Like a Record, Baby

The best thing about Main Street is everything. And by everything, I mean all of it. From the old, gorgeous Goh Ballet building to Slickety Jim's Chat 'n Chew, from The Main for live music to the windows at Hillcrest Plumbing displaying creatively designed tubs and toilets. But at the top of the Main street heap, I've placed Neptoon Records.

This store has more vinyl than the bench seats in the Oldsmobile station wagon where I spent a good portion of my formative years.

(That's not actually it, but I just had to post this photo out of pure disbelief that someone made a car like that - yes, it's an AMC Pacer Limo!)

Back to Neptoon Records, when you're looking for one of Vancouver's widest selection of vinyl records, it's right there with tons of new (yes, NEW) records and tons of old ones as well. There's also CD's, posters, postcards, sheet music, gig posters and some DVD's. As I flipped through the bins, here's a random assortment of some of the records I found:

Remember Dead or Alive? One of their biggest hits, You Spin Me Round (Like a Record), was from this album - that song dominated dance floors and aerobics classes one summer long ago. And who could forget the video showing singer, Pete Burns, wearing an eye patch and kimono? Definite inspiration for my next Halloween costume.

Ok, here's another one - a record from Michael Damian. He played fictional rock star Danny Romalotti on The Young and The Restless. This record must have been life imitating art, but he was a much bigger star in the melodramatic world of Y&R than he was out here in Real Land. Although, with that head of hair I simply cannot fathom why his singing voice didn't
find an audience.

When I found the record in the next photo, it kind of stole my heart and broke it - all at the same time. It's called "Whistle While You Work", but this ain't no Disney tune. Check out what is printed above the title, in smaller letters…

…it reads "Music With a Lilt to Lighten Her House Work".
For shame! They made this record way-back-when to brainwash women into believing that not wearing shoes and being with child should be all that is needed to feel fulfilled. "That's right, ladies - just put on this record and get to the dusting and vacuuming before any desire for education or success gets in the way of your pre-determined destiny to be the best homemaker on the block."

There was one other thing which made me think I was hallucinating.
In a corner, piled high on a crate, I actually saw one of popular music's most awesome and short-lived formats… the 8-track tape!

For music, it was to cassettes what the beta was to VHS in the dog-eat-dog world of VCR's - it just didn't fly. Not for very long, at least.

While we're on the topic of abandoned music formats, does anyone besides me remember the cassingle?

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UMOJA offers Vancouver mojo

Except for Grease, I don't much like musicals. That said, Umoja is one of the only musicals I've ever seen that I do like. Actually though, I didn't just simply "like" Umoja, I kinda fell a little bit in love with it...

Umoja has returned to the lucky Van City
Was told it showed good 'ol dance and real fine ditties,
An offer of a seat came through with some luck
How stoked was I that Umoja totally didn't suck

Not sure why I'm throwing down the sick rhymes, maybe Umoja inspired me… it's a live show with a cast of 35 male and female, young South Africans. They sing and dance through a retrospective/contemporary performance of the history, and the now, of South African music.

I'm tellin' ya, from the moment the drums are first pounded right through to the end, it's got so much energy that I felt kind of lazy for just sitting there and watching while all these unbelievably talented performers stepped, twisted, twirled and turned through some exciting, fast-paced choreography.

How's the singing, you ask? Think of your favourite singer and multiply that by 35. We heard harmonies that one is rarely lucky enough to experience in a live show. Not even the great Wilson Philips could hold a candle to Umoja.

Umoja is an exuberant declaration of the unforgettable role music has played in the evolution of South Africa, in every aspect of its development - social, cultural, political, economic, all areas of life are informed by the beauty of their songs and dances.
I'm really not trying to sound like I lifted these words from some prefab promotional material, but Umoja really was that good.

The show opens with sounds of South Africa's early tribal music (pounding drums and topless performers of both genders) and moves on to gumboot stomp and gospel. Can I just say that the gospel sent shivers up and down the 'ol spine? It's really, really good. You also hear tunes from the apartheid era and current sounds from the urban centres.

