Mindful Consumption: Patronage and Support to Our Public Liquor Stores

Another conference was attended, giving me a lot more to dwell on with the current political climate in this province and reviewing the insidious changes to the Saskatchewan Employment Act, and how it ultimately affects us as not just unionized employees, but all of us as workers in general. I thought I'd better start taking a firmer stand on things; to be a more conscientious opponent against all the bad things that this government is doing to strip away our crown corporations and the privatizing of other public institutions. We ended the first evening of it having a bit of a social mixer and being well entertained with a hypnotist act. On the closing of day two, a note of gratitude came to our entire group from the young lad who was our bartender the night before. He said that ever since he worked at the hotel where our conference was, we were the people who he had so far made the most tips from; this is news coming from a guy who on numerous times served that same room full of businessmen and corporate big shots who probably drank more and had a lot more money than us to spread around for gratuities, but their habit of greed prevented them from doing so. That fact gave me lots of faith that we as unionized employees are really innately out there looking out for our fellow labourers, affiliated or not. The subjects of liquor, corporate business greed and hypnosis set my mind to write about this so called trial of privatized liquor stores in the province, and the propaganda that the Wall government is trying to use to sell us on this nonsense. Given what I said in my second sentence, one thing of meaningful action I vow to do, and we all should do as well, is this:

Stop buying from the new privatized liquor stores in this province. Why?

They take profits and revenue away from being used for public services and works in the province. With that money in pure profit diverted instead to private corporations, the government then becomes further relegated to reclaim those losses through more taxation elsewhere, or else slashing funding to other aid programs and public services and amenities. The yield from the profits going to the government coffers from just Saskatoon alone is huge: one million a month from just one of the larger ones alone, according to one of the brothers from SGEU. I dread to think about how much of a loss that would be if all of a sudden every liquor store in this province became privatized.

The employees of the private stores are paid less than the unionized workers at the public liquor stores for the same labour, and I will not support an entity that is doing its part to drive a bigger wedge between the rich and the poor, and taking away from its workers the chance of having a fair living wage, despite the fact that I'd be paying about the same price (or perhaps even more in cases) for the same product at private store. If you do manage to find a cheaper price for the same product at the private store, the average overall difference is probably amounts to within the range of a dollar. However, the difference between the hourly wage non-unionized and the unionized employee is usually greater than a dollar. Why can't they then just be paid the same higher wage if the workload and product prices have little to no significant difference? There are discounts in the public liquor stores too, but just because they aren't advertised more publically in a flyer, as with the case of the private store, we are given the illusion and misconception that there aren't any discounts at all in the public liquor store. I find it to be a strange irony that the private stores can advertise alcohol "publically" while the public stores do not.

You may, for whatever reason, truly hate your current government; and may think that by not buying from the public liquor store it will be your way of "sticking it to the man!" , but think of this repercussion. The reality is that when you take that booze money from the government and instead give it as a profit to a singular (family-owned as is the case with Sobeys here) multi-billion dollar corporation, that buys and lobbies governments on their agendas without our say so, you have basically started a trend of selling off whatever personal political power that you have left as a citizen and a consumer, to a corporation who will give you sweet-bugger-all as a result of their profits, unless you are a share-holder and relying on the crap shoot that is the stock market for a dividend return from them. When all is said and done, the ultimate thing that all governments respect is a means of filling their coffers. The more means of power that a mass of citizens has to pay its government directly, the greater the chance that same government might actually listen to and think more about those masses of people rather than listening the whims of a corporation that has become too large with money: to the point where their money is greater than that of what the rest of the masses have combined.

If there is little to no difference in savings in cost for product, what about the factors of transportation: vehicle usage, fuel, and time? On a personal level, the public liquor store I use is close enough to cycle or walk to; it's convenient, more economical, and more environmentally responsible. The cost of fuel I'd be using to drive to either private liquor store from my place on either end of this town would burn up whatever savings (if any) I would have gained from the booze I bought there. In a practical sense, it's totally pointless for me to buy from the private stores here. As it is now, in Saskatoon, the two private stores are logistically located in some very out of the way spots for the majority of the population of the city, while the public stores are distributed more closely amid the majority of the residential neighbourhoods. You certainly wouldn't be buying the privately sold liquor for the fuel economy (or to save time) in Saskatoon unless you maybe lived in the far West End or in Stonebridge. I don't even have to draw out the Hamiltonian circuits or Eularian graphs to prove it. As someone who grew up rurally, it drives me crazy when people don't more accurately account and factor in for the actual fuel and time costs in the overall "savings" when getting their purchases.

