Yes – I know, I know! The fall equinox is not officially until the 23rd (@ 03:50 Eastern Time – thanks Interwebs) but that’s on a Monday – and still a workday for yours truly. So I’m posting this on the first day of Old-school FallTM, you know – September 21st? Like June 21 is the start of Old-school SummerTM, March 21 is Old-school SpringTM and December 21 is Old-school WinterTM?
Imagine my chagrin at seeing this sign at the start of my favourite, local walking trail:
WTF? Not THIS again. The trail was closed last fall too. Hmmmph! It’s almost as if the City is saying: Let’s see, what is the best time for people to enjoy this trail? Fall? Right, then – that’s when we’ll shut ‘er down. Again. For the second year running.
I shrugged my shoulders and sauntered past the sign, to see what was the issue. I walked on and on, thoroughly enjoying my lawlessness the scenery for many glorious minutes, until I came upon this sign:
Oh goody. They are going to replace the bridge. But work hasn’t begun yet. I appreciate the City looking out for my personal safety. They can consider their asses well and truly covered with this sign. I’ll be sure not to sue no matter what happens.
You guessed it, my fellow Badassians! I blew past this sign too. With not even a wobble on the bridge. That looked and behaved exactly as it had the week before and every day I’ve been on it for the past – oh – 15 years. And was I ever glad I took a chance.
(Sometimes my rebellious nature does come in handy – are you reading this in the Hereafter, Mom and Dad?)
Because I caught sight of this majestic blue heron, and this lovely Monarch,and these gorgeous leaves changing colour already,and these beautiful asters,and these wild grapes and viburnum berries, nicely intermingled…and these lovely viburnum berries with the glorious blue sky peeking through.
I suppose one day soon I will come upon the bridge (or more likely where the bridge USED to be) and be thwarted from walking further until it is repaired and replaced. But until then, it will take more than a couple of signs to keep me off this trail in the Fall!
And that’s a Badass promise!
What rules have you been breaking lately? Do tell!
Last week I travelled to Dallas, Texas for my last-ever North American Lab Managers meeting. Over the past 14 years I have been able to travel to places like California, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, Quebec, Minnesota, New York and Maine to meet up with my fellow lab managers to discuss various topics related to our jobs testing milk for the purpose of dairy herd improvement.
The usual suspects appear at these meetings year-after-year and you get to know and respect them soon enough and look forward to catching up with them at this annual conference. So this last meeting was bittersweet, for me.
I was pleased to hear from so many of my colleagues that I will be missed. A couple of my partners-in-crime at this meeting have promised to drop in on me at my new home on Vancouver Island. I may wake up one day to find an RV full of these rascals parked in my driveway. Which would be way cool, as they are a fun bunch, and we had a lotta laughs after the first day’s very full agenda of speakers and discussions, when we headed to the hotel bar to kick back and shoot the you-know-what. 😉
The second day of this 2-day conference is always a tour day. I didn’t know where we were going until the day before, so had low to no expectations as to what we were going to be treated to. The agenda said we would first tour a Federal Milk Marketing Order lab (always cool to see someone else’s facility), then after lunch we would visit the George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum, and then the Fort Worth Stockyards before having dinner in Fort Worth. (George W. Bush was not exactly my favourite American president and I had no idea what we would see at the stockyards so my expectations remained low.)
Imposing entrance. It’s presidential, after all!
I was very pleasantly surprised and impressed at the quality of exhibits at this museum, and I would encourage anyone visiting the Dallas area to take the time to visit. (I didn’t have time to check out the library portion so can’t comment on that.)
There was of course a large part of the museum dedicated to 9/11 artifacts, as this occurred during Dubya’s presidency. It was very moving to see this, especially as we visited on September 10 – one day before the 18th anniversary of this horrific day.
Twisted, heat-damaged steel beams from the World Trade Center in front of a wall with the names of every victim and some of the stories from that awful time.
There were many exhibits (including short videos) on the Bush presidency – all aspects of their lives and the initiatives undertaken by the Bushes – as well as a recreation of the Oval Office, as it existed during that time.
Clothes worn by the Bushes along with place settings used at state dinners. First Dog, Spot
Like I said earlier, I was not a fan of Dubya. Although after seeing the projects he and Mrs. Bush championed during his terms, and contrasting and comparing that to who is in charge now, I’ve decided he wasn’t really all that bad. In fact, he seems like a bit of a moral and mental giant to me now, considering…a-hem! 😉
An American I was with at the time said much the same to me as we walked through the halls of the museum. Said he’d like to shake Bush’s hand NOW as he didn’t realize at the time how much worse things could get. See, all you need to be remembered kindly is to have someone come later who’s a complete villain/moron.
