Wandering specutively

The recent closure of Joe’s Warehouse restaurant and Smooth Herman’s Cabaret in Sydney has sparked much debate and speculation among the people I know, many of whom are fearing the worst. One young woman posted on the internet social network Facebook that she fears the CBRM is becoming a ghost town, while one of her friends said, “I'm getting out while the getting’s good. A chalk line should be drawn around this place.”

I cannot help but wonder what kind of economy and future we’d be facing if the Soundstage at Sydport had survived.

During its short time, the soundstage produced two seasons of award winning television in the CBC series “Pit Pony.” While this does not seem like much, it was only the beginning of what could have been. During that short time several hundred people found employment, from sketch artists and painters to carpenters, electricians, wardrobe people, make-up artists, drivers, cooks and extras; the list goes on. Besides the work done directly on site, two world class recording studios were very active producing the soundtrack and dubbing in additional voices. Local people were learning very employable skills such as camera operation, set design, and much more.

A film industry in Cape Breton would have developed into a more active and sustaining arts community including musicians, visual artists, crafters and more. As well our downtown hotels and restaurants would have been kept busy and without a doubt the business would have eventually grown to the point where more hotels and restaurants would be necessary, resulting in more jobs.

The soundstage could have been available to movie companies from other parts of Canada and the U.S. and around the world, looking for our unique settings to shoot feature films, and our skilled people could have been employed. Cape Breton University would have been able to expand to teach the necessary skills to our youth who are leaving this island to seek stability in other provinces, denying this region of their disposable income and taxes.

Discussing this ten years after the fact does little good though; I’ll miss my friends when they’ve moved on.

~Still Wandering...

Wandering with Injustice

Olympics... The word conjures up images of Gold medals, National pride, and Glory.

To me, it means something very different. To me it represents millions of dollars that could have been directed toward aid to relieve the suffering in Haiti, Chilé, and now Pakistan. When one ticket to a hockey game sells for the equivalent of two year’s tuition at an average university, or the annual salary of many average Canadians, there is something wrong.

More attention is being paid to not only winning, but winning gold medals than to sportsmanship. Canadian visually impaired (legally “blind”) skier Brian McKeever will not be allowed to compete because his chances of winning gold are not as great as others’. That flies directly in the face of what “games” and “sports” are supposed to represent. Growing up, I was told to “be a good sport” and not be angry or bitter when I was outdone by a rival, and yet this one athlete is being denied the opportunity to be a good sport by team officials simply because his chances of winning gold are not as good as someone else’s. That is NOT good sportsmanship; that is greed.

It is that kind of greed that is preventing underprivileged people, not only in Canada but around the world, from receiving quality education, health care, and in many cases even more basic necessities like food, shelter, and safe drinking water.

When will this blindness end? When will we once again value human life in higher regard than gold trinkets? When will a game once again become simply a game? When will disaster relief efforts take priority over making ourselves look good to the rest of the world, most of whom already envy our quality of life? Is a gold medal more important than helping others achieve the standard of living we enjoy and they envy?

Before anyone gets the idea that I'm against sporting events, let me state that I understand that an active body is a healthy body. I'm not anti-sport, but I AM anti-waste, and I wish this money could be put to some use that will have long-lasting benefits to greater numbers of people.

I have not watched any of the Olympic events on Television; I have no idea nor desire to know what is happening aside from what I’m told by other members of our society via facebook and twitter.

And that is more than I care to know.

Wandering in self-description.

Recently, besides the many changes in my life that have brought me right back to where I was a year ago, I made contact with a young woman in my hometown of Stanley, New Brunswick. This young woman, Jessica, is the creator and administrator of a Facebook page, "Village of Stanley." She had posted an article offering blogging availability on VillageofStanley.com and I thought it would be a great way to stay in touch with my homeland and also attract a few new followers to my blog.

With that in mind, and for those of you who might not know some of the details of my life, I am excerpting the "About me" section of my web page, www.lonniejonesdrums.piczo.com in order that I may fill in some of the blanks.

"Music, particularly rhythmic music, has always been a part of my life. I was born to working class parents in central New Brunswick Canada and grew up in some of the most beautiful country Eastern Canada has to offer. Summers were spent on the rivers, nearby farms and in the forests. Winters were spent skating, snowshoeing and attending school functions.

