Day After Day #180: At the Hundredth Meridian

Day After Day is an ambitious attempt to write about a song every day in 2024 (starting on Jan. 4).

At the Hundredth Meridian (1992)

It's Canada Day, which for the uninitiated, is Canada's version of the 4th of July. I'm a proud Canadian, even though I haven't lived there in 43 years. Plenty of Canadian musicians have transcended the border and become big stars down here in the lower 48. Still others have been fairly huge up there but haven't been able to cross over. 

One of those bands is the Tragically Hip, a quintet from Kingston, Ontario that formed in 1984. Bassist Gord Sinclair and guitarist Rob Baker had been playing music together and teamed up with singer Gord Downie, drummer Johnny Fay and sax player Davis Manning. The group played covers of songs by the Rolling Stones, Them and the Monkees in local bars and built a following. In 1986, rhythm guitarist Paul Langlois replaced Manning and the band played across Ontario before they eventually caught the attention of an MCA executive. 

A self-titled EP was released in 1987, followed by their 1989 debut album Up to Here, which contained nods to the band's roots rock influences but also branched out with folk, country and hard rock sounds. Downie's lyrics elevated the group beyond your run-of-the-mill bar band, as did the Hip's live shows, which featured Downie's trance-like and sweaty improvisations during longer jams. The album featured a few songs that got some rock radio play in Boston, including "Blow at High Dough" and "New Orleans is Sinking." I bought Up to Here on vinyl and enjoyed it, but really became a fan when I was visiting Toronto in the summer of 1990 and saw a Hip concert recorded at The Misty Moon in Nova Scotia on MuchMusic, the Canadian version of MTV (I've since seen that show on YouTube and it's being included as part of an Up to Here reissue coming out later this year).

The band's second album, 1991's Road Apples, was recorded in New Orleans and saw Downie's lyrical references getting more literary and obscure, as he wrote about Canadian artist Tom Thomson and political tensions in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. The band was getting tighter and more potent live; I caught them at the Paradise in Boston on this tour on a weeknight and there were only about 30 people there, but man, what a show. The album went to #1 in Canada but didn't chart in the U.S. 

For their third album, the Hip traveled to London and worked with producer Chris Tsangarides, who was well known for his work with hard rock acts like Thin Lizzy, Judas Priest and Gary Moore. The album, Fully Completely, came out in October 1992 in Canada but wasn't released in the U.S. until January of the following year. I was visiting Toronto in the fall of '92 to catch some Blue Jays games and heard the first single "Courage (for Hugh MacLennan)," but wasn't able to buy it for a few months after I returned home. The album was again chock full of Canadiana, including references to author MacLennan, explorer Jacques Cartier and Bill Barilko, the Toronto Maple Leafs defenseman who scored the Stanley Cup-winning goal in 1951 and then died in a plane crash.

"At the Hundredth Meridian" was the album's third single, referring to the 100th meridian west, a line of longitude that separates much of Western Canada from the Central and Atlantic regions of the country.

"Me debunk an American myth?/And take my life in my hands?/Where the great plains begin/At the hundredth meridian/At the hundredth meridian/Where the great plains begin/Driving down a corduroy road/Weeds standing shoulder high/Ferris wheel is rusting/Off in the distance."

In addition to being a geographic divider in Canada, the 100th meridian could also be seen as the dividing line between the conservative-leaning west and the liberal east.

"Left alone to get gigantic/Hard, huge and haunted/A generation so much dumber than its parents/Came crashing through the window/A raven strains along the line of the road/Carrying a muddy, old skull/The wires whistle their approval/Off down the distance."

In concert, the band would stretch out the song and introduce newer songs in the middle. And similarly, the Hip's version of its 1987 B-side "All Canadian Surf Club" from the Live at the Roxy May 3, 1991 album (released two years ago) featured a few key elements that would end up in "At the Hundredth Meridian" a year later.

"I remember, I remember Buffalo/And I remember Hengelo/It would seem to me/I remember every single fucking thing I know/If I die of vanity, promise me, promise me/They bury me some place I don't want to be/You'll dig me up and transport me/Unceremoniously away from the swollen city breeze/Garbage bag trees, whispers of disease/And acts of enormity/And lower me slowly, and sadly, and properly/Get Ry Cooder to sing my eulogy."

Fully Completely was a huge hit in Canada, but not so much south of the border. I remember hearing "Courage" playing in a March Madness bumper going to commercial on CBS, but then not hearing the song much after that. As it turned out, MCA stopped doing U.S. promotion of the album after a whole two weeks. 

Instead of doing a normal tour for the album, the Hip put together a traveling summer festival in Canada called Another Roadside Attraction, which also featured Midnight Oil, Hothouse Flowers, Daniel Lanois and Crash Vegas. The festival didn't come down to the U.S., but I actually saw the Hip at the Middle East downstairs in the spring of '93 and then saw Midnight Oil, Hothouse Flowers and Ziggy Marley at Great Woods in Mansfield a few months later.