The costumes are at least as colorful as the language used by parents who heard today that Britney Spears will soon appear on Sesame Street to sing a duet with Oscar the Grouch. They'll be singing "Toxic". One can't help but wonder which of the two performers will offer young viewers a higher level of toxicity.

Back to Umoja, do you still need convincing to go and check it out? Ok then, the sheer life force thrown into the dance performances is enough to raise the dead just in time for Hallowe'en.

Still not convinced? You'd have to be facing greater challenges than Helen Keller not to get anything out of Umoja.

Enough with the metaphoric scene-setting? Alright. Just trying to help you understand how truly good this show is... good for mind, body and soul.

I defy you to watch Umoja without a smile and a desire for much, much more.

Tickets Tonight has half-price tickets (yee-haw!) for Umoja. It's at the Vogue Theatre on Granville street until November 22. Choose from evening shows on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, or a matinee anytime. To get the half-price deal, you have to buy your tickets in person on the day of the performance you will attend.

Tickets Tonight is open 7 days a week from 10am - 6pm at 200 Burrard Street (that's at Burrard and West Cordova street, plaza level). You can visit the Tickets Tonight website to find out more.

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Neutron Bomb Blows Up Near Vancouver

I've had QUITE the suburban weekend. I haven't seen so many schoolyards and shopping malls since my age ended with the word 'teen'. It got me thinking about how often I used to skip class to check out the latest styles at le chateau (I know what you're thinking) or to get my hands on the latest 12-inch single by some UK band that relied heavily upon keyboards, crimping irons and songs running at 130 beats per minute (I still know what you're thinking).

My suburban sojourn began in Steveston, a half-hour south of Vancouver, at the Buck & Ear. If good friends hadn't recommended it for brunch, I never would have even known it existed. The fact that Steveston still follows its tradition as a fishing village must explain why a gentleman seated near us wore rubber boots and shorts in public. Not a look that's gonna lock in your spot on Project Runway, yet still practical for the modern fisherman.

Later in the day, it was time to hit Coquitlam, about 45 minutes east of Vancouver. Other than H&M finally opening a store near Vancouver, my other reason for going there was a concert at the Red Robinson Theatre in the Boulevard Casino. A performance by one of Oz's most-famous exports…Olivia Newton-John! That's right, the English/Aussie-Pop/Country singer who, in Grease, looked better in leather than whichever cow donated her the outfit.

Growing up, we would watch Grease and refer to Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta as Olivia Neutron-Bomb and John Revolting. Weren't we clever? To me, though, she was the bomb. I've always had a bit of a thing for Olivia and last night's show made me fall a little bit in love with her all over again. She's been on a 3-week Canadian tour and Vancouver was the final stop.

For starters, can I just say that some of the staff at the Red Robinson Theatre are very friendly, yet very ill-informed. Example #1: Upon asking two bartenders if cocktails can be enjoyed at one's seat in the theatre, the answer from two bartenders was "we don't know". Example #2: Upon asking the usher for directions to my seat, the answer was "I think you're over there so... try the centre aisle?". Turns out that yes, cocktails are allowed at your seat and that no, the centre aisle was not the correct route to find our seats.

Red Robinson himself appeared on stage. I thought he was going to pitch Budget Car Sales to us, but he was there to put an actual face on the theatre and introduce the show.

In Newton-John's words, she was there to take us on a musical journey. That meant traveling back to the 70's when she got her start with country music and then to the 80's with hits like the unforgettable Let's Get Physical. She performed a jazzy rendition of that song, which she described afterwards as "an age-appropriate version" for a woman of 59 years.

Speaking of her age, Olivia Newton-John looks really good - still blonde, still pretty and still really fit. Wearing a spaghetti-strap thingy, it was clear how thin she is. I'm thinking there must be potential for her to endorse a weight-loss product. Perhaps something called Olivia Newtra-Slim?