Gosh, part of me very selfishly hopes the next lab manager makes people remember me fondly too! 😉
After seeing these artifacts, and an exhibit across the hall on presidential retreats (also hella interesting – so interesting I forgot to take pics, sorry!), it was “Back on the bus, people!” to get to the Fort Worth stockyards just in time for a CATTLE DRIVE!
Twice a day Texas longhorn cattle are driven down the street in a recreation of the time when these animals were herded from the natural pastures of Fort Worth along the Chisholm Trail to railheads in Kansas. “C’mon cows!”, the cowboys sang out as they passed. (Although even a city slicker like me could tell they were mostly steers, not cows.)
I flew home on September 11. Didn’t notice any heightened security or anything like that, and at the airports it was just another day. As it should be.
Then on September 12 – the day I had been eagerly anticipating for weeks – I went to Thrive Studios to meet with Angela McDonald to get a major piece inked onto my forearm. My first large black and grey tattoo!
My “Mucha Mermaid”, freshly inked. Took a little over 2 hours. I am beyond pleased with Angela’s artistry in realizing my vision for this piece. 48 hours later. Still healing. Sorry about the poor light. I have it heavily moisturized and there was a glare on my arm if I was in better light.
This piece has multiple meanings for me. One is that is symbolizes my future, surrounded by the ocean on Vancouver Island.
The other, larger meaning is that it is in honour of my mother (mostly) and representative of my family. My mother (the mermaid) loved the water, loved to swim, was a lifeguard, taught water aerobics and supervised a therapy pool at a retirement home before she retired. My dad (the damaged anchor) was also in love with the sea and worked for a bit for the Dutch Merchant Marine as a young man. He would have kept with it, but the papers came through for immigration to Canada soon after joining, so that ended that dream for him. The cracks in the anchor speak to the demons that plagued him (and that the family bore the brunt of), especially as he got older. The three little fish are me and my two sisters. When I mentioned to my daughter the tattoo she reminded me that this was initially her idea for a tattoo many years ago, minus the cracks in the anchor and the little sister fishies. I had forgotten about this and obviously had stolen (unknowingly) her idea. Sorry, kiddo!
Speaking of stealing others’ good ideas – just before I left for Dallas, I received an order from Vistaprint of “business” cards, for handing out to friends and such once I am retired. (Really, what do you call these damn things when you aren’t working anymore??? They need a better name than business cards!)
I know of several retired people who have gotten cards done for this purpose, and I was especially inspired by Janis of Retirementally Challenged, who designed a beautiful card with a quote on it! So once again I stole (knowingly, this time). Behold:
What you can’t see is that I ordered a pearlescent sheen on these cards. Oh, I be so FANCY. This quote sums up just about everything I’d love to be/have/do in my retirement. Well, plus family, and assorted adventures with plenty of “shenanigans” involved. Yeah, I want it all.
I’m back to “normal life” for the next couple of weeks until Joanne and I hit the road for a weekend adventure. Sixteen weeks left at my work. Time is flying now.
And how are you all making out as we head into Autumn? Do tell!
Today marks the 10th anniversary of me starting what has morphed into ye old blogge. Ten years ago today I sat down in front of my computer at my shabby little former abode and went onto a platform called Blogger to create The Next Year of My Life – a blog to capture all the thoughts and events leading up to me getting married again, 365 days hence. Thus today also marks the 9th anniversary of my wedding to the late JD.
Never could I ever have imagined all that has happened to me in the 10 years since September 3, 2009. Here’s a listing of the highlights and links to my posts about them. And here’s an additional link to include my big news of 2019.
During the course of my 10 year journey to get here, I was often silent for large chunks of time (sorry, dear Bloggie!) due to what was happening to me in real life. But I never abandoned my blog completely and I hope I never get into another situation where I feel I can’t blog because I can’t write about what is actually going on or really bothering me. Or because I became the unwilling Mayor of Crazytown and no longer had a moment to myself. I am confident it will never happen to me again (cough*no more men*cough). 😉
When I first started blogging, I had no readers. I did not know how to get readers. I didn’t know if I even wanted readers. I just needed the outlet to get my thoughts and pictures out there, to keep a “journal” of sorts – that I could access from anywhere, anytime. And blogging fit the bill for me.
And the blog grew and changed as I grew and changed. I went from Blogger to WordPress.com, changed the name a few times (and imported the old posts into the new blog – easy peasey) until finally settling on The Widow Badass Blog and purchasing my own domain (www.widowbadass.com) and all that goes with that. I knew I was on to something when the young man at Bluehost exclaimed “What a cool name!” as I explained over the phone the domain I wanted. Funnily (and luckily) enough, it was available!