As the '90s rolled on, the Hip continued to do big business in Canada, playing arenas up there while playing clubs and small theaters here. They tended to do pretty well in college towns and near the border, attracting plenty of Canadian ex-pats like me and roadtripping current Canucks as well. In 1995, they were the musical guest on Saturday Night Live thanks to the lobbying of fellow Kingston resident Dan Aykroyd. They also were the first band on day 2 of Woodstock '99.  

The Hip's sound evolved as well, moving away from the bluesy rock of the early albums and earning comparisons to bands like R.E.M. and Midnight Oil.

The band continued releasing albums until 2016's Man Machine Poem, which had its release delayed after Downie was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer in December 2015. The Hip didn't release news of the diagnosis until the announcement of the album in May 2016; they also announced they would be doing one last tour across Canada. The final concert was broadcast and streamed live by the CBC and viewed by an estimated 11.7 million people. Downie, who had released four solo albums prior to the diagnosis, ended up releasing two prior to his death and two posthumously. He died in October 2017 at the age of 53.

The Tragically Hip ended as a recording and touring entity with Downie's death, but the surviving members have been releasing archival material and reissues since. 

Completely Conspicuous 479: Gone Too Soon

This week, it's part 1 of my discussion with Phil Stacey about how we deal with losing musicians we love. Listen to the episode below or download directly.


Show notes:
- Gord Downie died a few weeks ago
- Many high-profile music deaths in last few years
- Musicians are getting older, but also some tragic deaths
- Phil: Elvis Presley's death was memorable
- Lennon's death was shocking
- Phil: Cobain and Jerry Garcia's deaths hit hard
- Jay: The plane crash that killed Randy Rhoads stands out
- Lemmy, Bowie and Prince all died within a few months of each other
- Chris Cornell's death earlier this year came as a surprise
- Many big-name musicians died this year: Gregg Allman, Tom Petty, Chuck Berry, Grant Hart, Walter Becker
- You tend to dig into the back catalog
- Bowie's death kicked off a rough 2016 for music fans
- Losing Prince was a gut punch
- Jay: Saw the Tragically Hip many times over the years
- Downie released a posthumous double album
- Very captivating live performer
- Watched a lot of concert videos and documentaries on YouTube after he died
- Downie focused on indigenous people's rights in his last few years
- To be continued
 
Completely Conspicuous is available through the iTunes podcast directory. Subscribe and write a review!

The opening and closing theme of Completely Conspicuous is "Theme to Big F'in Pants" by Jay Breitling. Voiceover work is courtesy of James Gralian.

The Inevitability of Death

The inevitability of death. Gord Downie and the Tragically Hip sang about it back in the early '90s when the phrase became a song title on their 1994 album Day for Night. I first saw the band play it in 1993 at the Middle East in Cambridge and loved it immediately. Of course, at the time I was 25 and unaware of the impact that death can have on your life. Nearly a year later, Kurt Cobain put a shotgun in his mouth. That death hit an entire generation pretty hard, even though it seemed inevitable for a while. A few years later, my father died and that too, while seriously depressing, did not come as a shock because he was really ill for a while.

Now I'm 50 and death seems like a fairly common occurrence in the world. I mean, it was in '93, too, but it's more real to me now. So when Downie died this week after close to a two-year battle with brain cancer, it wasn't a shock, but it still hit me hard. Certainly, the death has been a major event in Canada, where Downie has become the pre-eminent rock chronicler of Canadiana.

The Hip never broke big in the U.S., where they've had success in bigger cities, especially ones with a lot of Canadians. I'm pretty much American through and through, having moved from Canada when I was 14. But when I heard the song "Blow at High Dough" on Boston's WBCN in 1989, I was hooked. I picked up the album, Up to Here, and enjoyed it thoroughly. A year later, I was visiting Toronto and watched a live Hip concert on MuchMusic (the Canuck MTV), and I was REALLY hooked. The studio stuff is great, but live was where the Hip and Downie were especially captivating. Sweating profusely right off the bat, he would seemingly go into a semi-trance, moving in herky-jerky motions, play-fighting with the mic stand and often going off on tangents. Early on, Downie would go off on epic mid-song rants about killer whale tanks or failed suicide pacts. Later, he would debut snippets of new songs within other ones. No two Hip shows were alike, thanks to Downie's elastic and magnetic personality.

I saw the band for the first time in 1991 at the Paradise in Boston and even though the club was nearly empty, the show was incredible. Downie looked a lot different than he did in recent years: longish hair, thick beard, flannel shirt, jeans and shitkickers. As the years passed, he began to resemble two singers he was often compared to: Michael Stipe and Peter Garrett of Midnight Oil (the shaved head was mainly responsible for that). I saw the Hip pretty much every time they came through Boston, and saw Downie solo on at least three occasions.

