The League of Rock

  If you’re reading this, you probably know me; and if you know me, then you’ve probably heard me mention “The League of Rock”, and probably more than once!

  One Sunday morning in 2008, I awake to the sound of the police at my door.  Turns out there was an gold SUV complete with bullet holes, parked a couple houses down with 3 dead bodies in it.  With all the police activity on the street my wife Carla and I decided to get out to the movies, just to escape.  On the way back, we wondered if the police had finished their investigation and reopened the street; so we turn on 680 news and there we hear Rudy Blair talk about this thing call the ‘League of Rock’.  Sounded pretty cool!  We got home, Carla looked it up online and joined.  She liked it so much she went back…. 5 more times!  Tonight, at the Silver Dollar on Spadina it will be her 6^th showcase as the League 15^th session comes to a close.  Yes, people it’s that good.

  The League of Rock was founded in 2006 by Terry Moshenberg as a chance to let adults get together and jam and so much more. Along with business partner Topher Stott, they’ve created an amazing outlet for that inner musician that many adults have.  The League is for the everyday “9 to 5” type of adult that just wants to get together with like minded adults for musical growth and a ton of fun along the way.  It’s for musicians of all levels; those who are just starting out and want to apply what they’ve learned at a beginner level; to those that are more proficient.  But, leave your ‘diva’ attitude at the door; this League isn’t about who’s the better musician; it’s more about ‘let’s see what we can create collectively as a band within 10 weeks’, and trust me , you’ll have a ton of fun along the way!

 

  It’s a 10 week process that starts off with a “JAB” (Join A Band) session.  From there, you and your new band mates come up with the band name, and collectively come up with 3 songs for you to work on over the following weeks.  The weekly sessions are coached by professionals; people that know their music and come in for some constructive help as you and your band hone your skills and songs.  Past coaches included Dan Clancy of Lighthouse fame, Blair Packham from the Jitters, Terry Brown producer extraordinaire of Rush and Max Webster, Jeff Jones from Red Rider, Steve ‘Lips” Kudlow from Anvil, Zack Werner from Canadian Idol,  David Barrett, Michael White and so many more.  These guys know their stuff, and if you give them a chance they’ll help you and you band in ways you never even thought of.

  Halfway through the session, you do a couple of ‘live’ workshops.  It’s a chance to get out of the regular rehearsal space and play your songs in front of the other bands.  This is also a great learning experience; the bands are always learning from each other as they watch each other perform.

  By week 9 you’re ready to take one of your songs into a world class recording studio to record!  Each band receives a professionally recorded cd with each band’s song on it.  This ain’t no K-Tel product, you’re gonna be proud of this!

  Week 10 tops the whole session off with a ‘live’ showcase!  It’s time to show your friends and family what you’ve been creating with your band over the last 10 weeks.  I look at it as a celebration.  It’s celebrating what’s been created.  Yes, it’s music, but it’s also so much more.  You’ve learned new skills from listening to your professional coaches and even new friendships have developed. Keep in mind, 10 weeks ago, these people didn’t really know each other; now they’re a band!  They’re a team. They’ve had to rely on each other to do their part for the collective positive outcome; it’s teamwork.  They’ve learned more musically, but they’ve also learned more about themselves.

   I’ve met a lot of really cool, genuine people though the League of Rock, and I’m not even a musician!  They’re friendly and welcoming.  It’s all about adults having fun together through music. 

   I’m a music junkie, to me there is seriously no inappropriate time for music of some type.  Soft and mellow to set a mood, or cranked to 11 to melt the bad day you just had away.  I had my own dj business for 10 years, and maybe that was just an excuse to play more and more music.  Ya just gotta have music!

  The League of Rock has actually changed the way I hear music; and I mean that in the best possible way.  That comes from seeing and hearing the songs being recorded in studio as well and listening to the coaches and their constructive criticisms.

  Just about every song I hear on the radio, I think of how it would sound as a League of Rock presentation.   I think ‘man, I’d love to hear Kenny McNally sing that one out of the park’ or ‘‘ Shiva Van Halen’ could play that no problem’.  Music is dissected in my head more than ever.  It’s pulled apart and analyzed.  I think of how someone, or possible myself would perform that song in a League of Rock setting. 