We also traveled to Xanadu and, of course, to Grease. "Summer Nights" was presented karaoke-style with the words to the song appearing on a large screen behind the stage. She asked the women to sing Sandy's part and the men to sing Danny's part. That got the crowd right into the show. Salt 'n pepper-haired heads were bobbing and age-spotted hands were clapping.

She also sang a song she wrote when going through breast cancer 15 years ago called Not Gonna Give In To It (you go, girl!) and, finally, a great-sounding new song from her new Christmas album coming out in a few weeks. Overall, it was good times & thumbs up.

On our way out of the theatre...

...we looked at some of the memorabilia on display, like this Elvis Presley picture-disc 45rpm record…

… we also saw this rather frightening mannequin in the likeness of Marilyn Monroe. Check out the mug someone painted on it. Hallowe'en might be 10 days away, but this got me scared, like, right now.

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Bump in the Vancouver Night

Why is at some point in our childhoods we become totally convinced that the space between our bed frame and the floor is populated by monsters?

Sharp-fanged, growling, blood-thirsty monsters. They were definitely under my bed, that's for sure. And all they wanted was my skinny, white ankles in their death grip to yank me under my own bed. And that would be last of me this earth would ever see.

When this happened, as I was convinced it would, I had hoped my family would retrieve me from the inky bowels of hell located just below the pillow where I was encouraged to have sweet dreams every night. In the spirit of how little Carol Anne was rescued in Poltergeist, I wondered... could a really short woman with a really high voice and a really wide rear end really be tough enough to go up against the beasts under my bed?

I drove myself crazy with the imaginings of such a terrifying event. Sure enough, sanity fled and so did I. I fled from my bedroom in an instant by catapulting myself from a horizontal position in bed to a different stance near the bedroom door. Hopefully, far enough away from the grabbing hands of monsters. A quick turn of the door knob and I was out of that room until the light of dawn.

That's pretty much the first scary story I recall knowing. Admittedly, it's one I told myself. Another spooky story I've heard is about a haunted house in Vancouver,
in the southeast corner of the intersection at Cambie street and King Edward Avenue. I can't help wondering if construction there on the Canada Line has scared away any ghosts by now. Perhaps they left soon after those who used to patronize Cambie street stores.

But there's another intriguing story out there, not too far from here. As Hallowe'en casts a long shadow over October, I'm thinking about a new book that just hit stores. It's a cautionary tale of hidden gold and an ancient curse at Pitt Lake, just northeast of Vancouver. It's the story of Slumach's Gold...

Slumach was hanged in 1890 after being convicted of shooting a man to death.
Just before the noose was placed around his neck, according to lore, Slumach placed a curse for all time on anyone who chooses to pursue his gold…
gold the size of a man's fist.

Gold? An ancient curse? All of this near Vancouver? You bet, according to the story of Slumach's Gold. Slumach's Gold was originally published in 1972 and has now been re-issued with new research, fresh insights and fascinating updates. You can check out more on this book at the website of Heritage House Publishing.

ALL THAT AND A BAG OF CHIPS

If you're like me, you like turkey. If you're like me, you like cranberries. And stuffing. And gravy. If you're like me, you would also like to give thanks for even a shred of self-control when seated before a Thanksgiving feast. However, if you really are like me, you can't give thanks for self-control because it abandoned you faster than Pamela Anderson says "I do".

For those of us in Vancouver without self-control, Thanksgiving doesn't have to end just because the calendar has advanced. There's still turkey to be had and it's in Gastown.

Vancouver's historic district is fast becoming quite the gastro-centric neighbourhood. About six months ago, that reality unfolded further with the opening of So.cial at Le Magasin.

Yup, the place is called So.cial. Nope, that's not a spelling error. It's just the unnecessary use of punctuation. That's all it is. Period. As for Le Magasin, that's French. And it's the name of the 97- year old building where you'll find So.cial. It's a gorgeous space. Pressed-tin ceilings, murano glass chandeliers, really-little-tile floors and tons of natural light from the enormous windows offering views of the captivating mix of Vancouverites on Water street.