Going through the vast catalog he left behind (13 Hip studio albums, 5 solo albums), it really is amazing how much great material Downie left behind. And indeed, there's one more album, Introduce Yerself, that is due out next Friday. And I've got several excellent bootlegs of classic live performances over the years that I've been digging into as well.

Like David Bowie, Downie's response to his cancer diagnosis was to stare death in the face and keep working. But unlike Bowie, Downie not only toured, he used the platform and attention he received to spotlight Canada's need to reconcile with the indigenous people it displaced and abused over the years. That he was able to accomplish so much while struggling with the debilitating effects of glioblastoma (which included memory loss) is goddamn inspirational.

Now we remember his legacy. I've been watching some old videos and documentaries that are up on YouTube. A new documentary about the Hip's final tour is set to go up on Netflix next month, so that will no doubt be an emotional experience.

So yeah, death is inevitable. Make the most of life while you still can. Gord sure as hell did.

Grace, Too

As has been well documented here and elsewhere over the last several months, it's been a tough year for rock n' roll and mortality. Seems like every time we turn around, there's horrible news about beloved rock luminaries. If Bowie and Prince and Lemmy weren't enough to crush my goddamn spirit, the news in May of Gord Downie's terminal brain cancer really did a number on me. Not so much because I haven't experienced death before--that's certainly not the case--but because Downie and the Tragically Hip have meant a lot to me over the years. But his decision to do one last tour, which wrapped up last night in the Hip's hometown of Kingston, Ontario, was heartening for all of us, not the least of which the folks who are dealing with the trials and tribulations that come with a cancer diagnosis.

Earlier this week, I saw the great LA punk act X play at Brighton Music Hall with all four original members--quite the feat considering guitarist Billy Zoom had been diagnosed with bladder cancer last year. But the 68-year-old Zoom was declared cancer-free by the end of 2015, although he still has been undergoing chemotherapy and possibly surgery to prevent a recurrence. The band played a rollicking set to a sold-out room, and Zoom sounded as good as ever, despite remaining seated on a stool for most of the set. He still had his trademark grin going as he played, and even got up to play sax on a few songs. Given that nobody expected him to be back on the road again not so long ago, it was a triumphant night.

Last night, I watched the Hip's final show, which was livestreamed by the CBC and looked pretty damn great. Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was in attendance, and there were live viewings held at bars and restaurants and homes all across the country. The band played for nearly three hours, with 30 songs and three encores. Downie was in fine form--his vocals were a bit ragged at times and he occasionally stumbled over lyrics despite having teleprompters on stage, but it didn't matter. Given that the guy's had a craniotomy and chemotherapy in the last several months, not to mention has had to absorb the enormity of having a short amount of time left on this earth, it's fucking amazing he was able to function at all, let alone do what he does. There were 15 shows on this Canada-only tour and they were snapped up in seconds. If they had been able to venture down here, I would have been there. But I was happy to be one of the thousands watching from home.

It was a stirring and emotional performance. The Hip played old favorites from their early bluesier records, underrated deep tracks from 2000's Music @ Work, a few from their excellent new album Man Machine Poem and a few gut-wrenchers. "Fiddler's Green" from 1991's Road Apples was written for Downie's nephew, who died at the age of 5; the band didn't play it for a decade or so because it was too tough for him to take. Playing it last night was especially poignant.

And then there was "Grace, Too," which has always been a rallying cry for the band since its release on 1994's Day for Night. Last night, Downie appeared to really be struggling with his emotions during the final section, tearing up before dropping the mic and then quickly getting it together again. "Scared" from the same album was another stunner, especially with its closing line: "I've got to go, it's been a pleasure doing business with you."


Downie wasn't as talkative as he was in the past, but he peppered the breaks with the occasional shout-out to Trudeau, comments about the band's history in Kingston and thanks to the fans for their support over the years. He made no mention of his condition or the future, he just kept singing and jumping around in his classic sweaty, herky-jerky, Gordo style. The final song of the night was the acoustic "Ahead by a Century," the 1996 song that has been a staple of their live shows and the gateway for many younger fans into the band. "No dress rehearsal, this is our lives." As the band left the stage for the final time, the CBC cameras panned around to catch many weeping fans in the building; no doubt this was the case with the folks watching the stream around the world as well.

Much as Bowie left his fans with the final gift of the magnificent Blackstar album, Downie gave this gift to the Hip's fandom, dragging his cancer-ravaged body through one last tour, one final farewell. There's no telling how long he actually has, but we do know that there's no coming back from glioblastoma, the tumor Downie has in his temporal lobe. I've read reports that he has a solo album already recorded that could see the light of day. The Hip and Downie have made no statements about whether last night was their last official act as a band. If it was, then what a way to go. And if it's not--if somehow Downie is able to continue to work or is able to survive--who can complain about more from the Tragically Hip? (Well, someone probably would, but fuck them.) Downie and the Hip don't owe anybody anything. All I can say is thanks.

[UPDATE: Holy shit, somebody uploaded the whole goddamn show. Sweet!]
Tragically Hip - A National Celebration from bobcageon on Vimeo.
 