   Just when I thought I couldn’t appreciate music anymore, the League of Rock has actually made me appreciate not just the music more, but the actual musicianship. The bands and the collective creative process.

  Well done Terry and Topher, you’ve got a real cool business going on here that brings a lot of happiness to music minded adults regularly.

   I invite you to come one out and see what it’s all about.  My wife and I have met some very cool people though the League of Rock.  People we now call friends.

  For more info, just ask me, or contact Terry & Topher through http://www.leagueofrock.com/

  Some day, the musical stylings of ‘Diamond Dave’ Wood will have to venture onto the League of Rock stage…  For now, I’ll stick with my karaoke, and maybe being the League of Rock’s unofficial photographer, but it’s coming…  

Why Wear A Poppy?

Geez! Has it been that long since I’m written here?! Wowsers. Time kinda gets away from me now and then. The summer was packed with friends, family and fun; and had little time for writing. Let’s get back to it!

Now that I’ve got a few minutes, time for a little reflection…

This week, I was at a book release event for Al McOrmond’s book “Portraits of Valour” (www.wdpublishing.com) which has collection of WWII portraits painted by the late Murray Saint. Accompanying each portrait is a story of the individual. This book was of particular interest to me because in it’s pages are my mother in-law Elsie McGhee and her late husband George (who had the nickname ‘Scorch’ in the war), along with George’s brother Albert (nicknamed ‘Muff’ in the war). It was pretty cool being there with Elsie; having her stand along side her portrait. So there are a few personal reasons to pause and reflect from my wife’s side.

On my side, there was my father’s father Doug Wood; and my Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Frank, Uncle Leonard and Uncle Norm. I’ve been told that my Grandmother Mary had the distinction of being one of the few, possibly the only, mother with 5 family members in the service at the same time in Canada. The story goes that there was a special Maple Leaf given to the homes of those that served and Grandma was the only one that had 5 displayed in her window. It just makes me think.

On Q107 a couple of days ago I heard John Derringer reciting this poem on the air and knew I wanted to share it here.

It’s called “Why Wear a Poppy” by Donald J Crawford.


WHY WEAR A POPPY
By Don Crawford

“Please wear a poppy,” the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
“Lady”, said he, “may I have one?”
When she’d pinned it on he turned to say,
“Why do we wear a poppy today?”

The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, “This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free –
That’s why we wear a poppy, you see.

“I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
And became a man – as you will, too.

“He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said, ‘Goodbye,
I’ll be back soon, Mom, so please don’t cry.’

“But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

“Till at last, at last, the war was won –
And that’s why we wear a poppy, son.”
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, “Thanks, lady, I’m glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
but your son – did he come back all right?”

A tear rolled down each faded cheek:
She shook her head, but didn’t speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you’d have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, is oft-delayed,
Though our freedom was bought – and thousands paid!

And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country’s call
That we, in peace, may see the sun.

Please wear a poppy, it says: “Well done.”


Everyone has their personal story of what Remembrance Day means to them and who they think of and why. I just hope you do, in whatever way suits you.

"Gee your mom's hot, too bad she's such a bitch!"

As I’ve been looking for work, I’ve had the opportunity to spend a few hours a day helping out a friend who is recovering from a pretty bad car accident. Lately, with the summer weather, I’ve been working outside most days; cutting the grass, some outside repairs, those types of things. In the back corner of the yard is an awesome raspberry patch, where I’ve been harvesting those tasty berries for part of my visit there over the last couple weeks.

One day a couple weeks ago, as I’m working in the patch. I hear the neighbour’s kids just on the other side of the fence, laughing and playing around. Nothing quite like the sound of kids laughing to me. Kinda gives ya the ‘warm fuzzies’. That heart warming feeling that something ‘good’ is going on around you. The kids don’t know I’m there, they can’t see me through the fence. I keep picking away at the raspberry plantation, when suddenly I hear the mother open the back door and say “I didn’t buy that f%*#ing sprinkler for you kids to f%*#ing stand around looking at it! Get in that f%*#ing sprinkler or I’ll take it back to the f%*#ing store!” With that, she closed the door. No more laughing. The kids played in the sprinkler because of the threat, not because it would be fun.

Who talks to their children like that?!

