back to school...

Wow. Who would think that a course on writing would keep me so far away from actually doing it. Don't get me wrong it's awesome! I love the idea of braking down stories, characters and scripts. Shit, have the classes are watching movies, so no complaining. My head is spinning around so fast I can barely keep up to my own narrative. Assignments and deadlines now actually exist, unlike when I would create them on my own. Then miss them. Crash courses in high school English, and pep talks about not being a douche to your fellow classmates. After all, one day you might need them.  The coles notes are this....learn the rules and the existing structure, then you can disregard Industry standards.

Okay, enough of the that shit. Let the ranting continue.

On the 26th of April me and friend headed for the west coast from Toronto. I suckered him in with promises of Chicago Cubs in Wrigley field and the possibility of good conversation. Chicago was awesome. I could've slipped right into a life there as long as the word "Gun" never came up. It was very much like Toronto in personality, and architecture. The people were fantastic, and nobody tried to kill me even though it was game 7 of the Canucks vs Blackhawks. I pretended to be a Chi fan and even did some "cheering" when Toews scored near the end of the game. Finally those lost years in acting school were paying off, and probably saving my life. Of course when Burrows eventually potted the winner, the bar rang silent. I skipped off to the bathroom, head sagging in disappointment, then mimed a victory dance in a washroom stall. The first leg of our journey had ended, and  now it was the dreaded 94east highway of boredom.

 I'm sure that places like Minnesota, and North Dakota are actually really nice, and the people are probably fantastic. It wasn't them, it was us. We were hungover and the highlight was over after the first night. Sure the Painted Canyons were beautiful. The waitress in St.Cloud was pleasant. From that point on we knew what to expect. The third night we stayed in Billings Montana, and apparently every open door is a casino. The women's prison is downtown, you can smoke everywhere, and the word "hockey" has absolutely no meaning. We eventually got the waitress in the bar to find the game, and every rifle toting patron looked at us like it was the pride parade, but we stood tall, and cheered quietly.

 The next morning was going to be a big push. We'd fucked our schedule by being hungover on day two, which was supposed to be our longest day, but became our shortest. Now we were going to try and make it all the way to Vancouver by later that evening. There were elongated silences while we gathered ourselves mentally for what we were attempting. Immediately around the first turn were massive mountains. I knew there would be some, but not this size. Most of the land leading to that corner was fairly flat. There were indications that there would be some elevations, but I was shocked. Granted it has been a while since I've seen mountains of any kind, let alone monsters. All of a sudden we realized that we knew nothing of western Montana, and had no idea that we would be driving through the pan handle of Idaho. And that Idaho had  mountains....big fucking mountains. I didn't see a potato anywhere! The new highlight of our journey was this little town off the highway in Idaho called Wallace. It looked as though they were filming an old movie there. All the buildings, and houses were from the 40's. It was crazy. It would be worth the drive out there to stay a few days in historic Wallace.

After that we were in to the 500miles of home stretch. Washington was a sight for sore eyes, and I was thoroughly impressed with gigantic wind farm. It looked so cool. We both started to fade quick in Washington. Sure the GPS, Marilyn, was setting us up for an arrival time of 11:00, but it seemed very far away. The street turned in highway and the peaceful drive through empty spaces was no replaced with the intermittent wipers on the outskirts of Seattle. Seattle was too close, we couldn't give up. We were now heading north, and the signs were counting down to the border. I couldn't wait to be on home soil. Drink a double-double from Timmies, be able to read the road sign without doing math, not fear rednecks. From the border crossing I could see the lights on the mountain guiding me home. I cracked the window to smell the sea air, and two guys had been living in that car for a long time. I was rejuvenated driving along a street I grew up being on.

 We rode Granville right into the city center to visit a friend at his bar. I changed out of my sweat pants and tried to smell better, but it most likely didn't improve. Thank god we were in the hippy capital of Canada. As the beer touched my lips I knew that I couldn't drink it without drinking 40. Ben Smashed back his, and mine and those almost sunk him. We were beat down, tired, and looked dishevelled. We quickly returned to the car for the final ten minutes of our trip. My sister and her boyfriend Chris awaited our arrival with iced cold Kokanee, and roaring fire. Chris lives in this tree-lined house with six foot fences keeping the people out. The path down to the house is led by hanging lights under the over grown branches that create the coolest archway. Guarding the property are two full blooded wolves, Tundra and Tonka. These are the most gorgeous animals,  that howl in tune with distant sirens. I thought I'd maybe fallen asleep at a stop sign and had drifted into Narnia. Of course the B.C. hospitality is gracious, and caring. We ate, we slept. Our journey across the country had ended. It was a wonderful surprise that most of the geography was unknown by either of us, and we think we're smart. We agreed on most things, we solved Major League Baseballs biggest problems, and learned that using your cel phone in the US can be very costly.

 Being here is very bitter sweet for me. It's what I've wanted for a long time, and Film School is an added bonus. Yet, my little ones and partner aren't here. The gorgeous views, and breath taking mountains are lost when  you don't have those you love there to share them. The positive is that it's almost been two weeks, which means that there's only about four to go! Soon we'll be riding bikes around Stanley Park, and playing at Kits beach. Until then I'm going to put my head down, and study. Hopefully the magic of Narnia will speed up the time.

PS- it's Mothers Day. 13 years ago on May 5th my mother died. Her funeral was the Saturday and the following day was Mother's Day, so this day absolutely sucks for me. It has taken on a new meaning since having kids....but still sucks. So please take the time to tell your mother that you love her. Simply because there are plenty of people who cannot. If your Mother has passed, then I raise my glass with you...