Running Back To Saskatoon

Updates, galore

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 11:36:42 -0500

Well it has been pointed out that I've been neglecting the old blog, and the truth of the matter is that I have. So with out further ado, I present the update of the blog.
Treasure Island has been keeping me tremendously busy. I mean really, really busy. That's all I can really report right now. That I'm really busy.
But other than work, and let's face it who wants to hear about work?
I was invited to a pre-40th surprise birthday and CD release party last night. The party was for an old friend, Sandra, the CD was her husband's band Wyatt. The birthday festivities were held at Amigo's. and was a really nice time, my buddy Jody showed up, after I inadvertently ran into him at O'Shea's bar the previous night and invited him (as he was Sandra's roommate, I thought no one would object).
On a side note Amigo's has changed their menu somewhat, and added a near perfect item, the Lila Mole Fajitas, my review, OH MY GOD!, plus they serve a really nice new local brew the Bete Noir from Paddockwood Brewery. Now back to the update.
We shifted to a Country bar in the North end for the CD release party. No I can't remember the last time I was in a bar that was cowboy themed... Yes I can-NEVER! The place was done up as a barn, the only thing missing was the cowshit. And then that was provided by the DJ, between the band's sets. Wyatt is a country rock quartet, pretty good for the genre, but the music between sets was atrocious. Speaking of atrocious, when did big hair come back? and more importantly - WHY?
That's all for now, the high seas need ink.

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Classic Illustrator

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 16:20:15 -0500

I just this moment got off the phone with an Editor at Marvel. They've offered me a 6 month run on the new classics illustrated comic. Of course I said yes, the chance to get a solid stretch on a single title is enticing enough, but to not have to draw naked guys punching each other is kind of appealing as well.
The book is a little known title by some Scottish writer named Robert Louis Stevenson, and the book is Treasure Island.
That's right I'm working on a book about PIRATES! Arrr!
So to celebrate I'm putting a short film by some animators in France up on the blog, enjoy!

Pyrats-avi

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It's my birthday

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Fri, 09 Feb 2007 10:33:44 -0500

Well, it is that day again, though I don't really feel much like celebrating. What is there to celebrate? I'm not really blue today, it's just that I've had a sense of impending doom - or maybe it is just a feeling of ennui.
The temperature here is 31 below, though with the wind they claim it feels like -43. The weather promises to break in about a week. The sky, however is a luscious blue and as large as you can imagine.The sunrise was absolutely stunning, and if I still had my digital camera I'd have taken and posted some photos, but I don't, I didn't, you'll have to take my word on it. I am lusting after a new digital camera, the Nikon D-80. It is a 10 mega pixel slr that can accommodate the lenses that I already own. By the time I'm ready to purchase it a new one will have replaced it, so is there really any point to its desire?
One of my favourite versions of one of mt favourite songs, listen to it, Willie can really sing.

01 Blue Skies

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Evidence

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Tue, 30 Jan 2007 11:33:31 -0500

The Scene of the Crime

Feathers_splashpage new

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The Victim, the perpetrator,

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Des recites his poem, see the previous post for the poem itself.

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The cast of this play includes Ken, Bob and Ginny.

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The recitation continues.

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Mary, Peggy, Wendy, Ian and Rick.

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Annie, Rupert, Sherri, Linda and Doug.

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Is he still reading that?

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Cheers! That must mean Des is finished reading. (No! I don't mean it like that...)

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Caryn, Deb, Roscoe and Gillian.

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HEY! Annie!

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Martin, Ken and Bob.

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"why are you pointing that camera at me?"

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Craig and I, probably talking comics, beer or scotch.

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Deb and Roscoe, contemplating Deb's life as a single woman...
Okay, just kidding. But you have to admit that the expressions on both their faces are priceless.

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Mike? Mike? MIKE? MIKE! HEY, Mike! Hello, Caryn to Mike, come in Mike. I'm out of beer!

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The coveted corner table, and part of the coveted crew.

