The Stoned Poet

"Come to me now and rest your head for just five minutes, everything is good Such a cozy room, The windows are illuminated by the evening sunshine through them Fiery gems for you, only for you Our house is a very, very, very fine house with two cats in the yard Life used to be so hard Now everything is easy 'cause of you and our [house]" Those lyrics from the song Our House by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young are the exact representation of what the project called Mai/Son was. A place where I could hang my problems, have a drink or two (as it was a Bring Your Own Beer, there was no pressure to drink at the bar) and simply enjoy the music whenever and whatever music it was. On many week-ends about to end up with no place to go, I would walk up Saint-Joseph Ouest and arrive at the mythic establishment. Compared to say Van Horne, Mai/Son was really a place to embrace, it was a venue we, the youth, had the possibilities of making ours and limitless were the possibilities towa...

October the 4th, I hop in my car with Antoine. Beer, a will to escape the ever dooming future of my generation and a hope of finding a groove that'll set me free from all morality and elusive mind bending thoughts or anxieties.  On a warm hot gloomy yet breezy saturdy night, I had my car parked downtown over the hills and as I locked at my car, the question was, will it stay put, will it roll down? Oh whatever it'll be fine I guess. Antoine and I take our stuff and I leave a note saying I just moved in and thus do not have a vignette for my parking yet, hoping it'll disuade any officers or parking agent of leaving a ticket on my windshield. We go down and turn on mcgill and walk and turn again and walk while talking, drinking a beer and suddenly, Antoine asks the question,  ''So were is the show?'' I reply, '' It's in a YMCA, in a gym more specifically.'' ''Damn thats crazy, just like when we saw shows younger at school in the gym...