It's a Good Life If You Don't Weaken

Too often of late I've been blindsided by horrendously shitty news. Just a month ago, it was the sudden death of Prince and before him, it was Bowie and Lemmy. This morning, I saw a Facebook post from The Tragically Hip, which I presumed was to announce more information on their upcoming album and tour. Instead, it was just about the worst possible news imaginable: Frontman and Canadian icon Gord Downie has terminal brain cancer. Holy fuck.

The guy's only 52 and has been very active in the last few years. The last Hip album, Now for Plan A, came out in 2012, followed by Downie's excellent collaboration with the Sadies in 2014 and then a Hip tour playing the band's 1992 classic Fully Completely front to back. The new record, Man Machine Poem, is due out next month and as part of today's sad announcement, the Hip said they would do one last tour with Downie this summer. A press conference was held a few hours later at which Downie's physician said the singer's brain tumor has been reduced in size after radiation and chemotherapy, which means while he'll be able to tour, at some point the cancer will return. It could be a few years, but the diagnosis is still terminal.

It sounds as though the tour will be in Canada only (dates will be announced tomorrow), which is disappointing, but jeez, it's hard to complain given the circumstances. I've been lucky enough to have seen the Hip nearly every time they came through town since 1991, everywhere from the Orpheum and House of Blues to the tiny confines of the Paradise and Bill's Bar on Lansdowne. And I've seen Downie play solo at the Sinclair and TT's. His yelping vocals, herky-jerky dance moves and abstract lyrics are ingrained in my brain like signposts as I moved through my adult life. Downie and the Hip are so Canadian that they appeal to that part of me that will always remain a Canuck, even though at this point I've spent more than two-thirds of my life in the U.S.

This isn't a eulogy. The man's not dead yet. For now, we celebrate his accomplishments and gifts and enjoy his forthcoming album and tour. And like anyone we know who's been dealt such a unfortunate hand, we try not to think about that inevitable time when he's gone.

Here's my introduction to Gord and the Hip:

Inevitability of Death

Once you hit your mid-40s, certain things become inevitable. Even if you're in great shape physically, you notice that you can't do the same things you did in your 20s and 30s, whether that's partying til all hours of the night or living on junk food or just being immature. Which is fine, as long as you accept these changes. We all have to grow up eventually, it just takes some of us longer to do so than others.

Unfortunately, there are other inevitabilities that are harder to process. Like the inevitability of death. I got a taste of this 16 years ago when my father died, but he went early (he was 55). It was an anomaly. But now as I get older, folks I knew when I was first starting my career are falling into that zone. Lately, this has been hitting home for me as several people I either worked with or was acquainted with in my 20s have died, two of them in the last week. One was a state representative from Peabody who I knew well when I worked for the Peabody Times as a reporter; she worked in the court system and was on various city boards while I was there and was always extremely friendly and a great source. The other was the general manager of the Essex County Newspapers chain, of which Peabody was a part. I was never particularly close to him, but I respected the hell out of him and his accomplishments. He did a lot for young reporters, regularly allowing UNH interns to stay at his family's Rockport home each semester (I commuted from home during my internship, but I knew plenty of friends who took advantage of the offer. He was also a big runner back when I couldn't understand why anyone would want to be; he had a shower installed in his office in Beverly to use after his midday runs. And I would see him at local races regularly right up until a few years ago.

I've also had other friends or colleagues die at younger ages, including a co-worker (working remotely in Colorado) who had a heart attack at age 58 and dropped dead on the spot a few months ago. It doesn't matter the age, though, it's always shocking when somebody you know is no longer walking the Earth. There's nothing you can do except hope nobody else dies any time soon, even though there's no way of knowing these things. Better to remember these people the best we can and move along.

Now for Plan A

The live rock experience is something I go on about regularly, but it's important and something that makes life a little less soul-crushing. And when I find bands who can deliver the goods in concert, I tend to become a repeat customer. Which is why I've been such a big fan of The Tragically Hip over the years.

I saw them for the first time in 1991 at the Paradise along with 25 other lucky folks and it was an amazing experience. I already was sold on the band after picking up their first album a few years earlier, but seeing the Hip live takes them to another level. The X factor is frontman Gord Downie, whose rubbery stage movements and extemporaneous mid-song rants make every show a unique experience. His appearance has changed drastically over the last 21 years--back then, he had long hair, a beard and wore a flannel shirt, jeans and shitkickers and now he's bald, a little skinnier and tends to wear dress shirts--but he's still the same sweaty madman on stage. The Hip's latest tour brought them to the House of Blues in Boston last Friday.


Touring behind their 12th studio album, Now for Plan A, the Hip took a cue from fellow Canuck rock legends Rush and eschewed an opening act in favor of doing two long sets drawn from their long career. It's interesting to juxtapose Downie's convoluted, abstract lyrics with the often-drunk Canadian fratboy-types who tend to go to their concerts. I was up front (in the same spot I stood for the Afghan Whigs in September) and was surrounded by friendly but intoxicated hosers. One kid spent about 15 minutes in the middle of the show trying to convince a security guard to let him onstage; it didn't work.