Music was always present; whether coming in from school or some weekend activity, my mother had the radio on. Dad also had the radio on constantly in the car, so I really can't remember a time when music wasn't woven into the very fabric of my life.

I was introduced to music at an age too young to have a number. I was introduced to rhythm sometime in the early 1960s. The so called British Invasion had begun to wash up on North American shores and I was immediately drawn to its sound; The Beatles, The Hollies, The Dave Clark Five, The Rolling Stones, and the list goes on, I was enthralled.

By the time I began playing drums, real drums, the music had changed and the San Francisco scene was taking over. Protests against the war in Viet Nam were beginning to influence the music and its listeners to no small degree. The Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Country Joe MacDonald, The Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother and The Holding Company, Steppenwolf; these were turbulent times and the music reflected that turbulence. Still the British came... Joe Cocker, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, Humble Pie, and with them came U.S. ex-patriot Jimi Hendrix, returning to America with his British band to fuse all the sounds of the '60s into one exciting new assault to our senses.

It was a time of sex, drugs and Rock and Roll and I was caught right in the middle of it all, playing drums and having the time of my life.

The beginning of the 1970s saw even more turbulence and change. Music began to soften, the anger of the '60s was replaced by a smoother, folkier sound; Crosby, Stills, and Nash sang three part harmonies so tightly they sounded like an entire choir. James Taylor, Cat Stevens, Harry Chapin, Jackson Browne, Bruce Cockburn, Neil Young; their sound was clean and sweet.

Throughout all this there had been the crossover acts; those equally comfortable in nearly any genre, from folk to rock to country. The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers, Manassas, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, The Eagles, and of course four fellow Canadians and a good ol' boy from Arkansas, The Band. My drums kept me active, in touch and happy.

My dream was always to play drums for a living. I had several "day jobs" after leaving High School but always I intended to be a full time professional drummer. This opportunity came in October of 1980 when I was hired by the Garrison Brothers, a Folk/Country act out of Massachusetts and New Hampshire. With management in Massachusetts and New Brunswick they truly were an international act. Add to that the fact that two of the members were from Ireland and you have a band with roots on both sides of the Atlantic and in three countries.

My tenure with the Garrisons lasted four wonderful, complete years, ending on December 23rd, 1984. From there, I went with a hardcore Country singer of Acadian origin named Robert Bouchard. It wasn't a great match but the cash was very good. I toured with him until October, 1985 when I got a call from Will Miller of the Irish Rovers and a few short weeks later I was touring New Zealand.

Returning from New Zealand in December 1985, I spent the next four months at home, attempting to find another band to work with. I managed to land a tour with a young lady out of Brampton Ontario named Elaine Jarvis. Elaine sang a mixture of Country, blues, R and B, light rock and jazz. Her gig was fun and profitable but grueling. By September 1986, I was ready for a break and returned home. I had managed to get hired for a mini-tour with Susan Jacks and went into rehearsals in late November. When that tour was over, I left the road and settled into domestic life, performing with a local theatre company and teaching drums a couple of evenings a week.

After two seasons with the theatre company, I began to focus on teaching, expanding my studio and teaching four evenings every week and playing with up to four local bands on the weekends.

On February 14, 1997, fire broke out in the building where I had my teaching studio. It is estimated the fire broke out at about 11:15 a.m. and by 3:00p.m. it was obvious nothing could be done to save it. Fortunately, I was late in getting there because I was actually on my way to the studio to put in some practice time and was planning on being there at around 10:30. If I had been there, I would not be writing this since there was no fire escape from my section of the building.

After the fire, some friends of mine organized a fundraiser and bought me the drums I am using today. I immediately went to work on a college production of The Wizard of Oz and then spent the summer performing Dinner Theatre. January 1998 saw me back at work in the Country music genre and I spent two and a half years touring Canada and the U.S. before that act folded. By the time I had arrived home from the last tour with Scott Phillips, I had a new gig with another country act named Reatta. Unfortunately, they folded in September of 2000 and I stayed out of work until January 2005.

Those were very dark times for me. Depression, anger, bitterness and many more emotions became my constant companions. I changed my focus and began studying Tai Chi and began spending more time canoeing, hiking, cycling and accepting the new life I had been thrust into. When I received the call to join Bad Habits, I had my drums up for sale and had begun to think I was facing retirement.