I’ve had a lot of thoughts about ye olde blogge over the past 10 years. At various points in time I admired very successful bloggers who make a living from their blogs, and have important and uplifting messages that they share on their platforms. For a hot second, I imagined joining their ranks. But then I remembered who I am, and I know I would quickly burn out/get bored/move on. I don’t think I could ever settle on one “niche” or “brand” for my blog. I’m a dabbler, not a digger remember?
The Widow Badass Blog suits me just fine. (I can imagine being the WB for ever and ever, amen.) In it, I can talk about anything that happens to be on my mind at the moment. And need not worry if I am deviating from my message, ‘cos I don’t have a single topic or message. I am a proud member of a vanishing tribe, the one that got me into blogging in the first place: the Eclectic Bloggers.
After JD passed away and I reclaimed/rebuilt my life, the ability and desire to post more regularly came back and I also began reading more blogs. I rekindled long held passions, such as hiking. A Google search on hiking the Bruce Trail led me to Joanne’s (now dormant) blog about that very thing, and to her current blog. Which led to us commenting on each others’ blogs and eventually meeting in person. And now we have gone on several adventures together, even heading to Newfoundland for a week this spring, to hike and explore! I think it is accurate to say that most of the current readers/bloggers I like to visit are also readers of Joanne’s blog and have gotten to know me through her. Thanks pal! 🙂
Joanne is not the only blogger that has become a real life friend. Karen H. (currently inactive), Donna, and Karen G. (currently inactive) are also friends I have met in real life as well as on the blogosphere, all thanks to reading and commenting on each other’s blogs.
Which leads me to the most valuable thing (for me) that has come out of 10 years of blogging: finding like-minded (and often far-flung) souls. Finding your “tribe” and building/contributing to a community. I think it’s harder to find and make friends in today’s world. Everyone is so busy and any idle time is spent with a face buried in a cell phone, instead of interacting with the people around you. I’m guilty of this myself, as I am usually reading a book on my phone, if I am waiting for anybody or thing when out. (I’m trying to be better and more present in the world, but when the book draws you in and you can’t put it down, well…I am only human, after all!)
Despite technology interfering with people interacting face-to-face, I don’t know of a better medium than this self-same technology in which to leisurely get to know someone and have them get to know you by reading and commenting on a personal blog. Real friendships can come out of this. And if the stars align and the geographical difficulties can be overcome, you may be lucky enough to enjoy a bloggers’ meetup, and get to meet your new friends in real life. What could be better than that?
This is the single best thing about blogging, for me.
So here’s to you old Bloggie, ye olde friend (and friend-gatherer) of mine! Looking forward to whatever/whomever the next 10 years of blogging badassery will bring into my life. Cheers!!!
…I’d have taken better care of myself. “- Eubie Blake
This week I got some news that I’d been waiting for – my health traits analysis, from My Heritage. They were able to pull this information from the sample I had submitted last year, for my genetic makeup.
I was absolutely sure that I would be told I was at increased risk for cardiac disease, given my history with TIAs, and my family history (father dying at 63 from a massive heart attack, younger sister experiencing a heart attack, other relatives with coronary artery disease). However, I am only at average risk for this and other biggies that people don’t want to know about – like Alzheimers and Parkinsons. My Heritage warns you before they give you the data that this information is in there, and asks you to assent that you actually do want to see your genetic propensity for these devastating diseases. Of course, I clicked a resounding YES. Information is power, people. If I am at an elevated risk for Alzheimers, damn straight I want to know about it so I can plan accordingly!
Long story short – I am at average risk for heart disease, various cancers, Crohn’s disease, some stuff I never heard of, and the aforementioned Alzheimers and Parkinsons. Whew!
I am slightly increased risk for Celiac disease. Hmmm…perhaps this explains my heartburn when I eat wheat, currently under control thanks to modern medicine?
And last but certainly not least, my health report states I am at significantly decreased risk of developing age-related macular degeneration – this is a relief, especially for someone with plans to play a lot with paint in retirement!
So now that it looks like I might live a lot longer than I had anticipated, maybe it’s time to take better care of myself. I’ve noticed I’ve been in a gradual decline of energy this summer.
I’ve been severely anemic before, and this is starting to feel a lot like that. Brain fog, overall fatigue and lack of stamina, lack of focus, falling asleep whenever I am “quiet”. I couldn’t even whip up the energy to make it to Riverfest Elora last weekend so there went the $99 I spent last August on a weekend pass for this year’s festival…ah well, that water is so far under the bridge, it’s already made it to the ocean. 🙂
This is so not me.
