Toronto の Totoro

So it's not a relevant pun at all. I just like that hiragana character a lot. It's kind of adorable and peaceful all at once.

I took Greyhound to and from Toronto, since Amtrak's railpass won't cover that travel. Actually as I canceled my sojourn to Minneapolis/St. Paul and the floods in the Midwest robbed me of the chance to take the Empire Builder (and I'd later miss a jaunt to Montreal) I think the pass turned out to be an unwise investment after all. Meh. When the bus arrived in Buffalo from New York and discharged it's passengers for a fuel change, I saw that the majority were Chinese. So I knew I was on the right bus. A bit late due to a girl in the bus in front of us having fallen asleep and forgotten to get off and now stuck at customs without a passport, but the magic of cellphones enabled me to meet up with Geoffrey nonetheless.

Remember that theme I hinted at development in Buffalo? Well it flowered into full effect in Toronto. Geoffrey and I tend to be of one mind when we hang out, although our personalities and styles (especially when directing) differ greatly. This time we fulfilled the necessary tour of Toronto in an efficient few hours - necessary so I could say I saw Toronto (another place I reputedly spent time in when I was small and cute - that last state apparently existed as per my older brother's testimony) and so he could say he was a good host. After that we returned and played Starcraft II, Halo: Reach, and Super Smash Bros. Brawl with the occasional break to make risotto, sample sushi pizza and marvel at a lactose free refrigerator.



Games composed the greater part but not the entirety of our pastimes. On my final night, Geoffrey helped me balance out my forthcoming EPs tracks on Garage Band. You see, after some... altercations with the friend who graciously mixed them originally in abysmal (Photoshop analogy: take bunch of images. Throw them in a psd in layers. Flatten without regard to where they are or why - hm, I would use a graphic analogy for music. I did in fact mention to this friend how I don't really understand soundscapes and so I needed her help) I finally procured one take per song of each track of my recordings. I'd previously thought I would make a digital release date of July 22 to coincide with a house gig I'd planned, so now I needed to remix everything double time. Without my own computer, Geoffrey's Garage Band capable PowerBook gleamed enticingly and so I finally excused myself from being a good guest to do necessary work. (I'll be posting information on my EP presently.)

On a brighter note, Geoffrey and I composed a song one afternoon with that same wonderful software. From the piano and guitar to the computer and loops to lyrics based on his dog Kungming... maybe I/we'll finish it someday. Probably not. For now it exists as a bonus track on the physical version of my EP.

Song of the Days: Panda Song (unfinished) - Geoffrey Liu and Terrence Ho

Niagara Falls and So Do We, Day 1

Alrighty then. Chicago's happy furniture and cooking frenzy softened out on a peaceful overnight train ride to Buffalo. Piotr nabbed me at the station and we proceeded to mostly sequester ourselves inside his home - a theme in its beginning stages. On the few notable occasions we weren't talking or playing Starcraft II or jamming and editing songs (more on that later) or eating his mother's delicious pierogies, we headed off for some longish excursion thanks to his taking time off work. I'd pretty much packed it in for busking for whatever reason, but we took our guitars to Niagara Falls anyways - in my mind so as to just play at a park nearby.

My parents told me I saw Niagara Falls the last time I went to Ontario. As my memory works exceedingly poorly in correlation to how far removed in time the event occurred, I don't remember a thing. In fact, I hardly remember anything before age five, and really not much before grade three. As if I've a set decade and a half of clear memories and before that nothing. Well suffice to say - Niagara Falls is freaking awesome. Not holy crap it's photoshopped huge (see the Grand Canyon) or Waaaaahhh (see Zion NP), but friendly in a you're totally gonna die if you fall in me sort of way. As one approaches from the American side it's immediately clear the river means business.





At any rate we didn't tarry all that long out there so as to wander over to the Canadian side. A characteristically lax border guard there waved us through and Piotr found some happily free parking about a mile away. Local knowledge! I figured since we'd brought our guitars in the car we might as well lug them down with us. (I was a bit more reticent since mine lived in my trademark absurdly heavy hardshell.) You'd never believe Canada has fewer citizens than Florida from the discrepancy in tourists (and in displayed wealth via tourist attractions) at this border. A perfect place to busk, maybe, but I'd not looked up the rules and I didn't really feel like ruining the immersive roar of the waves with some folk tunes. It's kind of like disrespect, no?

Piotr and I claimed a bench facing the falls. Some disagreements over twelve bar blues progressions and the subsequent failures at jamming with these disagreements further enforced my decision not to actively busk. My busking is an art form, a performance, prepared and practiced and delivered professionally. Practicing on the street is precisely not what I see busking as, so I pointedly opened my case with the top facing the sidewalk and the opening facing me (still open so I might grab tuner or capo or lyrics as I'd need).