I had been in the original incarnation of Bad Habits in 1989 and looked forward to the return. Two former members of Reatta, brother and sister Darcy and Erin O'Brien, both powerful singers in the Reatta days were fronting Bad Habits so it was like going home. Sadly, the volume levels onstage were unbearable and my ears were being badly damaged, so in July 2006 I was forced to make a painful decision. I left Bad Habits and began to focus on teaching and painting.

In September 2008, I began teaching at Bay Music School in Glace Bay Nova Scotia, and began preparations to begin my fourth year at McKenzie College in Sydney. In May of 2009, I began writing part time for Los Cabos Drumsticks which led to full-time work in September. This also necessitated a move back to Fredericton which I found exciting and fun. To quote Dracula in the 1992 film, “That relationship was not entirely successful...” and led to my return to Cape Breton where it is much less expensive to live. I found myself once again teaching at McKenzie College, and I’ve been asked to return to Bay Music which I most certainly will do once some details have been negotiated.

And so my life continues in ways that seem odd at times, yet even the oddness has its place and has become somewhat comfortable in my advanced stage of middle age. With so many interests and activities, my days are never boring.


~Still Wandering...

Wandering Back to The Middle.

Life is strange. One minute you’re certain of things, you have a good idea of what’s going on and where you’re going; the next, you’re baffled, confused, unsure of yourself, and utterly despondent. Within a heartbeat it can all change yet again. That is how I find my life these last few days.

It is said that every twenty seven years Saturn makes its return to the exact same place in the universe where it was at the moment of your birth. It is further said that while Saturn is neither malevolent nor benevolent, it IS very demanding. This is supposedly why we lose so many people in their twenty-seventh year. If that is true, then it stands to reason that in another twenty seven years, during a person’s fifty-fourth year, the same thing would occur. So it has been with me this year.

I had thought that doing as Saturn does and returning to the exact same place in the Universe where I had been the moment of my birth would give me some peace; that I could still the restlessness within and conclude my life without turmoil. For a while it seemed to be so, but as 2009 ended and we entered 2010, and I entered the second half of my “Saturn return,” I find myself once again unable to still my monkey mind.

As most of you already know, I made the return to my origins in August, and began working in September.

As Christmas approached, I began making plans to go to Cape Breton where I still have a home and a very active relationship. During the very short time I was there, it surprised me just how easily I slipped back into the daily cycle of living. Many friends came by to visit, and I was more at peace than I had been in a long while.

When I returned to Fredericton to begin a new week of work, it felt as if the Universe was giving me very clear messages that this was not the life I should be living. Once I had reached the Cobequid toll station, I began to encounter inclement weather; the further west I drove, the worse it got. By the time I had reached my apartment in Fredericton, there was nearly a foot (30 cm) of snow on the ground. Driving was treacherous, and by the time I had dropped the rental car off, many of the taxi companies had pulled their cars off the road.

The following day, I took my used car to the bank, the Mall, and then stopped to gas up. It didn’t start again. That to me was the final straw.

In discussion with my employer, it was concluded that I could do much of my work from home; home being anywhere I could connect to the internet. There would be a reduction in hours of course, and consequently a reduction in pay, but I could still accomplish my objectives and continue to contribute to the company in a positive manner.

And so with that, I have chosen to return to Cape Breton, to my home and relationship. I will have my back yard which I have put a lot of work into over the years. I’ll have the cycling club to ride with again, my familiar hiking trails and the beach down the road for doing Tai Chi.

My departure date is set for January 14. Since I hadn’t signed a lease, leaving my apartment was no problem. In fact, I have established a very good relationship with my landlord, he being a former drummer too.

I will miss my hometown, the place of my birth. My spirit rests easily here and there is tranquility in the fields and forests, but my time to return is not yet. I had thought I was bringing my life full circle, but it seems there is still more middle to accomplish before the circle can be completed.

To all my friends in Fredericton and surrounding area, I’ll miss you and I’ll try to get back to visit as often as possible.

To all my friends in Cape Breton, I’ll see you soon.

~Still Wandering.

Wandering in The Post-Love Wasteland; Epilogue.

As 2009 comes to a conclusion, I once again, and for the final time, address the end of the ‘60s.