I did save my energy so I could go see P!nk on Sunday night though – the ticket was a birthday gift from a good friend of mine!
P!nk performing Just Like Fire. Guess who forgot her good camera at home, and had to rely on ye olde iPhonne? See aforementioned brain fog…sigh.So What? She’s still a rock star, and she flew all around the arena in that harness. While singing. And doing all sorts of acrobatic maneuvers. BADASS.
OK, where was I? Ah yes. Feeling anemic. I mentioned in a comment to Donna, of Retirement Reflections, that I was needing an iron supplement to keep up with the schedule of things I have lined up. She thought I was joking. I was not, Donna! Behold:
This wonder elixir made me feel 20 years younger when I was anemic, years ago. One week after taking this liquid, I felt restored, and back to my old go-get ’em self again. Something months of swallowing iron tablets failed to do.
I purchased a bottle this week and will be taking it faithfully. My iron levels are on the low side of normal at the best of times, but I feel they may have slipped even further as I haven’t been eating a lot of red meat for many months now (and I’ve started really craving beef – another sign from my body that iron is needed). If this doesn’t pep me up, I’ll be making a visit to the doc for a thorough checkup.
Also on the self-care theme: I splashed out today on a Philips Sonicare toothbrush. My faithful Oral B toothbrush is showing signs of imminent battery failure, as it needs to be charged every other day now…and I am on my last brush head before needing to buy more. So it was definitely time to fish or cut bait as I’ve been dithering about what to do next for the past few months of watching my Oral B steadily go downhill.
This was a pretty expensive purchase. What to do? Get another Oral B, go back to a regular toothbrush, check out the Sonicare…Ultimately I decided on the latter. These were the thoughts that were going through my head:
I’ll be retired in a matter of months and won’t be able to afford it as easily then. (Already I am having these fearful thoughts about no more paycheques…shit!)
What’s the most environmentally friendly option? (Probably rubbing at your teeth with a twig…sigh. Moving on…)
I spent 6 grand on my smile these past 2 years (hello, Invisalign!); an electric toothbrush is protecting my investment.
I’ll have to pay for dental benefits once I retire and my coverage might not be as good as when I was employed; I’d better take the best care possible of my teeth. (More fearful thoughts! Double shit!!)
So, this is what’s going on with me at the moment – trying to get back some energy, and trying to keep my mouth healthy. And realizing that I am worrying already, about finances post-work life. Even though I have done the math over and over again. And my head knows I WILL BE FINE.
What about you, recent retirees or old hands at it? Did you have fearful thoughts about finances when contemplating your retirement? Do tell…
This post was supposed to be created last night (Monday) but unfortunately the author crashed hard after work because she can’t party-hardy for an entire weekend anymore like she used to. C’est dommage! Yes, it was that great of a Blues Festival and I am going to sorely miss attending it when I move to Vancouver Island.
This entire festival (after the fund-raising opener on Thursday night) is FREE. And there is even an app you can download to see the schedule and stages, and highlight the performers you want to see (which then automatically inputs into your Google calendar, with alerts on your phone an hour before the performance. HOW COOL IS THAT?!?)
Volunteer-run and sponsor-supported, it is truly a great one and next year it will be its 20th year of existence! That is quite an accomplishment. I did what I could to pour money into this event to support it and the artists, coming home with a bunch of purchases and then buying music when I got home. If I wasn’t moving, I’d be volunteering next year when I’m retired.
Of course, I made sure to attend the Thursday evening fund-raising show – Misty Blues Band and Tom Cochrane & Red Rider. My pal Kath gifted me with a ticket because she felt bad I was cheated out of Roxodus. So sweet!
Misty Blues Band – what a voice this woman has! So warm and lovely in person too.Tom Cochrane and band gave a great show. He is great at connecting with the audience with his stories of his long career playing across Canada. Life IS a highway, dude!
Friday afternoon selected performances started with watching the Grand River Blues Society Youth Camp performers put on a show. These kids really rocked!
I wonder how many will make a career of performing, eventually?
At the conclusion of their show, all the performers marched through the audience playing their instruments. I thought that was so cool. But apparently not everyone (cough*Jimmy*cough) shared that sentiment. More on that later…
Next up (for me) was catching Wild T and the Spirit’s set. The man could play a guitar! After Wild T, came Erja Lyytinen from Finland. Another great artist.