I'm a frugal person, but not to the point where my saving of a few nickels and dimes supports depriving another local worker a chance for a few more dollars and protected rights and benefits if s/he were union affiliated, and only serves to take away revenues that help my community and province, and gives more power and leverage for corporations to exploit people and crawl into the hip pocket of government leaders. Buying from the public liquor stores is a direct investment into the province of Saskatchewan. Buying public ultimately serves the greater good.

Pre/Post Birthday, Welcoming Fall

The best summer day I think I experienced this year was on this last Thursday evening. It's futile for me to struggle to find the right words for it: I can't describe perfection. The beach for the most part was great, the way the light hit the water on the lake as I was paddling around it made it both serene and surreal. The yellowing leaves along the shores reflected a golden aura around everything as the sun began setting. It was just a perfect way to close out another year of living, as it was the eve of my birthday.

The details of how I spent my birthday are too personal to share. I had quality time for solitude, and better moments with the company I did have. I was just happy to have the kind of time needed to do some navel-gazing that couldn't be impeded by any interference that remotely resembled work. Sitting still and giving myself time to think and reflect was about all I was capable of doing for a long while after the morning of that day. I tried to make some glorious (foolish) attempt that morning to break my all-time distance record for running; but the gaps between hydration stops were too large, and I was beginning to get some cramping and sciatic seize-ups. It forced me to limit myself to doing just a bit over a half-marathon distance. However, I did achieve my secondary goal of crossing all six bridges in this town. I'll need about another day from now to recover soundly after all that before I hit the trails again.

An Irish folk music band at the
Farmers' Market. Worth the
extra effort to shop locally.

The one thing I will comment about of what I gathered during my moments of sitting still and brooding on my birthday is just how much my tastes for some things have changed over time. Now, if I want an adventure, I seek something cultural or culinary rather than trekking on some weird expedition. I look at the value of objects with a more practical and larger-view attitude than with what their supposed monetary value is. Some pictures I took as I ambled around the Farmers' Market and Broadway Street Fair yesterday illustrate this point better.

My thinking today. . .a total
White Elephant.

For example, years ago, I may have been impressed and amazed to actually find a Lotus convertible, like this one shown here that I found yesterday, on the streets of this town. Now, my manner of thinking automatically comes to, "Someone has way too much money to waste on exposing and maintaining this lovely machine in the environs of this wretched climate." My attitude now is such that if you really want a sense of freedom and power, don't get a luxury sports car, or a palatial home, or anything else signifying ridiculous excess. Why get an over-powered car when you can only drive as fast as the idiot in front of you in traffic? A bigger home only compels you to waste time and energy filling it up with shit* you really don't need. I really can't be troubled with keeping up with the Joneses. Opulence and affluence doesn't really impress me anymore, I'm not sure if it ever really did. My idea of what real wealth is has changed radically, especially upon the realization of how the actual 'value' of money is established. I learned much while dabbling around the FOREX markets. It's completely arbitrary, and stupidly assigned and regulated through the means by which ultimately there is a shortage or deprivation of something for someone else, and is maintained by a system that keeps others in debt and impoverished. The drive for the super/hyper-accumulation of monetary wealth ultimately signifies one's willingness to take part in creating suffering of someone else and depletion of resources. The greed of an affluent few makes slaves and prisoners of too many.

Braised Beef Tendons from the
Mandarin Restaurant, my lunch after
my tour of the Farmer's Market.
Years ago, I wouldn't have been
so daring. This cured my aching knees.

The "wealth" I'm most impressed with and interested in now is that by which knowledge and resourcefulness is focused to use that which is deemed unusable, and puts it into a whole new light: quite literally in one case. For this instance, I was amazed by a Facebook post of a Chinese artist who took discarded drinking boxes, and created them into functional and aesthetically pleasing geodesic designs for lampshades. I've been totally enthralled, after reading articles, about the ingenuity of those eccentrics who can build homemade robots out of stripped down laser jet printers, and a crafty application of open source Arduino boards and Raspberry Pi circuits. These, plus those who can grow and produce actual foodstuffs, are the people I'll be seeking out when a global financial meltdown, energy crisis, or some other kind of apocalyptic collapse comes; not the buggers with the shiniest toys.
Gastronomically, I'm becoming more fascinated by chefs who are using entrails and offal and turning them into gourmet cuisine. I think I freaked my brother out a little bit when he phoned me to offer me a birthday greeting. Because he is a meat inspector, I presented the question to him as to where I could find a clean source of hog's blood for making my own homemade sausages**
I'm seeing innovation in what is simple and traditional (for others), and seeing the value of salvaging, and viewing those who squander and waste stuff with a lot more disdain. What I seek more of are truly Zen moments, like I had at the lake last Thursday. That's how I'm changing as I get older.