Forty years ago, life was tumultuous and yet as seen from today’s perspective, it seemed simpler. Of course, I was much younger and to a person in the height of middle age, adolescent life always seems simpler.

I cannot stress enough that perspective is also important. I know many people who look back on their adolescence with loathing and treasure their middle years.

However, for me the life I had forty years ago was wonderful. Looking back upon it, I see what my parents meant when they told me I was living the best years of my life.

Real life began to seep in soon after that. In 1970, U.S. soldiers opened fire on a group of Viet Nam war protesters at Kent State University in Ohio, killing four. Neil Young was so angered by this news that he wrote “Ohio” to mark the occasion and express his rage.

It was in the ‘70s that I also began to lose friends and school mates to accidents... car accidents, drowning, and a couple of unexplained deaths left us all shaken. My father’s passing in 1976 at the age of fifty four was a major shock to me and the marriages and divorces most of my friends experienced brought the reality of adult life to the fore.

We’ve all grown; experienced joy and suffering, had triumphs and failures, gains and losses. In the end we will no doubt find that our generation is structurally no different than any other generation at any other time in history. From my own perspective, that step where I sat in 1967 when I heard the declaration labeling it “The Summer of Love” was rebuilt and now faces another direction. Sitting there doesn’t feel the same facing the street instead of the yard. The trees are now much taller, blocking my view of the buildings that remain; many of the older ones having been torn down in the years that have passed. In fact the step, along with the house it is attached to will soon be on the market to be sold. After many years as a struggling and sometimes successful musician, I am once again working a day job, and getting up in the morning is so completely opposite to going to bed then.

Yet, I do not despair, for I have learned SO much along the way and what I have learned is far more valuable than the childhood life that I can select to remember only in the fondest and best ways. I have chosen to not remember easily the angst of adolescence or the not so great experiences of my early adult life. In the same way, in years to come, the difficulties I experience today will soften and I will remember these days fondly as I compare the perceived difficulties of being a senior citizen with the relative ease of middle age.

~Still Wandering....

Wandering in Social Networks.

Sometimes, as I wait for my ride to the office, I have random thoughts that seem to come from nowhere. Occasionally these thoughts go somewhere that seems to make sense. Such is the case of my Friday morning musings.

One of my duties at work is to maintain the company's Twitter site. (For those of you who use twitter, we're loscabossticks) I have frequently wondered exactly what Twitter was and how it could help our business. After all,drummers don't go on Twitter to buy sticks, nor do they get listings of the retailers or manufacturers there.

For years there have been "Social Networking Sites;" Hi-5, My Space, Facebook... They seemed to me to be all silly and a sort of waste of time. But as I stood in the cool morning air Friday morning, something else became apparent to me. They're online hugs!

We've all become so wrapped up in our work schedules, our families, the distance we all live from our friends, and our fear of being outside our homes, that online social networking sites have become our preferred method of staying in touch.

I myself have many friends I no longer see because I have moved since I last saw them, but I've reconnected with them through Facebook. In some cases, I've communicated with a friend through Facebook more than I did when we lived in the same town.

The most important fact though, is that we manage to stay in touch. Occasionally, we manage to get together in person and have a coffee or take a bike ride together.

While it's preferable to meet face to face, and share friendship in person, if that's unavailable, take advantage of the technology and share some online hugs with the people you care about.

Hugs everyone!

~Still Wandering...

Wandering Along

Much has happened since my last post. I have been working full time at Los Cabos Drumsticks since the 7th of September. This has all been a great deal of adjustment on so many levels... Besides the new job, there are new hours, (I start work at 8:00 A.M. As a musician, I used to go to bed at 3:30 - 4:00 A.M.) a new address, new lifestyle, and new shopping habits. It has left me with less time with which to do certain things like maintain this blog. Monday night, I was frustrated and angry with all the things I felt I had to accomplish before I went to bed. But here it is Wednesday and some (most) of those things are still undone, and no one has died or been badly mutilated as a result. So the things of great importance are not so important in the end.

In the weeks since I have moved to Fredericton, I have had many ideas for blog entries, and today, I can think of none of them. That is not to say that they weren't important or meaningful, but to say that I seem to have reached a level of contentment where I don't seem to have to say anything about anything. I do not look forward to the cold weather we will soon be experiencing, but being here, closer to my family will more than compensate for any discomfort I may be forced to endure.

~Still Wandering...