After these 2 artists came a tribute to the 50th anniversary of Woodstock, with various performers including Wild T doing – of course – Jimi Hendrix. I was too busy singing and rockin’ out to take pictures by this point.
My friend Kath (and my host for the weekend) and I rockin’ our Friday night at Bluesfest, with our Bluesfest T-shirts on.
Saturday’s picks started out at noon for me – with Bill Durst – thanks to a recommendation from Kath and George’s friend, Jimmy. How had I never heard of this man before??? I became an instant fan of his music. Plus, you gotta love any man who can rock a beard/pony/braid thing.
I stan Bill Durst, as the kids say.Susan (Mrs. Jimmy) and I with Bill. One of the great things about this festival is getting to meet the artists after their shows. Bill’s wife (also named Susan) was selling these bracelets she made from used guitar string ball-ends. Blessed by the music, she said. Shut up and take my money, I said. Later, I stayed at the Clock Tower Stage to watch The Northern Pikes put on a killer show including mashing together AC/DC and Aerosmith with their hit “She Ain’t Pretty”. What a really great band! Jimmy and Susan meandered off to watch some other artists.
I guess I should talk about Jimmy now. I don’t like saying negative things about people on ye olde blogge, especially if I like them. But since I told the same stuff to Jimmy’s face I will say them again here. And it’s kinda funny. At least, he made me smile. 🙂
Jimmy is a blues aficionado – he really knows his stuff (and disclaimer: I do like him!). Jimmy also has strong opinions on just about everything and is happy to share whether you want to hear them or not. When I told Jimmy (and everyone else) how wonderful I thought it was that the Blues Camp kids marched through the crowd playing their instruments, he scoffed at me and said “everyone does that”. I told him to quit raining on my parade.
Spoiler: He didn’t quit.
L-R: Jimmy, George and Susan at the Vanessa Collier show. George was my science teacher for grade nine and is Kathy’s husband. My career is all his fault. 😉 And this is Jimmy. Jimmy is a buzzkill. Don’t be a Jimmy.Big Dan and the Topsiders. I thought Big Dan was fantastic and had a great voice. Jimmy thought his playing was “pedestrian”. Ahhh, Jimmy…Darby Mills growled and rocked for almost 2 hours, and she’ll be 60 in a couple of months! Susan and I were thrilled and amazed. Jimmy said nothing to me about her, thank goodness. For his sake…Vanessa Collier is another artist I fell hard for. Woman writes, plays guitar, sings and blows a killer sax. And makes eye contact with everyone in the audience. EVERYONE.Vanessa walking through the crowd during a 10 minute sax solo. Jimmy to me: See, I told you they all do that. Me to him: Jimmy, does the term “buzzkill” mean anything to you?!?Of course I had to buy this T-shirt, referencing the lyrics to one of Vanessa’s songs – one inspired by her mother.
We saw one more act on that amazing, music-filled Saturday – Cedric Burnside, who played authentic, hypnotic “hill country” blues, according to Jimmy. He was great, but the music reminded me of how damn tired I was by this point, so I couldn’t stay for his whole set.
Sunday morning brought the last act I had any stamina left for – A Beautiful Noise – the annual gospel breakfast by various artists.
The amazing Michelle White at Sunday’s Gospel Breakfast. She doesn’t want to be lost when Jesus comes – no thank you, ma’am!
After the gospel breakfast it was time to pack up, thank my wonderful hosts, and head back home (and collapse on the couch, truth be told). I barely had the strength to go onto iTunes and purchase the music from the artists I saw…sigh!
Here’s something that bothers me – people were saying that artists aren’t paid by iTunes and you should buy the CDs at the show if you want to support them. But I don’t want to buy a bunch of physical copies of the music (especially since I am moving AND my only CD player JUST died) – I’d prefer to have all my music in my iTunes library at this point. Is this true, that artists don’t make anything from iTunes? And how can that be? Why would anyone agree to have their music on iTunes if they weren’t being paid, or paid properly for it?
I bet Jimmy has an opinion on this. Too bad he left before I could ask him. 😉
Even though my impending move is still many months away, I am already consumed with THOUGHTS and FEELINGS about it. So I created a special place to put them in – this 18 month Moleskin journal:
I found a package of stickers at Michaels that seemed appropriate. And went appropriately to town on the cover. The fact that the fountain pen ink is reddish and looks kinda like I am writing in blood may or may not hold appeal for me. Just sayin’.
So, as can be seen from this journal entry (made in early July), my plan is was to rent for a bit (up to a year) while I search for a new property to buy on the Island. I say “was”, because I had a bit of revelation this week.