Along with this fall's harvest of fine fresh, and unconventional food, I welcome the prospect of discovering more unconventional, yet stunning, innovative ideas. I heard a rumour that there is a STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) expo coming to town sometime this month. I hope I'll get a chance to check some of it out.


* - I love that observation made by George Carlin: something akin to . . . "Have you ever noticed that as you accumulate things that your shit is "stuff", and other people's stuff is "shit'?

** - Blutwurst, boudin noir, black puddings, kishka, morcilla . . .whatever foreign or euphemistic name you give "blood sausage", it's damn delicious, and lately I've been having weird cravings for it. I first sampled it in an Argentinian parilla joint in Valencia. I can't find a source of it around here, so I'm relegated to try making my own.

The 14th of 14 days

I just arrived home from work tonight, sitting outside on my deck and watching the supermoon in all its fullness, at least for a little while before it becomes enshrouded with the approaching inky black clouds. I'm thankful for the bit of a break from the cloudiness and rain that stuck itself here for the past few days. The thought of heading out for a nightcap somewhere came, but it quickly passed. The truth is that I'm frustrated and tired; so far away from being my ideal self to even think of wandering into some pub, or attempting to be social. I'm all "peopled out"; yet I need some safe way to vent. So, I chose this route.

Between my regular job and union business, I've had a fourteen day workweek. Today was the last day of it all, and the two days off coming up will be less than ideal weather-wise. I always used to look forward to this day: the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. But now, I'm less than enthused. I'm so bankrupt energy-wise. I only feel darkening days coming ahead, both figuratively and literally. Nothing but cloudy skies and rain is in the forecast, and a possible oncoming surge of swelling river due to the havoc happening in Alberta right now. There have been power outages, and probably more to come with the predicted thunderstorms. I doubt if it will be enjoyable, or long enough to refresh me, knowing that this coming Monday I'll just be stepping into a scene of negotiations that's going to make me want to go ballistic and tear my own hair out.

One thing that has been draining me is brooding with a lot of anger. As good as it was to attend my local's convention this past Wednesday and Thursday, gaining such an overload of information and sobering picture of the facts in the report card of what these graft-fed provincial and federal governments are doing to our Crown businesses, public sectors, healthcare sectors, and the stupid amendments of our labour laws, that impact not just unionized labour, but all workers in this province, has left me completely disillusioned with right wing politics. I've given up hope in thinking that anything political will ever serve as salvation a long time ago. We live under a regime that wants to control us by enslaving us with debt, poverty, and corporate influence, and they threaten us more with messing with the terms of hours worked effecting overtime pay, and stripping us of our right to take strike action.

I hope there is someone around next time to slap some sense into me before I allow myself to take on another string days like this again. I'll close this now before I get even more enraged as I start elaborating on the topic. The best thing I can do for myself for the next couple days is to do anything else than be a miserable bastard. I just don't know what or where in my private home life that I should pick up on out of the numerous things around here that seem to have been neglected in the past two weeks.

Welcoming Spring, Touring the Man Show

Acupuncture: the back of my leg's
 impression of being a porcupine.

It's Saturday. . .officially. I finally woke up in the morning without my body greeting me with as much severe inflammation, cramping, and pain. Yesterday's session of treatments were a bit diminished in intensity than last time, that is, I felt less inclined to pass out when my leg muscles were being shifted, stretched, and kneaded. Desperation to expedite the healing process has made me more open to testing alternative forms of medicine. I have to make it a point not to favour the stricken leg anymore, and avoid limping so much. Sure, it's painful; but the extra use of the cane and limping was causing other problems. Deep breathing, and counting out my pace is helping. I had enough tolerance for the discomfort to tidy up inside a bit, and to use a little time to set up my deck furniture and clear the dust and debris that the six-month winter blew in and deposited on my balcony. I wanted to have it clean enough to enjoy some fresh air and a different vista for the evening; to hopefully watch last of this snow all melt away. I sit out here now, enjoying some whisky as I write this account. My peace is being ruined though by some dummies stunting with their vehicles (big half-ton trucks) south of here. I'll get to mentioning more about those kinds of morons in a minute.