The Hip played two hours, sprinkling seven songs from the new album among some concert staples ("New Orleans is Sinking," "Ahead by a Century," "Grace, Too") and deep cuts ("Scared," "Last of the Unplucked Gems," "Greasy Jungle"). Now for Plan A is a solid album, better than the last few (which were produced by Bob Rock) and the songs shone in the live setting. "At Transformation" is the best song the band has had in years, but the title track, "Streets Ahead," "We Want to Be It" and "Goodnight Attawapiskat" were all standouts.

Downie was his usual frenetic self, battling with his mic stand, lamenting the lack of NHL hockey  and noting that the band has always felt connected to Boston (his brother lives here). The band was tight as always, with guitarist Rob Baker ripping off fluid solos and Paul Langlois, the Hip's healthier version of Keith Richards, laying down solid riffage and providing backing vocals. The rhythm section of Gord Sinclair and Johnny Fay is never flashy and always dependable. But Downie is the real showman, and the band accepts and embraces that fact. And that's why the Hip remains a vital live act.

Wheat Kings

I've lived in the U.S. of A for the last 30+ years, but there will always be a soft spot in my heart for Canada, the land where I was born and raised for my first 14 years. I love where I live now and I have no plans on eventually moving back to the Great White North, but that doesn't mean I'll ever stop rooting for the Leafs and Jays or listening to Canadian rock bands.

And on this day, which is Canada Day (formerly known as Dominion Day), I always feel a kinship with my Canuck homies. It's the opening day of NHL free agency, so I end up spending a lot of time on Twitter following the latest deals. I'm sure there are fellow American hockey fans who are doing the same, but it doesn't compare to the national frenzy going on in Canadia right now. I get up there every few years or so, usually to Toronto. We're planning on going to Montreal in August for about five days, so that should be fun. It's a great city, but I haven't done a family trip there in many moons (drunken escapades are another story).

Ultimately, I've accepted the crazy twists and turns of my life, but I'll never be ashamed of where I came from. And now I'll crack open the ceremonial Labatt's Blue and celebrate this fine occasion.

The Completists

One could argue that life is a series of collections. You go through it collecting all the way: family, friends, jobs, stuff, self-esteem, heartache, etc. Of course, only some of the things you collect are worth a damn in the end.

I've been a collector of stuff since I was a little kid. That's a nice way of saying I have "pack rat tendencies." I'm not a hoarder or anything like that, but I do tend to accumulate stuff. This is followed at some point by a purge of stuff I don't need, usually before things get too cluttered.

I used to love reading the comics in the newspaper and would cut out the strips I liked and paste them into scrapbooks. Then I realized you could buy much nicer collections of strips like "Peanuts" in paperback, so that stopped. But I got into hockey and baseball cards at a young age. And later it was comic books, which I collected from age 11 to 21.

I was a hardcore comics nerd. Like pretty much everything I collected, I wasn't in it for some perceived value down the road. I was into them for the stories. Back in the late '70s, comics cost 25 cents an issue; now, the cover price runs around $3 or $4. I was primarily a Marvel guy: Amazing Spider-man, Avengers, Fantastic Four, Hulk, X-Men, Captain America, Thor, Iron Man. As the years went by, I discovered comics specialty shops and store subscriptions, where you could sign up to have the store set aside new issues of the titles you were into. I'd go in once a week to pick up the new comics. There was a feeling of excitement as I brought the books home, although after a while I had to kind of sneak them in so I wouldn't catch crap from my mother about blowing all my spare cash on comics. I invested in mylar bags and cardboard comics boxes to store them in. The collection grew and grew.

Once I got to college, I left them at home because there wasn't room in a small dorm room or apartment for them; plus, I didn't really want people knowing I read them. Comics really weren't cool, so I only had a few friends I ever discussed them with. Once a month, I'd go home to work a couple of night crews at the Market Basket and during the day, I'd go get my big pile of comics and then read as many of them as I could before I went back to school. By the time I graduated, however, I just didn't have the energy or will to read 20+ comics a month, so I just stopped. Cold turkey. And about 10 years later, I sold them all before we bought our house. (In retrospect, I wish I'd held onto some of my more prized comics, because they certainly weren't worth much by the time I sold them. The bottom fell out of the market once eBay came along and everybody sold all their crap.)

And besides, a new collecting obsession had overtaken me: Music. Really, I got into music not too long after I got into comics. The first new album I bought was Supertramp's Breakfast in America and I never looked back. It was a much more socially acceptable thing to collect. At first it was vinyl, until 1989, when I got my first CD player. Now most of my music is purchased in MP3, although I occasionally pick up a CD if it's on sale or something.