I realized I was quietly stressing about the whole “renting for a bit” idea and decided to dig deeper on those feelings this week when I was at home recuperating from heat exhaustion – earned on my birthday, at WTFest.
(I still got to enjoy most of the festival but had to lie down in the shade during The Beaches’ set so I wouldn’t pass out, from overheating. 1 alcoholic drink and no food all afternoon/evening. What a rock n’ roller, eh? 😉 From badass to candyass in one afternoon – that’s me alright!)
I recovered enough to see these guys (Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker aka USS) put on a lengthy, satisfying set of all their great songs – they were the main attraction for me, at WTFest.
During a conversation with my daughter she brought up a concern that she may have to move around the island for work as she is at the start of her career, and didn’t want us to end up too far apart. I said: no worries, gonna rent at first anyways but that got me thinking. And with thinking came a bunch of fears and assumptions that needed deeper exploration.
I was raised by homeowners – people who believed 100% in the wisdom of investing in property vs. renting space. My goal as an adult was to rent the cheapest place possible until I had saved enough for a downpayment and could afford to take the plunge into home ownership myself. Why pay my landlord’s mortgage when I could be paying my own – was my rationale. Renting was a stop gap; something you did until you could do “better”.
I soon realized I was actually kinda scared of going back to renting again. It brought up all kinds of fears about: “wasting” money on rent; living in “suboptimal” conditions (when did I get so fucking bougie???); hating (already!) not being able to improve/decorate the living quarters I was paying for, to my satisfaction. And it brought back all my feelings about some of the yucky places I lived in over the years, with no money to fix them up. And how much I love the space I am living in currently, that I designed and decorated to my satisfaction (finally!!!)…A whole lot of feelings going on, yessirree.
Friends of mine recently went from homeowners to renters and spoke positively of freedom that comes from renting but I wasn’t convinced…I needed more information. Hard numbers, facts, figures!
As one does, I hit the interwebs looking for articles on renting in retirement. One especially spoke to (the MBA in) me – this enlightening article and embedded video, is worth a read/watch. Take your time. I’ll be here when you get back.
Long story short, I have a whole ‘nother attitude about renting. In fact, it is not out of the realm of possibility that I may never own a home again. Instead of tying up (and tying myself down with) funds in another property, I will invest what I clear from the sale of my current abode. What I earn from this could be applied to rent – against those pesky unrecoverable costs – leaving more of my capital intact, for a future home/hippy van/trip around the world/whatever else might strike my fancy purchase.
My friends were right. Renting can be freeing.
You know, I figured these anticipated life changes (retirement, moving) were going to spark some revelations for me. But I didn’t think it was going to happen quite this quickly. Or be quite so HUGE.
What about you? Thoughts on renting vs. owning, especially in retirement?
Updating the months of my life lived on my painting. Click on the 3rd phase of my life link, below, to see my post discussing this piece.
Knock, knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? Orange you glad I’m not going to talk about Roxodus anymore?
Well, actually I am going to talk about Roxodus for one hot second and then shut up about it (hopefully forever). The latest: the organizers have now filed for bankruptcy. No surprises here, folks!
For those of you who don’t follow me on Instagram (and why the hell not?! I’m FUN – above photo notwithstanding), here is me pouting at the site where Roxodus WOULD have SHOULD have been held, on the weekend it SHOULD have happened. Luckily, I’m not bitter. At all.
So here’s what I REALLY want to talk about: tomorrow is the 3rd anniversary of my second (and hopefully LAST) mini-stroke aka TIA. All has been good on the cerebrovascular front ever since July 26, 2016 and I sure as hell hope it stays that way.
And here’s WHAT ELSE I really want to talk about: I turn 60 YEARS OLD On Saturday! Yep, about to fully enter the 3rd phase of my life (and my wish is that I do get another 30 or so happy, healthy years in this phase).
Hehehe! But, seriously – when?
AND I am RETIRING FROM WORK at the end of this year. YES! I am so excited to enter this next phase of my life as a retired person and see where it takes me. I’ve been carefully taking mental notes of all the retired bloggers I follow (Y’all didn’t know you were role-modelling, did ya?) so if I screw it up, it’s all YOUR fault. Nah, just kidding…I don’t need any help to screw things up. 😉
AND I am MOVING TO VANCOUVER ISLAND in 2020! Expect many more posts on this topic as I plan and scheme and dream and realize this next big adventure of mine.
If you’ve been reading ye olde blogge for a while, you know that I was heart-broken when my daughter moved to Vancouver Island last August. Well, I got over it…sorta. But things have never been the same around Chez Badass since that time. And although I love my place (NOW, that I’ve spent the past 3-4 years renovating and decorating it), it has lost some of its appeal for me since my daughter became more than just a few minutes away from me. (Like a 6 hour flight away!)