There was desperation to do anything outside of the home today, so desperate in fact that I actually made an effort to circulate socially and I took a peek around the venue that was closest to me: The 2013 MAN SHOW. I don't honestly know why I opted to tour this event. It's enough to know that I am a man, with mind/body format compatibility, and I don't really need to do much in terms of shopping around, or finding other ways to waste money and time, to validate that fact. I'm not so insecure with myself that I need to latch onto and depend on some sort of power and status symbols to delude myself to thinking that those things will somehow magically make me more manly. When there is a expo in town with the advertising in big bold letters saying MAN SHOW, I automatically presume that there will be nothing much there for actual personal betterment for me as a man. What my preconception of a Man Show is, in my mind, is an expo of marketing stuff(s) that:

1. is just a tacky looking piece of shit that's built bigger than it needs to be, and just wastes space. 
2. is made to go faster, or have more power output than most people reasonably know how to control.
3. are mechanical and electrical things that exceed certain thresholds of making an obnoxious amount of noise, and using a wasteful amount of fuel/energy to power.
4. is a ridiculous attempt of automation of something to make it "time saving", but in reality is a lot less time/energy efficient or precise than managing the same work with more conventional or manual tools and methods.
5. are leisure crafts and vehicles that you pay thousands of dollars for, to use only a few days of the year.
6. are more technically enhanced ways of isolating yourself and vegetating.
7. if it's a food product, has the right combinations of deep fried/char-broiled protein, grease/trans-fats, salt/spice, which along with beer, induces the maximum capacity for raucous bouts of belching and farting.

Well look here. . . it's a perfect example of a
Skinny-whitetrash-mobile, or a.k.a. "the dumb-fuck truck"
 because that's mostly who you'll find driving them.
This truck pretty much represents the first five
 points I mentioned earlier**. I could also simply call it
"the over-compensator", but then I'd be using concepts these
poor rednecks wouldn't understand, or know how to spell.
Nothing screams out insecurity of one's manhood more than
when I see the types of  jerks who drive these stupid things
around, but yet don't have a job that justifies (or can pay for)
such a massive fuel-wasting piece of steel.

 

However, during this past while of lingering around home for so long, stricken with pain, and seeing how irritable and grouchy I was getting, it was undeniable that there evidently was something missing from around here that could have gave me better comfort in my place. Anyway, I was left to wonder if there were actually any other material things that this event would have had on display that could have brought me contentment. I got curious about it. So, I went just to explore it anyway, and perhaps discover what those things might be.


As I suspected, the event was largely a waste of my time, I only threw my name in a couple of cash prize draws; everything else that was up for grabs in a raffle was too grossly impractical for a condo dweller. There, of course, was a multitude of things stuffed with an over-powered engine, extreme sports gear, golfing supplies, and the ubiquitous presence of things that comprise the ideal "man cave"*. There was also, however, stuff that I wouldn't define as manly at all. Some of the pictures illustrate the point better than my words could. Like this photo of the pink golf cart . . . at THE MAN SHOW?!!!. . . I must have missed some circulated memo about how there's nothing that makes a greater statement that you're a studly pillar of pure testosterone than cruising around in a pink golf cart. I was looking around for the circus clown who owned this thing. Other stuff that was there, that one wouldn't exactly think of as manly, were spa treatment compounds, like Dead Sea Salt hand exfoliant. I also found all kinds of other crazy instances of strange juxtapositions. Here you are, surrounded by these super turbo-charged, jacked up, drive-through-the-swamp-and-muskeg, mega-4x4 half ton trucks, meant to do hard-ass labour, and withstand the worse physical punishment and conditions that can be thrown at a vehicle. . . and what are they selling for them right next to them as accessories, at the MAN SHOW? . . . air freshener scents!

That alone is a sure hint that the buyers don't really want these trucks for doing the actual dirty heavy work for which they were designed. If you have a super-charged half-ton truck, yet don't use it for real work, have all the chrome always polished up, smelling like an ocean breeze or pina colada, and looking like you are going to take friggin' Cinderella to the ball, it's pretty blunt and apparent that you are using it as a status symbol for a delusional sense of power. The only practical reason to have an air freshener handy for the kind of stupid loser bastards who I see driving these kinds of trucks are to hide the smell of booze and weed after they get pulled over.