Back to the turkey, I found it in the So.cial custom butcher shop and deli, just behind the restaurant. It's got to be the best spot for lunch I've been to in Gastown. This butcher shop is simple concept: Line up and look at the list of deli meats on the chalkboard (Capicolla, Martadella, Roast Beef, etc.), tell them what kind of bread you'd like it on, tell them what else you want besides the meat (roasted veggies, mustards, etc.), and then you can add salad (greek, green, etc.) or soup (du jour) to the whole deal.

Did I mention it's really cheap? I ordered a small-size smoked turkey sandwich for $4.50, but their idea of "small" is more than big enough for lunch. I added the soup for $3. It was also turkey and it was one of the best soups I've eaten in a restaurant (naturally, nothing beats Grandma's borscht).

You can eat your lunch in the butcher shop at a long table on a high stool, or you're welcome to take your food into So.cial's restaurant and eat there if you prefer. The kind and low-key staff bring cutlery and a glass of water the very moment you plop yourself down.

As an extra treat, the butcher sends you off with a brown paper bag filled with their made-in-house, sea salt and vinegar potato chips. They are a little bit of heaven, indeed. Now, while I may be powerless to the almighty turkey dinner, you should have seen Amber with whom I shared company and lunch. Her weakness was surely revealed to be the potato chips. Not only did she eat her own bag of chips, but mine too (I offered).

She belongs to a running club so I'm sure those chips are long gone. My couch potato club, however, will make me pay for every single potato chip I even think about.

Try So.cial - it's c.ool and the f.ood is g.ood. 332 Water street in Gastown.

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OPEN SESAME

Tourism Vancouver's Open House brings together hundreds of people every October. All who arrive come from the city's finest purveyors of products and services for the local tourism industry. Everyone is there to catch up, mingle and let's face it… to enjoy an array of culinary offerings wider than the range of poor choices made by Britney Spears.

Not only that, but the Open House has gotten bigger again. It's like a teenager in a growth spurt. Without the awkward, gangly result. This time, almost 900 people checked out the Open House for a good time with good people and a ton of good food.

The culinary team from the University Golf Club offered an absolutely delicious wild ginger arctic muskox in a wonton basket. Suddenly, isolation pay isn't the only reason to consider moving to Nunavut.

If you've been to O'Doul's on Robson street, you know it's a gorgeous jazz club in Vancouver's fabulous Listel Hotel. Chefs from O'Doul's offered Open House guests raw tuna with black sesame served in a white spoon, tasty North African sausage and a parfait-style dessert with pistachio and berries. Deee-lish.

Next, if you've been to Granville street on a weekend, you know that Sip Resto Lounge is hot little spot with pretty little people. The guys from Sip were rocking what looked to be the busiest space at the Open House. Call me crazy, but it could be that their popularity was increased by gifting party goers with martini accessories. I'm just sayin'.

And, if you've been down to Coal Harbour lately, you know the face of the waterfront has dramatically changed thanks to the expansion of the Vancouver Convention and Exhibition Centre. Here are two hard-workin', fun-lovin' gals from there who walked all the way across the street to check out the Open House.

Last but not not least, Vancouver city councilor Heather Deal paused to pose with Tourism Vancouver's award-winning visitor counselor Luke Ling. Deal had a busy evening planned with a couple more big events to attend before the day was done. Sorry the picture is a bit blurry, but it was taken post-Pumpkin Ale after all. 'Tis the season, n'est-ce pas? Try it for yourself at Steamworks in Gastown.

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GOURD TO GO

I've been getting out of town alot this month. September began in the Gulf Islands, mid-month was reached at Harrison Lake in the Fraser Valley and now, as summer officially ends and the month draws to a close, I've just spent the weekend in the Okanagan.

A family wedding brought me to Kelowna, four hours northeast of Vancouver. To get there, it's a tremendously scenic drive no matter which highway you take. We chose the Coquihalla. It carries a $10 toll for double-axle vehicles and fortunately payment can be made by debit or credit if you spent all your cash on Twizzlers and Coffee like we did.