And when I visited her last winter (here and here), that really sealed the deal for me. I can’t think of a better place for me to spend my free time (and by golly, that would be ALL OF MY TIME soon now, wouldn’t it?) and still be able to say I’m living in Canada.
To commemorate my actual anniversary of the day of my birth, I am spending Saturday at a rock music festival that IS actually going to happen – WTFest in Brantford, with my concert buddy, Dave. I can’t think of a better way to enter my 7th decade than rocking it out to some great live music. And to celebrate all the good things in my life, now and in the future.
I know you’re laughing right now. Don’t think I don’t know this. Also, no promises.
Whew, that was a lot of announcements for one blog post. I think I’ve worked up an appetite for a big ol’ salad. Luckily, I have one waiting right beside my laptop.
In an alternate universe, I would be rocking out right now, up at the Edenvale Airport, instead of sitting in my dining room hammering out this post. My ticket money has been completing refunded as of Wednesday (thank you, EventBrite!) so I am not out any $$$ because of Roxobust, unlike many others who spent thousands on airline tickets and hotels, yet…
What could have been and never will be…
Here is a list of concerts I took a pass on because of blowing the entertainment budget on Roxodus: The Killers, Muse, Florence & The Machine, The Black Keys, Arkells, Cheap Trick (who played last month in a wonderful venue close to me BUT WHY WOULD I GO SINCE I WOULD SEE THEM SOON AT ROXODUS…ARGH).
Looking at the bright side (or is it more the Sour Grapes Department? No matter): I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Kid Rock – probably would have left early that particular night. Also on the bright side: I hadn’t transferred any money electronically for food, drink and other festival purchases onto my “bracelet” for Roxodus’s cashless system, despite their urging concertgoers to do so right up to “the end”.
I am so impressed by those that stood up for the cheated fans. Particularly EventBrite, who stepped in to refund money to everyone who bought tickets. They did not have to do this. They were not obligated to do this. Yet they did the right thing for the music fans while Roxodus promoters did…uh, nothing. Nothing except make lame excuses and blame each other for the fiasco.
Huh…what happened to the “festival grounds too wet” excuse? Seems to have melted away as quickly as a morning frost in May...
Shout out also to other music festivals, who stepped up to offer free tickets to Roxodus ticket holders – you guys rock! So far Slamfest (in Kitchener last weekend) and WTFest (in Brantford later in July) have offered good numbers of free passes to those burned by Roxodus. I passed on Slamfest and already have a ticket to WTFest. I won’t be taking advantage of these offers…I have my money back so I prefer to let someone else have the chance to one of the free tickets.
I’ll still be up in the vicinity of Roxodus this weekend – CJ invited me to come up anyways, and hang out at her place at the Beach. So that’s where I’ll be heading after work tomorrow. And I’m delighted to do so.
Taking pleasure in others’ misfortunes; that’s me in this particular instance.
I’m also delighted to see the shit raining down on the Roxodus promoters as the days go on. Bring. It. On. Yes, I am that type of person – call me The Widow Schadenfreude Badass. Not only is the OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) conducting an investigation, and EventBrite promising to aggressively pursue Roxodus for $$$…now the local conservation authority is investigating these guys for clearing hectares of trees off of the Roxodus property without the proper permits and approvals.
It’s kinda entertaining, to watch and read about all the blame-gaming and finger-pointing and mounting legal issues resulting from the collapse of this event. Not 4-days-worth-of-music-festival-entertaining…but one must take amusement where one can find it, in this ridiculous affair.
Perhaps this will result in a business school case study one day. Or a documentary. In the meantime, I am still mightily bummed and finding it hard to…
Summer in Canada is a lot of things to a lot of people. One of the things summer means to me is the opportunity to attend music festivals. So late last December, when my friend CJ let me know that her family was buying VIP tickets to Roxodus (July 11-13, 2019) and that I was welcome to stay at her place nearby for the duration of the festival, I jumped on board too despite gagging a bit at the price – at $600+, by far the most money I have ever paid for a single event. For comparison, I plunked down $99 for another 3 day festival happening in August of this year: Riverfest Elora.
Initially the festival was running for 3 days but this spring they added a 4th day (Sunday) at no extra charge (with headliner, Aerosmith, one of my all-time favourite bands!!!!) so this got even better and I was beyond thrilled to be going. I had taken advantage of the early bird pricing; got onto the easier-to-swallow payment plan; it’s all good, right?