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Craig and I, Craig had tryed to streetcar from Queen and Bathurst to the Feathers, I don't think that he'll make that mistake again, it'll be a cab next time.

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Wendy and Ian, not only the best landlord that you could ever have, but good friends as well. Not to forget Annie, nope, there she is.

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Louise and Danny (at least I think that that is Danny, all babies look pretty much like small versions of Winston Churchill to me).

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Ken and Des having an educational conversation, or just shooting the shit?

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Gillian and Mary

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Doug, Dougie, Douglass, Dougal.

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Back, by popular demand, Mr Des Gilling.

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Hecklers?

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Hecklers are no problem for a former high school teacher, he has "the look" down cold.

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Valentina and I listening to the recitaion

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As the recitation continues.

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A healthy appause for the poet and storyteller.
Suddenly we've gone from the living room to the kitchen.

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Presents? No one told me there would be presents.

Kitchen Swag!

Thanks Caryn!

Thanks Deb!

Alright the sentimental part is done, so let the party continue.

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Mike and newcomer Adele.
Hey, Craig, does Adele have a sister?

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Ken, contemplating...

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Ali and Danny.

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Ken, on the move, his target...

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These are last five are from Annie. Thanks Annie.

I just want to say thanks to everone who was at the party

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Departures and Arrivals

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Thu, 25 Jan 2007 10:41:21 -0500

A nights sleep and my first real coffee (actually espresso) in three days and I'm ready to tell you, my faithful readers, about the trip.

Before I talk about the trip, however I want to mention the party.

The Party.

Wow.

That was some party!

No! Really I mean it. It was fun. Somewhat surreal, and an honour to have been at its epicentre.

(once I figure out how to post photos here I'll show some of them)

Ian Innes and the staff at the Feathers prove once again that they run the best Pub in Toronto. I'm am so going to miss the pub, the comeraderie, the beer, the talk, the scotch, the staff. (Some one FedEx me a pint of 80, please). At one point I was three fisting drinks (a full pint in one hand, half of a pint in the other, and a glass of red wine on the bar). My amigo Craig and his wife were in awe of the whiskey and beer selection and the community, they'll be back, I think, someone offer them a seat, they are good people.

And then the party notched up at Debbies (typically devolving into a kitchen party), appparently there was food, and as Deb and Caryn provided it, it must have been good, but I didn't see it, or have any, or, really, even think about it, but it was there.

I want to sincerely thank everyone who was at the party, every one who was there to wish me well. It is overwhelming to think that so many people think well of you. I need to really thank Caryn and Mike, for helping Deb and I through a real rough patch (I'm trying desperately to hold back tears as I write this). And Deb. I am sorry we had to experience what we did in the last 2 months, but I'm glad we had each other and I know I will miss you as I already do (three days is longer than we've gone witout seeing each other since the "event").

The party seemed to break up late, but it was infact fairly early, but that's what happens when you start at 2 in the afternoon.

Other than a little strife, a little drunkitty behavior, it was a great time.

My brother, McGregor, and I got up and finished the packing the next day (with meals by Deb). We said our final fairwells and went to bed early.

Early Monday morning, We hit the road.

Traffic was good going out of Toronto, but only jammed up near Barrie, for some reason. We stopped for Coffee at a Tim Hortons, what horrible coffee. I have a theory that people who really like Tim Horton's were weaned on gas station coffee, they just don't know any better.

We gassed up and headed further in to the north.

You know someone in charge should put up a sign near Sault St Marie, that there is no gas stations open, between it and Wawa. Two hours from Wawa and I'm doing some rough calculations in my mind. An hour and a half from Wawa and I'm panicking. An hour from Wawa and my "fill me up now" light goes on. I pass a gas station and pull in. I try to signal Mac, but he doesn't respond, keeps going. The gas station is dead, like a setting of a Stephen King book. I'm driving on fumes, the sun has set, it's getting cold.

Mac has pulled over a couple of miles ahead. I stop and just ahead of up is a MOT salting station (or whatever they are called). I explain to Mac that I'll see if they can sell some can sell some gas.