I would get into bands the same way I'd get into comic titles. I'd pick up everything by the band and keep buying new albums faithfully. It really wasn't until the last decade or so that I stopped buying everything by a particular artist because I finally admitted to myself that I have every Judas Priest album I need, so there's no need to take a chance on a new album. I don't feel that way about every artist, but certain ones definitely have their peak eras. The last Stones album I bought was 1989's Steel Wheels and even that is kinda iffy. The nice thing about digital music is if you can get an MP3 or two to sample a new release; if it doesn't do it for you, at least you're not out $10+. Being a completist can be fun, but it can also be tiring and expensive.

It's a lot easier to take a completist approach to TV viewing nowadays, especially now that most shows are available in their entirety on DVD or via Netflix streaming or On Demand. I love how you can blow through entire seasons of great shows like Mad Men or Breaking Bad fairly quickly and without commercial interruption. There are still many shows I've never seen, but I can still see them whenever I want. And I don't even need to plunk down $50 to buy them, because I can rent them.

I still buy comics every so often, but only in trade paperback format as a collection of a series. I haven't gotten back into the serial comics I used to follow because I can't keep up anymore; just no time. I know Marvel has a digital subscription that seems pretty reasonable, but I have enough reading material that I don't get to.

I probably consume more media now than I ever used to thanks to the Internet, but now it's podcasts and blogs in addition to music, TV, books and movies. I'm not really a completist anymore because once you grow up, it becomes much harder (for me, anyway) to obsess to such a degree. Now it's about getting to what I can when I can. And I'm okay with that.

The Dark Canuck

Just checking in as I look forward to at least two game 7s in the second round of the NHL playoffs...

As I mentioned last time, Saturday was shaping up to be a busy day and it certainly didn't disappoint. I was supposed to meet Phil at the paper at 9:15 a.m. to record a conversation for the podcast in what I figured would be a quiet newsroom, but it turned out that there was a cleaning crew in there vacuuming, so he came over here. We recorded for over an hour and then I caught the second half of Hannah's soccer game. I'll post part 1 tomorrow night after the Bruins game.

At 3:15, I went to Lynn for the benefit hockey game. We had close to 30 guys show up to play, with a few family and friends in the stands. We played three 30-minute periods, with a break halfway through to redo the ice. My team fell behind early 4-0, but we stormed back and ended up winning 18-15. It was a lot of fun. I showered and then took off immediately afterward to head into Boston for the Tragically Hip concert. I parked at the Lechmere lot and went across to take the Green Line into Kenmore Square, but right after I got there, they announced that there was something wrong with the train and we'd have to wait for buses to take us further. I stuck around for about 15 minutes and finally decided to eat the $7.50 I spent on parking and T fare and drive in to Kenmore. The Sox game was over, so I was hoping I'd find some parking near Landsdowne Street. I was regretting my decision as I sat in traffic in the square, but eventually I found that the lot right next to Boston Beerworks was charging $10 for nightclub parking and was half full. I still hadn't eaten and considered stopping to get a sausage, but it was close to 8 and I wanted to get in the club. It was a good move, because as soon as I got inside, the lights dimmed and the show started. The club is now called the House of Blues, but it's still sits on the same footprint as the old Avalon; the only difference is, now there's balcony seating going all the way around on the second and third levels, so it's basically just went up vertically. The show itself was excellent. The place was packed with rabid Hip fans, mostly Canadians, and pretty fervent ones at that. The new stuff off We Are the Same sounded terrific live, and the band mixed in some classic older songs and an acoustic mini-set. They played a little over two hours, with a 20-minute intermission. Lead singer/spastic sweaty maniac Gord Downie was his usual active self, targeting Toby Keith and the Pope with verbal jabs, owning the stage with his herky jerky movements, and incorporating his mikestand and hankies into the act. The band careened from alt-country on "Morning Moon" to the swamp blues groove of "New Orleans is Sinking" to the hard rock assault of my favorite hip song "50 Mission Cap," a tribute to Leafs Stanley Cup hero Bill Barilko, which Downie dedicated to the struggling Bruins (and it worked, because they totally dominated the Canes Sunday night). A truly awesome show and the last U.S. date for a while as they return to Toronto for some big shows at Massey Hall.

Yesterday, I took the girls up to see my mom in NH for Mother's Day, so that was good.

We had a bit of scare today when Hannah's teacher mistakenly told Hannah she was to take the bus home, when it was actually one of the days she stays in the afterschool program. So the bus arrived at our street and there was no one there to meet Hannah. Fortunately, one of our neighbors has a daughter on the same bus and noticed Hannah was home without anyone here, so she had Hannah go over to her house and hang out and called Deb to let her know. Luckily, she was around. Deb's mom was at work, as were Deb and I. I shudder to think what the poor kid would have had to do if our neighbor hadn't looked out for her. Suffice it to say, we let the teacher know that this can't happen again. I'm guessing she just mixed up the instructions in the "communication book" in Hannah's folder; there certainly was no note asking that Hannah be put on the bus today. Unbelievable.

