood Tacones.

On one of the mornings I had breakfast (a steal of deal with two eggs, toast, hashbrowns and coffee) at the James Bay Tea Room.

I walked along Toronto street, a one-way street where the James Bay Inn is located and admired all the colourful Victorian-style houses with their tiny yards butted up against the sidewalk and daisies and wildflowers poking through the small, white picket fences keeping the narrow sidewalks in some semblence of a straight line.

It wouldn't be a visit to Victoria without a trip to Munro's books. In addition to the latest Ruth Rendall Mystery, I purchased a book called Eating India; Exploring the Food and Culture of the Land of the Spices and another, A Life Less Ordinary, about a woman who ends up writing a book about her impoverished life in India after she receives encouragement to do so while working as a maid for an educated family in Delhi.

As I continued towards the port where the cruise ships doc, I marveled at the beautiful condos on that side of the downtown. What a great place to live.  There's a small seawall that you can follow all around the harbour that takes you past the Laurel Point Inn and houseboats and fish and chip take-out with the floatplanes taxiing right in front of you after they land heading back to their home berth.

I enjoyed the energy and sounds of Victoria a lot, worryingly so. My mind feels more alert in the city. I like looking at  people I haven't seen and don't know. Strangers are good.

Not that it wasn't nice to return to a view worthy of an Emily Carr painting with 11 Douglas Fir trees no more than 25 feet from my window and the ocean a grey-white ribbon of a background on this overcast morning. But, the wheels are a turning about living on an island. I can use the techniques I learned to resolve my own ambivalence. Yes, I can try that. Where should I move next?

The Great Victoria Teascape

Isn't this lovely? It's a purse that I saw in the Venus Sophia Tea Room where we had a wee spot of the heavenly liquid when I was there about a month ago with the girl friends. It was a combination tea shop, cafe with all sorts of romantic pleasantries, bits and bobs as the saying goes, or does it?  But this tea shop is relatively new I suspect, and it's in the heart of Victoria's Chinatown on Fisgard street. 

Sitting at one of the white tables is like drinking in a Chic flic. It's a lovely escape whether you're with friends or on your own. It's so civilized and aesthetically pleasing you expect to find Vanessa Redgrave sitting quietly in the corner with a big, floppy hat and large white sunglasses.

I came across a list of the 10 best tea rooms in Victoria and thought I'd pass it on. I've been to exactly one of them. The oldest.

Something about the large decorated room and this purse took me back to a memory of my mother when she must have been in her mid 40s and I was a child. She had this beautiful sterling silver mirror, brush and comb set always on her dresser on a lace doiley.

Some days before my father would come home from work, she would often take the time to go to her bedroom and use that sterling silver set to brush her hair, powder her face, put on lipstick and then take a quick assessment of herself. I remember this as an observer, not a participant.

I can see her in a dress she used to wear in the summer. It had a large, white sailor-like collar and it was coral-coloured with big flowers on it and lots of lightweight fabric that swished when she walked. She'd be carrying a large white leather bag with a clasp. It was the early 1960s.

Something about this purse, the colours and the femininity, unearthed for me that ritual of time my mother would sometimes take for herself  before dinner (but even then she couldn't have the time to herself because obviously I was there watching). 

I find this attention to herself for my father (and for herself) in a life that seemed quite devoid of romance, very interesting as I ponder it now.

I think everyone must have a memory of their mother standing before a mirror, applying make-up or preparing herself for a special evening that helped shape a sense of their own femininity or what that word might mean and it's quite a delicious visual.

Anyone have their own memories of such a ritual by their own mother you'd care to share?

Victoria's Chinatown: A Great Fast Food Experience

Yesterday I had a meeting in Victoria in the early afternoon. As usual, I was early, so I treated myself to lunch. I wanted  to eat somewhere as inexpensive as possible but with decent food of course.

The meeting was near Chinatown anyway so on what was a stunner of a day, I wandered around and discovered that there appears to be an "it" place right across from the CRD offices that serves up all sorts of spicey noodle boxes. It was too busy.

Next, I wandered back from where I'd come and saw a little hole in the wall (my favorite kind of place when I'm in the mood for that kind of thing). My instincts said the food would be good. It was quite crowded and it looked like it had been there since the 1930s. In fact, on a wall high above were two photos of Fisgard Street from a long time ago. Actually, it didn't look all that much different.

The ceilings were really high. The walls were covered with the ugliest gold embossed wallpaper that looks like it belongs in the bedroom at a really cheap brothel. There was a fishtank, a really big fishtank, sitting right in front of my table. I kept looking at the fish, all vibrant purples, whiter than whites and a little seal fish. At least that's what I'm calling it. This fish had the head of a cute little baby seal but it had the tail of a fish. That's weirder than all those mutant miniature dogs you see in Vancouver's West End. Unlike those dogs, the little seal fish was so cute. Are you confused? When all the polar ice caps finally melt to an even greater extreme will the real life-sized seals mutate into this form I wondered?

Across from me was an elderly chinese man was eating alone. I wondered if this was his Friday lunch outing. He was very well put together. Beside me a Chinese couple were eating their wonton. I enjoyed listening to them speak Mandarin (I think?) A woman cam in and sat next to me. She put all her cycling paraphenalia on the second chair at her table. I started talking to her and she spoke about how great it was to live in Victoria (she'd been there about 3 years) and be able to ride everywhere.

I was trying to eat my shrimp udon and feeling like the guy on the other side of the room was smiling to himself as I used  chopsticks the whole time to eat my soup to get at the noodles. Not exactly proper I guess. Like eating soup with a knife?

There was only one waitress who was clearly overworked in the craziness of the lunch rush and being near the door I could watch both the activity on the street, people comign and going to the vegetable stand across the street and the people coming in. I really enjoyed the bustle of it all and even better, I didn't know and had never seen a single one of these people.

After my meeting I wandered down to the harbour and it was so crisp and sunny everything sparkled. I then decided to go into The Empress and looked at all the Christmas trees decorated by different organizations placed throughout the hotel. I walked past the tea room and thought that one day that is something I want to do with friends. I want to have tea at The Empress Hotel with friends.

I used to think that I couldn't live in Victoria, that it was too boring. Now, each time I go, I"m beginning to think my mind is being opened to being changed. But, for now, it's a great day trip!