Wrong. With a week to go, the organizers pulled the plug on the festival, citing wet grounds as the absolutely bullshit reason. The first day of the announcement, there was a statement on the website that information on refunds would be available soon. The next day this statement disappeared. And I got pissed. And I (and 20,000+ other ticket holders, vendors etc.) had no direct means to contact the organizers, who were incommunicado. With no other outlet for my frustration, I took to social media with this meme, as this particular moment in this particular film represented my mood:
For those of you not familiar with the film, The Big Lebowski, it refers to this scene:
And if you’re not familiar with this cult-classic movie, I urge you to immediately get your hands on a copy and watch it. It’s a great movie that has launched a thousand t-shirts, memes, bumper stickers, social media groups, and even a religion, based on the character of The Dude (the victim of the toilet dunking) as well as other characters in the film.
There are developments happening every day with this Canadian “Fyre Festival”. And the story is still unfolding. I won’t go into the details here – if you are interested, just google Roxodus and you will see it all as it is happening.
On the urging of Mimi (another blogger friend to the rescue – goddess, how I love this community!), I had contacted my credit card company to report my purchase as fraudulent and to see if they could do anything for me. I was told they would start a file with my details, and to call back after 15 days (once the festival dates had passed and the slimeball jerkface promoters had been given every opportunity to make restitution).
Then this morning I received an email from the wonderful amazing good people at Eventbrite (who handled ticket sales), saying that they “set up an Eventbrite-funded Fan Relief Program to make all Roxodus ticket holders whole while we continue to aggressively pursue the return of funds from the festival’s creators.”
Current mood: Much less orange is the new black
And also in the email they let me know how much they were refunding. One teensky weensky problemo: in the email I noticed that they were refunding me the money only from my second-to-last payment on the payment plan. No mention of the rest of the money owing to me.
I emailed them back to let them know that there were still 3 other outstanding transactions that also require repayment before I would be “whole”. And now I wait, confident that Eventbrite will continue to step up, and make good on their promise.
I still hurt for those that invested much more than me into this event – people who booked flights, campsites, hotels, arranged their summer vacations around this event…I hurt for all the businesses small and large that also invested heavily into Roxodus happening.
The only people who aren’t hurting are the bands that were scheduled to play – apparently they were paid 100% upfront.
I used to take certain things for granted. One: that when I bought a ticket to an event, it was most likely going to happen. Two: that if it didn’t happen, I would get my money refunded immediately. I don’t think it is unreasonable or naive to think either of these two things when plunking down hard-earned $$$ for a show. I (and other concert-goers) deal in good faith and expect the same in return.
I will never think this way again. Thanks shitheads Roxodus.
My now-worthless Roxodus wristband
If you’re still reading, thanks for letting me rant. Has something like this ever happened to you? Do tell, in the comments.
Imposing entrance to The Rooms – a large complex consisting of 4 floors of all things Newfoundland: artifacts and art that speak of the land, the people, and their lives here. Definitely worth a visit. Plan at least 1/2 a day here. And plan to eat at the Cafe. Get the cod tongues!
I wanted to try cod tongues while in Newfoundland but Joanne wasn’t having any of that. We were at The Rooms in St. John’s (mere steps from our apartment), and sitting down to eat at the excellent cafe there when I spied them on the menu. I didn’t want to eat a whole order by myself as I had my heart set on the Fisherman’s Bake (which sounded filling) so I asked Joanne if she wanted to share. She said no.
Then I thought maybe if our server described them to us Joanne would change her mind. This is the exchange that followed:
Me to server: I’d like to know more about the cod tongues appetizer. What are cod tongues like?
Server: Well, they’re not tongues, exactly. They are glands.
Joanne: OK, this is not helping.
Me to server: You are really NOT helping.
Me to server while Joanne placed her order: And can you throw a cod tongue on top, you know, for decoration?
What I imagined our server was thinking: Spare me these CFAs*!
Needless to say, Joanne did not get a cod tongue on top of her chowder. Also: I didn’t get any either.
And guess what I found out today while putting together this post? Cod tongues are neither tongues nor glands. They are muscles – like steak. Or pork chops. And a delicacy that tastes like scallops!
Next trip to the Rock it’s gonna be cod tongues at every meal, Joanne. 😉
For more stories about our trip, please visit Joanne’s blog here, here and here or mine here and here.
Rock on,
The WB
*CFA or Come From Away – a term used to describe those not born in Newfoundland. Also: a hella fine musical production and true story about the hospitality and humanity shown by the town of Gander when many planes were grounded with passengers stranded there by the events of September 11, 2001.