The Drop-Off

The calm before the storm. Not so much a storm as a whirlwind of activity today. In an hour, I'm meeting my buddy Phil to record some podcastification after a couple of false starts due to scheduling. From there, I'm heading over to Hannah's soccer game. Then I have to do a little Mother's Day shopping. In the late afternoon, I'm heading over to Lynn to play in a benefit hockey game to raise money for a scholarship in the name of Mike McGilvery, the guy who had a stroke last October during one of our games and died a week later. After that, I'm heading straight into the city to see the Tragically Hip play. They've revamped their live show this time around; no opening act and an intermission, with a setlist that changes every night. They've dug out some older songs they haven't played in years, so it promises to be a blast for Hip fans.

When I get to Boston, I like to park at a cheap lot on the outskirts of the city and take the subway to Kenmore Square. So I was not psyched to hear about an accident yesterday on the Green Line that was caused when one of the train operators was texting instead of paying attention. A trolley hit a train and more than 40 people were sent to the hospital with minor injuries. Things should be back to normal today. At the risk of sounding curmudgeonly, is it really that necessary to text someone while you're driving (or operating a frickin' train)? How the hell did we ever survive without texting?

My latest running column was in the paper yesterday, this time talking about relay races. As for my running week, I was stuck on the treadmill Tuesday because of the rain but got out for a couple of nice runs the last two days. As much as I like training for marathons, it's also good to just be able to go out for a run with no goal attached.

This was my last week of hockey in Lynn until the fall. We skated for two hours Wednesday night and then today's game will be the grand finale. The guys I used to skate with in Concord have had to move their skate to Northborough, which is just too damn far. So I'm hoping to hook on with some guys skating in Reading courtesy of a guy who lives on our street. I'd love to keep it going right through the summer.

Boots or hearts:

• Naming a kid is a tough task. Deb and I had many deliberations over what to name Hannah and Lily, mainly having to due with Deb's negative associations with certain names because she had students who were bratty/annoying/evil. We didn't pick the names based on anything other than we liked them, so it was surprising when we came to find out later that they were both pretty popular. In fact, there's a couple at our church who have twin girls named Hannah and Lily. But apparently, other names are proving more popular these days, with Emma the most popular girls' name this year and Hannah dropping out of the top 10. For boys, Jacob has been the most popular name for a decade. Pop culture and politics can play a role in kid name popularity, as there an increasing number of kids named Miley and Barack, just as a lot of Britneys started showing up a few years ago. For the record, if we had a boy, he would have been named Zach, based on my middle name Zachariah. And there's a ton of Zachs out there these days, too.
• I'd like to say I was shocked by Manny Ramirez's 50-game suspension for violating baseball's drug policy, but really, come on, now. I'm so jaded by all the stuff that's come out the last few years that any name that comes out wouldn't surprise me. It hasn't turned me off the game entirely and I still root for the Jays, but nothing shocks me anymore. Meanwhile, the first-place Dodgers have lost their first two games sans Manny and A-Rod, another superstar who admitted he took steroids early in his career, came back off the DL last night and hit a homer on the first pitch he faced.
• A Pennsylvania high school handed out shot glasses as prom favors and naturally, people were upset. Hey, they're just trying to look out for the kids when they go to college. You don't want to be caught unprepared for binge drinking, folks.

The Exact Feeling

I'm not sure if it's real or not, but I feel like I've been a lot more tired since I did the marathon two weeks ago. Not during the day or anything, but by 10 p.m., I'm ready to hit the sack. Of course, I don't. It could also be that I have a little less energy because I've cut down on the food intake a bit.

We've had some real up and down weather the last few weeks, too. Today it was raw and rainy all day; I ended up running on the treadmill instead of going outside. The rest of the week doesn't look much better. It's nice being able to run without an event in mind. I'll probably get two more runs in on Thursday and Friday and that could be it for the week. Since I'm playing hockey Saturday and Sunday is Mother's Day, I don't think I'll have the time to work in a weekend run.

A sign of the times: We were at Toys R Us on Sunday to pick out a bike for Hannah's birthday present, and all the end displays were hawking "Hannah Montana" hand sanitizer. When the swine flu hits, make sure your tweens are prepared! I'm surprised I didn't see any accompanying surgical masks on sale.

Saturday's going to be busy. After I finish playing in the hockey benefit, I'm showering at the rink and heading straight into Boston to see The Tragically Hip at the new House of Blues (aka the venue formerly known as Avalon). Should be a good time. Speaking of Boston concert venues, I was surprised to hear today that Live Nation is selling three of them: the Orpheum, the Paradise Rock Club and the Boston Opera House. It's not clear who's buying them, but as a fan of the Paradise, I sure hope they don't tear it down and replace it with a Starbucks or something. That's still a great place to see a band.