Another unique thing there was a personal hovercraft. It has to be fully inflated when you want to have some real fun with it, the action happens underneath a skirt, there is a powerful thrust involved; how could a phallic symbol like this not be at the MAN SHOW? Points #2 through #5 covered by this thing. I must confess though that I'd like to try one of these things out at least once to see how it handles.

*- A stupid piece and insulting bit of terminology - since my dwelling's lone human occupant is a male, it by default makes it a "man cave", and I endeavour to be at least a little more sophisticated and worldly than an average troglodyte.

**- The other indicator of how much a vehicle is ridiculously and impractically designed, and made strictly for the senses, is the amount of female models hired to hang around the thing in a showcase.









Groundhog Day, Taboo Night

I bought some kvass today at the Ukrainian import grocery store, and I'm enjoying some as I write this. I don't know what is different about this new brand*, but it seems to be both sticking my brain into overdrive, and making me a little more disinhibited in thinking.

If the cold snap we had, with wind chills dipping down to -48 degrees, had extended into today; and if any groundhog, like Wiarton Willie**, was a resident here in Saskatchewan, I'm imagining that the result after prodding the little bugger to give us a forecast would be just a scene of a furry little rodent arm sticking out from the burrow's entrance, just long enough to give everyone the finger, and then quickly disappearing; with no other trace of him to be seen again until well into mid-April (of perhaps next year).

Thankfully, for this Groundhog Day, it has finally become 25 degrees 'warmer' (the wind chill was still below -20). Groundhogs weren't poking their heads outside around here today, but at least the people finally were, most looking quite grateful for the reprieve. It was my day off, and being concordant with the spirit and theme of the movie, Groundhog Day, I have been desperate for anything radically different from what's coming to look like an infinite loop of cold mediocrity.
I couldn't think of anything else happening locally that was a more fitting way to get out to a social venue and celebrate the escape of such monotony than to explore Taboo 2013.

Taboo is the first consumer expo I got to check out for the year for this new trade show season. It's basically a forum for all things erotic, sensual, and generally anything else 420 friendly. Around this conservative town, this is the closest it gets (as far as I know) to being anything as sort of Mardi Gras-esque. Watching the dancers was the most entertaining part of the event for me. I have a new respect for the strength and grace involved in the art of pole-dancing. It was packed. I don't usually opt to go to such crowded venues, but this was different. I show up to such things to view and study them anthropologically: to basically people watch.

What really makes me happy and interested about such an event, besides seeing scores of beautiful women, is seeing all types of people, of all adult ages, come out of the woodwork, and enter this public place walking around there with a sense of being liberated and being real about what they enjoy and want to include in the most private aspect their lives; it's like you can see it in their eyes. The atmosphere is sort of rich with good karma when people are in a zone with the intent of finding, or learning about, something that's pleasurable for themselves and their loved ones. When people are leaving the useless emotions of guilt and shame at the door, being completely honest with themselves about what truly pleasures them on the level of bodily sensuality, delusions are shattered. I'm happy when I find and discover people genuinely being this honest about themselves. One would find more honest people at a event like this than they would in a church, or any other religious congregation***. When delusions about living are stripped away, we approach enlightenment. This is what Zen teaches me****.

After being there, I realize that this is the first time in a long time that I've sensed that kind of air of positivity. I'm wishing now that this event occurred more than just once a year.

Adding this thought latently: if I were the groundhog responsible for forecasting the climate of others' negativity, I'd be seeing lots of ominous shadows. Hunkering down somewhere, away from it all for the next six weeks, seems pretty much like the more attractive option right now.

* Perhaps it was brewed from rye grown around Chernobyl, that was tainted with some sort of radioactive ergot spores, that made some super-potent residue LSD. Just a theory.
** Canada's version of Punxsutawney Phil
*** It's been my experience that the more people are tuned into religion, the more likely they are to slander and back-stab me.
**** I forget the name of the monk involved in a Zen story I heard, but the story goes as such: there was once a Zen Buddhist monk in feudal Japan who was approached by the abbot of his monastery, who heard testimomy from reliable sources that this monk often caroused, and took carnal pleasures with consorts and other servants. When the abbot confronted him about his conduct, the monk's open and honest retort was something like this: "Enjoying the company of, embracing, and making love to a beautiful woman . . . how can anyone ever think that this is the gateway to hell?" 