Passing by the town of Hope, a large, roadside sign reminded me of that town's claim to fame: Chainsaw Capital. If a town called Hope can inspire a superlative environment where chainsaw culture can flourish, I shudder to think what a town called Despair might do.

Leaving Hope behind, we ascended the Coquihalla highway to its summit at 1244 metres. Every ear in the car was plugged.

Later, we passed through Merritt, home of the annual Merritt Mountain Music Festival. Think Woodstock with a twang. We stopped at the Visitor Information Centre overlooking the town. Nancy, our Visitor Information Counsellor, helped us find a decent local restaurant called Home (which has another location near Vancouver in Maple Ridge). The kitchen at Home doesn't rely heavily on tomatoes and that was fine with Nancy who is afflicted with irritable bowel syndrome. She casually revealed her condition to us as we chatted about where to eat. There really is something special about small towns. I've been trying unsuccessfully for years now to get any old Vancouverite to talk to me about their intestinal issues.

If you've been to Europe, then you know it's nothing but castles and churches everywhere you look. Well, in the Okanagan, wherever you look it's nothing but vineyards and orchards. So the next time you're at a Vancouver liquor store (the one at Broadway and Maple is open 'til 11pm!) or in the produce section of your grocery store, think about buying BC products. There's something about actually seeing where this stuff comes from that makes me want to support BC farmers and winemakers. Plus, the shorter the distance the grape travels from the vine to my liver, the less carbon emissions we will need to neutralize.

Speaking of greenhouse gases, do you know how truckers stay daisy fresh while on the road? This has long been one of life's great mysteries and a pit stop at the Husky service station in Osoyoos provided me with the answer.

One free shower with every fuel purchase of 200 litres or more. Or seven bucks. The things these people go through for us to have 5-10 servings a day.

All this talk of BC farmers leads me to show you pictures of Keremeos. It's a really tiny town in the southwest corner of the Okanagan, about 3 hours east of Vancouver in the pastoral Similkameen Valley.

We passed Keremeos on our way back to Vancouver and pulled over at one of the many orchard stands dotting the highway shoulder throughout this entire region. You can take your pick from a wide variety of fresh fruits, starring in alphabetical order: apples, apricots, cherries, nectarines, peaches, pears and plums. There are others, but I haven't yet learned the entire alphabet.

If fruits ain't your thang, how 'bout a gourd? After all, Hallowe'en is only a month away and you'll need something to carve, n'est-ce pas? Try Keremeos for your supplies. Here's a look at what you'll find:

Clearly someone has gone out of their gourd in hope of landing a guest spot on Martha.

Keremeos is worth the trip if you can make it. But... for a Vancouver supplier with a good selection at prices cheaper than buying an ad during a Canucks pre-season game, check out Young Bros. Produce in Kitsilano, a couple blocks down from the Hollywood Theatre.

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The Police in Vancouver - One Citizen's Arresting Encounter

While out with friends last night at Cin Cin for Dine Out Vancouver, I subtly cranked my neck around to scan the too-90's decor. Lo and behold, a few tables away sat Sting and The Police.

Sting and his reunited bandmates sat at a long table with a dozen or so friends and associates. He was lookin' pretty dapper in black pants and suit jacket, with a casual black T-shirt underneath. While imbibing some rouge vin, he seemed pretty relaxed all in all. No sign of Trudi Styler, but Sting was seated next to an attractive brunette who tended to smile alot.

Later, in the loo, I actually bumped into drummer Stewart Copeland. Despite trying to get my Welcome Wagon on, he was not a friendly camper. I surely wasn't overbearing or groupie-ish; instead I merely welcomed him and his peeps back to Vancouver, but Copeland was clearly only concerned with taking care of business. A point well-made by the stall door shutting behind him. So be it! My camera phone was sadly unable to work its measly 1.3mp to capture this.