Piotr soloed off the chords I laid down, until eventually I decided I didn't particularly care about the magical aura anymore and sang a few songs, giving him space between verses to solo for extended periods. I'm not much of a guitar soloist while Piotr inclines towards shredding. An interesting collaboration, certainly. Luckily he's far less snobbish and closed minded about music than I am so I didn't have to try and play punk/metalcore/screamo style and he adapted to my folkiness. Aren't I a pill? But really, I do believe folk tunes are the least offensive to the average passerby - would you be more likely to deplore a folk busker or a metal screamo busker at a National Park? Folk seems to fit. At least I'm rationalizing it to be so.



Reactions... mixed. As per usual before I started to sing (maybe five to ten songs) in the long bouts before where I just played chords with my head down and my hair partially obscuring my face, men took an inordinate interest in us. A lot of bending over and not at all surreptitious scrutiny of as much of my face as they could see behind the veil. To further illustrate how I wasn't busking I faced Piotr the whole time (who looked at the bench in front of him), or turned to the falls, mostly ignoring the passersby except for the occasional nod and smile. The usual young kids, some groups of university students, a request or two. I felt strange yet liberated to play without performing. Our session further underscored precisely what busking is by all we did not do. In fact I believe it was this short session that convinced me I was well and truly done with it, at least for some time.

Probably that and the following day's free concert from the John Butler Trio. John Butler's a busking legend from Fremantle, Western Australia (a busking town, so they say). His absolutely phenomenal skill spoke of tons and tons of practice. And that's what I haven't had much of any opportunity to do this trip - practice. It seems to me that one gets better at something by simply doing more of it. This holds true for climbing, and art, and certainly in my experience with the violin. But busking is about performance and as a performer you cannot practice at all out there on the street (save for those few instances suddenly alone in a tunnel). That's rude. So I'm a damn decent performer now who's cemented bad technical habits in his voice and guitar style. Now I need that time I devoted to travel and blogging and seeing and planning and cooking for practice, and I need to spend some time not performing at all.



As for tips we got some coins from kids particularly keen on us (who came all the way up to the bench and practically right up to us to drop them around the black top screening them away). Pretty courageous, really. Most amusingly, we got a $2.50 casino token. We didn't use it.

Earnings: 1.02 CAD, 2.50 casino token, 1.5 hours
Song of the Day: Where is My Mind - The Pixies

Chicago, and All That... Furniture

Pop quiz. Given reagents less motivated Terrence looking for teaching jobs and the upcoming start of the school year, titrated with indecision catalyst and processed through tired-as-hell filter, what pH (propensity to fulfill hoped-for-blog-output) can be expected? So let's do a rather whirlwind-esque rundown through the general lack of busking from the last month.

My train into Chicago arrived about three hours late, which by Amtrak standards for a long haul is actually somewhat early. Others were a bit bothered and worried by it. What with my extremely strict work schedule, however, I didn't care a whit. Brent found me inside and I happily complained at him until we reached his new flat in Hyde Park. I happened to alight at the start of the fourth of July weekend, which he happily whiled away buying kitchen supplies, playing Tesla Wars (both of us on one iPad makes it rather a lot easier), watching movies and generally not seeing much of the outside world. That suited me.

Tuesday happened, taking Brent back to work and me to my purpose of visiting him - to move him in. I'd spend the rest of the week researching and calling and visiting dozens of furniture stores, cookware shops, designing and printing coasters and placemats, and trying to get him internet. I'd say I succeeded in all of them but the last, which really was nothing I had any power over. In fact, in AT&T's great wisdom Brent had to pay to not have internet.

Another weekend swept Brent and me to a happy hour with Technori Unwind through a happy coincidence in a Starbucks. Back in Mountain View I stayed a night with my friend Michael Ma, and his roommate's girlfriend Val happened to be visiting at the same time. Three weeks later in Chicago she decided to wander into the same Starbucks I used for internet (see above), recognized me, and nicely invited us to this happy hour. This I loved as another objective of my visit, significantly more difficult, was to make Brent less lonely. Ultimately I needed to be dragged to the happy hour rather than my usual dragging of him. Suffice to say I drank half a beer and didn't need anything else. The next morning Brent displayed his characteristically frustration refusal to do anything he knew I'd do and made me buy and negotiate his bike for him.

Of course the highlight of this time with Brent centered around the things we love - food, games, and Battlestar Galactica. So I'll conclude this hilariously belated post with a list of the things we (I) made:

English muffin with over-easy Egg, Bacon, Cheddar Cheese.
Spaghetti with Spam, Green Onions, Soy Sauce, Egg
Mushroom Leek Risotto with Corn
Oven baked Salmon with Capers, Almond/Butter Rice Pilaf, stir-fried Cabbage
Kielbasa with Kale and Sauerkraut over Egg Noodles
Linguine Carbonara
Skirt Steak with Chimichurri marinade/sauce, stir-fried Chayotes, and Brazilian Rice
Stir fried Chicken with Bok Choy and Rice

Earnings: $20.00
Song of the Days: If We Had Two - Terrence Ho