Convention Crashing

I finally feel like I’m starting to ditch this cold, or whatever bug this is. I realized since the New Year began that I haven’t been really anywhere else except work and home, and doing a bit of shopping only for the essential and practical because I have been either sick, or stressed with fixing stuff. I only had one rendez-vous for a quick belated birthday lunch, but that’s about it: almost no extracurricular social-life whatsoever since the year started.  I thought I better do something about that.

After some strange discussions and revelations that were aired yesterday in a couple of conversations, I’ve come to realize that one of the nice advantages about living in my area of town is that I’m close to all the action when the more interesting conventions, trade fairs, expos, and other odd flea markets or concerts are scheduled at the Prairieland Buildings. I live close enough that I don’t have to drive to see any that interest me, so it’s a hop, skip, and a jump there. Also, when sometimes such events are licensed, it’s a convenient and reasonably safe stagger, trip, and a fall back home if I ever do risk being over the legal limit.

I’m not an overly-social person (obviously), but I think conventions/trade shows/expos are great, because one can walk in there as a total stranger, and generally find some common attraction of interest for sensible discussion for like minded people to chat about. It’s a far more organic affair and natural way of socializing and networking for me than sitting around a stupid bar/ lounge under some pretence of “relaxing” amid music blaring too loud for to have a comprehensible conversation, watching other people make a drama, argue, and bitch about work or life in general, as they (not so) gradually lose more inhibition to alcohol. At a bar, it seems that you’re relegated to be constantly alert and active in dealing with someone who is trying to bullshit you, or with someone just plainly being an asshole; plus you’re more likely to be seen as and treated that way yourself in a bar. I can’t be bothered. It’s hard for me to meet and interface with people in any bar. There are no cool bars around for me anymore. I mostly enter and leave them as an anonymous stranger. If it's a casino, I usually just end up leaving as a much broker anonymous stranger.

I find that’s less likely to happen at a trade show or expo, even when there has been copious alcohol consumption, at least at the past events I have attended*. Whether it’s listening to a lecture or seminar, formally discussing business and making queries with promoters/sales reps, or informally chatting with other interested attendees, I generally find people at such conferences respectful, open, likeable, and most importantly, and genuine and honest about what like want and like in business/work or leisure life. There are, of course, conventions you would never find me attending. The antitheses of the kind of people I like finding at conventions are: the sanctimonious personalities who fall easily into self-delusion; hence you won’t catch me anywhere near a political convention, or religious jamboree of any sort. Religious fanatics and political activists are some of the worst of the toxic bullshitters around; usually none of their topics are of passionate interest to me. I also wouldn’t be convening with the typical people in the crowd you’d find at a Megadeath/Mötorhead concert**. These kinds of concerts, (plus the Ex in general) attract a lot of the social riff-raff. When these types of people amass, it’s doubtful that anything good comes out of it. That’s one downside of living so close to Prairieland Centre.

I regret missing the last Health and Wellness show that came here last week because, ironically, I was just too sick. Of the future events I’d like to see/attend there are: the next Top of the Hops, The Sports and Leisure Show, and any running/marathon training workshops that may be there (or elsewhere in town). I plan to crash a few others too for the sake of novelty. Doing so would satisfy many of the objectives on my Things I Need to Know How to Do Better list I made in the New Year.

*- Top of the Hops is an awesome Expo for those who love sampling different beers, wines, and spirits. Check it out in May! It’s so much fun, and so entirely civilized considering how much liquor is there.

**- This was just a convenient contemporary example to use. They played here yesterday (Feb 16^th). That means there were probably one or two totally empty trailer parks last night around Saskatoon. My neighbourhood was probably swarming with (wannabe) bikers, dope heads and dealers. I did hear lots of sirens last night. It could have been worse; I should be thankful that this didn’t occur while it was summer on the outdoor stage. It’s not so much the band(s)/genre that I despise, since I have and play some metal tunes myself. However, I think that a person would have to have a really polluted psyche if metal was/is/will be the only genre of music they ever like or listen to. It’s also disturbing and pathetic to see guys in their 40s and 50s being metal band groupies. Grow up for crissakes guys . . . and get a bloody haircut!