post-coma!

arrarrarr...finally, awakened from the haze... now, to comment!

Thursday: Calgary. 15 degrees!

Brew Brothers is an excellent place - some of the best food and beer from any pub! I recommend the Black Pilsner and the Steamer. (Of course I recommend the Steamer!)

My informant Matthew warned me that Calgary was not a town that supported ska... unfortunately, he was right. Our crowd, he said, was bigger than the Toasters and Chris Murray combined from last year... eek. However, a lot of old friends showed up and danced, so we salute you, and hope you liked the private concert (aka. the 'second set.') Big ups to the Plaid Tongued Devils, who rocked and were very cool guys! Best version of Miserlou!

(also, credit to the two girls who joined the entire band in the elevator and proclaimed it a 'sausage party.')

Friday: Vernon

Enjoyable drive through the Rockies. Doogie wouldn't stop taking pictures, so we beat him with a stuffed monkey.

When we got to Vernon, we did what any self-respecting band does: went shopping at Winners. Ah, fresh clothes!

Sneakers Pub was a lot of fun. After an awesome dinner at the connecting restaurant, we rallied three sets to a very appreciate audience. The (hot) waitresses wore plaid skirts and drank harder than we did! Thanks to head chef Dave for not beating up Scot.

Saturday: Sun Peaks resort.

We got there in just enough time for the band to get a few runs in. Doogie was in pain for a while until we found out his wrist-guards were on upside-down! Afterwards, we downed pitchers of Black Bear Ale and ate ribs n' pasta at the foot of the slopes under blue skies. Awesome stuff.

This show rallied hard as well -- the lifties and partiers and usual resort rabble-rousers were thirstin' for some ska, and went hard from the second set on. (Finally, my first taste of tequila this week!) A rowdy waitress kissed Doogie and tried to kidnap T-Bone; he responded by saying "fuck-a-pizza" over and over again, and refused to smile. We celebrated the last show with a bunch of 'za and Heinies in our chalet-loft-style rooms, though Tyson didn't show. In fact, I have no proof he's alive. Ah, rock 'n roll!