I walk into the station and a gruff looking guy that I can only describe as an aging hippy asks what I want. I tell him that I'm the idiot in the story that tries to make the trip with out a full tank and I'm on fumes and I was wondering....

Apparently it happens all the time, and though he doesn't have any gas to sell from the Ministry, he always keeps a full tank of emergency fuel in his truck. I pay the man, fill the tank, go in to thank him again, and another traveller pulls in to see if there might be any gas to spare.

Wawa that night. I haven't heard that many snowmobiles in years.

We leave early and the roads are fine. A gas station that we stop at advertises Gourmet Coffee. I walk in and ask for an Americano. I get a black stare. I say, gourmet coffee? She says that they have instant Capachino. I can feel my eyesballs rolling up of theur own accord and I pour myself a poor excuse for roadside coffee (not bothering with the instant). We get into Kenora early and decide to push on to Winnepeg.

From Winnepeg the rest of the trip was uneventful. To tell the truth, with the exception of the gas foolishness, the entire trip was uneventful, but would you still be reading?

The roads were fine everyone arrived safe and sound (if a little stressed and very tired). When we got here Jamil came over and made soup, tabouli and hunnus for dinner.

Today I unpack.

Hoping you are all doing well.

More later, including Party photos.

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Arrived

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Wed, 24 Jan 2007 17:58:59 -0500

So, 3 days, 3000 km, 32 litres or windsheild washer fluid, and we are in Saskatoon. All safe and secure. Will write more soon.

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Poetry Time

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Sun, 21 Jan 2007 10:50:50 -0500

And now a poem, by Mr Des Gilling.

Whistling a Happy Tune

In Godforsaken Saskatoon

Pat and Kat – they no longer rhyme

That was a poem from another time

And Pat don’t think about marriage twice

Not like Pierre and Peter – they did it thrice!

You’re tall, handsome, and only 42!

No wonder I’m living vicariously through you!

My friend, you’re in your prime of life

No time for domesticity with an ungrateful wife

Forget love, my friend - lust is the trick

Don’t think with your big head, think with your dick!

Sow some wild oats, have a toss in the hay

Forget the past, the future’s the way!

In Saskatoon if truth be told

The women are desperate, horny, and cold

You’ll have your fill of more than a few

When you hit town, they’ll be all over you!

Take some advice from an old pro

Sincerity’s bullshit, it’s all about show!

Cruise around town full of style and flash

Get a new wardrobe, spend a little cash

Saskatoon broads will offer all you can take

In no time you’ll be the town’s ubiquitous rake!

And the good news my fine, Feather’s friend

We’re delighted to see you’re on the mend

Put on a smile, never more a frown

Be happy to be on your way out of town

In Saskatoon partying and sex’s not all there’s to do

There’s drinking and fighting and gambling too

But don’t call a restaurant and say “reservation”

They’ll think you’re a member of a “First Nation”

And in Saskatoon a fairy tale often told

Winter is bearable – it’s called a “dry cold”

Be careful it’s freezing out there, don’t wander too far

In Saskatoon, remember - always plug in your car.

Life is often funny, sometimes unfair

You thought together you were a likely pair

And who would have thought when it came to your spouse?

There was actually a fox in the hen house

But friendship can be a tenuous thing

Who could have know about the fling

Sometimes we’re foolish, too trusting, too naïve

Oh what a tangled web they’d weave

But when all is said and done

it’s not about who’s lost or won

It’s about integrity and honesty at all cost

You have everything to gain and nothing lost.

The winner in this debacle it’s true

Is not your former half, my friend – it is you

When you decided this issue worth sharing

We cheered you up; no more despairing

This bash is to see you on your way

Tomorrow’s your future – a brand new day!

Live, love laugh!!!

Des

Thanks for the poem Des, and the two recitations.