Whip it good:

• The first U.S. resident to receive a face transplant spoke to the media today. It's an Ohio woman who had been shot in the face five years ago; the 22-hour transplant surgery gave her a new nose, lower eyelids and upper lips. Pretty amazing stuff.
• Dom Deluise is dead at age 75. He was a funny, funny man. I got into Mel Brooks movies like "Blazing Saddles" and "History of the World Part 1" around age 12-13 and Deluise had some great roles in them. He also brought the yuks to the "Cannonball Run" movies and plenty of others.
• The Boston Globe saga drags on. While the Times company has worked out deals with most of the Globe unions, negotiations with the Newspaper Guild (which represents editorial, advertising and business office workers) are not going so well. The paper has proposed a 23% pay cut, which doesn't bode well. [UPDATE: They reached a deal.] On the newsstand, the price has been increased from 75 cents to $1.00, which ends up being $1.50 for towns like mine outside of metro Boston. I think I'll keep reading it online for now. We've been buying the Sunday Globe every week. It's hard to envision the Times actually pulling the plug on such an institution, but it's losing a crapload of money right now. Sad state of affairs.
• It's May 6 and the Jays are still in first place. Wow.

Something On

Today was a strange one. Due to a transformer problem that fried the servers at my company, some of us were unable to connect to the Internet or our email all day. It was pretty random, but the problem was still unresolved when I left work. It's amazing how dependent we are on our computers, especially at work. All my contacts are in my Outlook folders. Other than a meeting I had to attend, I spent much of the day cleaning my office (which certainly needed it). Hopefully things will get back to normal tomorrow.

I had a busy weekend. On Saturday, after getting an 8-mile run in, I took Hannah to her final soccer session of the fall. It rained pretty hard, but the kids didn't seem to mind. I got drenched, though. After that, I ran some errands and then went to the Pumpkin Fair fundraiser at Hannah's school, where I volunteered to help out with one of the games. Caught a quick nap afterwards and then headed out to see the Tragically Hip play at the Orpheum. It was an excellent show, with lead singer Gord Downie particularly fired up. They had swung through town back in April to promote their latest album; this time around, they played a lot of older favorites. The place was pretty packed with Canucks and other Hip aficionados; an impressive showing given the fact that the Red Sox were playing Game 3 of the World Series. I was able to get home in time to catch the last two hours of the game, as well as watch the Leafs-Rangers game on TiVo. I was up until 1 a.m.

On Sunday, I took the girls up to my mom's condo complex, where they had a Halloween party for residents' grandkids. The girls had a blast. We got home around 5:30 and I watched the Patriots obliterate yet another opponent, pasting Washington 52-7. Then we watched the Red Sox sweep Colorado to win the World Series. I went to bed around 12:30, but Deb stayed up to bask in the glory and watch some of the on-field celebration. Sports fans have it pretty good around here right now.

At the Hundredth Meridian

Holy crap, it's actually warm out. I'm enjoying it while I can; who knows when some stupid cold front will move in. It got up to 70 yesterday and is supposed to stay that way for a few days.

I ventured into Boston Friday night to catch the Tragically Hip on their latest visit to town. They played Avalon and it was sold out, which made for a crazy night considering the Red Sox and Yankees were facing off in their first game of the year right across the street. The Hip have virtually no presence in the U.S. on the radio, but they have made their reputation from being a kickass live band and have a good following here. As usual, the crowd was full of Canadian expats like myself, dudes in hockey jerseys (mostly Leafs--I saw guys in Wendel Clark, Doug Gilmour and Bill Barilko shirts--but also some Sabres as well), and older fans who always see them. I started off standing on the floor near the front, about six or seven "rows" from the front, but it got to be a pain dealing with all the tall and/or drunk folks, not to mention the bozo who kept holding up the homemade sign he brought and blocking the view of everyone behind him. So about nine songs in, I moved over to stand on the steps leading up to the bar and had a much better view. I was still kind of stuck in place, but at least I could see. The band sounded great and played a good mix of material from their 20-year recording career. Highlights included "Boots or Hearts" and "New Orleans is Sinking" from their first album and "Springtime in Vienna." Singer Gord Downie was his usual spastic self, sweating up a storm and madlibbing away; the guy's a force of nature. The band has been playing a different cover each night on this tour and on this night broke out a cover of Bob Marley's "Is This Love?", which seems out of character but fits with some of the reggae sounds they explored on their latest album World Container. The band closed things out with a raucous version of "Blow at High Dough," the bluesy rocker that was my first exposure to the band on WBCN way back in 1989. I got out of the club in time to watch the final out of the Sox game on a TV outside the Cask and Flagon; the Sox came back from a 6-2 deficit to win 7-6.

Deb spent the week off from school redoing the girls' bedroom. She repainted the walls from the yellow and green that had been done before Hannah was born to pink and purple and a princess theme. We bought new beds at Ikea that I spent most of Thursday night assembling, so the room has a totally new look.

I'll check back in later. I'm looking forward to going out for a 10-mile run later this afternoon.