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Yesterday

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 09:14:05 -0500

Yesterday was an interesting day, if by interesting you refer to the Chinese curse.
The day was good to begin with I finished off my pages and delivered them to the courier, so far so good. I received an e-mail from an old girl friend whom I hadn't had contact with in about 15 years. She had moved back to Saskatoon with her husband and children. She had decided to try and track me down, apparently it was not that hard to do. So I gave her my future contact info and we agreed to get together. I can't tell how good the idea of knowing that someone other than family will be there in Saskatoon.
I did a little packing and sooner than I expected, my brother was at the door. He'd driven the distance in 3 days.
Katrina came over.
I was nice. I was civil. I did not say most of what i wanted to say to her. I did not let the bile out.
The three of us went out to a nice little pizza joint around the corner and had a civil dinner. When we came back, Mac phoned home, leaving Katrina and I together.
She asked if I would keep in contact with her. I said I didn't know if I would or could, and the flood gates opened. Now Iam a guy, and though I don't mind writing about the fact that I cry, I don't want anyone to see me in that situation. It is us at our most vulnerable. Men tend to pull away when we cry, because it is such a vulnerable thing. I went down stairs, and she followed. She tried to comfort me, and I asked her to leave. She hadn't provide any comfort when I really needed it, allowing her to do so now would only make her feel as if she had done good (or some such, I was angry and sad and my thoughts were not exactly coherent).
Apparently she left in tears, according to Mac.
I am not happy about this.
I am not proud that she was crying.
I'm not really bitter.
I just hope that she gets it. I hope she begins to understand the world of hurt that she has imposed upon me.
And while I don't want her to be in any pain. I've had enough. I don't want to feel that way anymore. I did not sign up for this.
Okay, maybe I am a little bitter.

Just a little bit.

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Six days and six pages left

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Tue, 16 Jan 2007 09:46:07 -0500

I received a call Friday afternoon, from one of my favourite editors, she asked me if I could work on a book being written by Stan Lee.
Now, to be honest I have not even tried calling Marvel or any other publisher for a couple of weeks as, well, I've been a little too emotional to work. You can't draw steadily when you are crying your eyes out and blubbering like a fool. And this week I was going to sped most of my time packing up and getting ready to go.
But this is written by Stan "the man" Lee. Stan "the 26th most influential man in the world" Lee.
How could I say no?
Well, I actually thought about it, until I was told that the pencils were by Ron Lim. And he had the first five pages ready to go. And that they would be on my desk at 10 Monday morning.
Ron has a style, and more importantly a rhythm to his pencils that I find remarkably easy to jam to. There is a cartoony aspect that doesn't rely on pseudo-japanamation (no, I know that that is not a real word, but to those in the know it will make sense). His pages are incredibly clean, his drawings are sure and complete, with a fair amount of wriggle room for me to have fun with.
BUT!
But the whole story need be done in two weeks.
Three to four days of which I would be on the road and in no condition to draw after 10 to 12 hours of driving.
So we did what any rational adult human beings do, we talked about it and came up with a compromise, I'd do the first half of the book, and another inker will finish the remaining pages.
If only marriage was that easy.

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thus we refute entropy.

nobody@vox.com(Pat Davidson) — Sat, 13 Jan 2007 12:07:08 -0500

It has been a little over a month now, since that which we refer to as "the Event" occurred, and a little over a week until I depart from Toronto and return to Saskatoon.
It has been almost ten years since I lived in Saskatoon. We lived for five years in Saskatchewan's north, in La Ronge and five years here in the big smoke, Toronto. And now I'm running back to Saskatoon, as the boys from the Guess Who used to sing (or was it BTO?).
In any event, I'm going back to the prairies, back to Mitchell country, back to the wind and the snow, back to the old stomping grounds, to try and get my head back together and figure out what the heck to do next.
What I am going to miss the most are the friends that I've made here, good people who like to chat, to sip a beer and share a story. Spider Robinson once quipped that "Shared pain is lessened; shared joy, increased — thus do we refute entropy." I've shared my joy, and recently my pain with some of the nicest people I can imagine, and sat for many hours on the red crushed velvet seats in the best of all pubs (some will debate me on this, but they will lose) The Feathers. And thus we refute entropy.
Today is a good day, tomorrow will be better.

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