Ok, for the record, I am not a parent, yet; (we’re going through the adoption process) although I do have experience in parenting. I was lucky enough to spend 6 years or so helping a single mom raise her son; giving her an opportunity to advance in her career. So from ages 3 to 9 I was a parent to him. I’ve been told I did a pretty good job on him. To me, it was the most natural thing to read bedtimes stories (it helped me practice French too!) to play with the kid, do homework with him, to encourage and be fascinated as he learns and grows. Being involved. I never once swore at him. Never even crossed my mind. To me, that’s unacceptable behaviour.

Kids don’t come with a handbook, we all know that. We also know that children can be a handful. They can be very trying. My parents can attest to that, they had 6! Kids have that special talent to get on your very last nerve. But to swear like that at your kids? To me, that’s just wrong.

Since then, I’ve heard the same neighbour a few times swearing at the kids. And it’s different kids each time. They’re not all her children. Much like my home in Stouffville growing up, it was like a ‘home-base’ for kids during the summer where there was always something going on. So, at this neighbour’s house, I see children in different age ranges boys and girls in ages that range from probably 7 to 13. One day last week I heard two boys talking after the most recent verbal abuse. “Gee your mom’s hot, too bad she’s such a bitch!” The other kid just said quietly, “Ya, I know.” It’s got to be embarrassing for these kids, (I’m told by my friend that these neighbours have one boy and one girl, everyone else is just hanging out.) I’d love to comment and challenge her; asking her why she talks to her kids (and the neighbourhood kids) like that. But I don’t want to cause any tension or friction between my friends and their neighbours; so I’ll bite my tongue on this one and just use this as my outlet, yet again.

Everyone parents differently. I get that, but doesn’t some natural instinct or at the very least some common sense tell a parent that children are to be encouraged and supported; not demeaned, belittled and verbally abused? I’ve met some amazing parents, and some terrible ones. (just my opinion folks, like I said everyone does it differently) Kids learn by example. When these kids turn into adults and have kids of there own, are these kids going to be swearing at their kids? Very possibly, but I sure hope not.

Hug your kids, you're lucky you have them.

Bullying and the rhetorical question, why?

A few weeks ago my wife and I went out with a buddy to see his cousin’s band. Good ol’ Rock & Roll, which I’m always up for. We drove up to Stouffville to meet him at the bar they were playing at. I’m always on edge going up to Stouffville. We only lived there for 6 years (1975 - 1981) but that was more than enough. My wife and I entered the bar and saw my buddy right away and shook hands and settled in to his reserved table. Right away, I was looking around the place, taking it all in and seeing who I’d recognize. Stouffville is a pretty small town, and you usually bump into someone, family, friends, old school acquaintances; there’s almost always someone. Suddenly I recognized someone I hadn’t seen in 30 years, give or take. I had an anxiety attack right there. My buddy saw my eyes watering and asked me if I was ok. I told him it was my allergies acting up and I’d be ok in a minute or two. He seemed to buy it. Of course I was lying. I’ve never been allergic to anything in my life. But seeing that woman brought back a ton of memories that I was, and still am, trying to keep suppressed.

Growing up for the first 10 years of my life in Scarborough, I can’t recall one single instance of bullying. Not one. Never even heard the word or knew what the term meant. In summer of ’75, my parents packed us up and we moved to Stouffville. We were the second family in a brand new subdivision. One neighbouring family down the street was all there was. It was the week before school started. It was tough going into a new school, grade 5, not knowing anyone. I was a shy kid and was slow to make friends. I genuinely liked school and had outstanding ‘Lisa Simpson’ quality grades, until grade 5. Everything changed that year. I guess the newness of everything took its toll on me.

I guess I seemed like an easy target. I guess the shy kids always are. I didn’t know how to defend myself of even if I should? There’s another thing that Stouffville brought to our family that was new… church. So, I was this new kid getting progressively picked on, and then I’m learning in Sunday school that ‘Jesus said’ ….”turn the other cheek” …. (Matthew 5:38-42… & Luke 6:27-31…look it up…) As a 10 year old kid, that’s pretty confusing stuff. At that age, for me anyway, everything is literal. You believe what adults tell you, and didn’t ask too many questions. You just took it at face value. I was ‘taught’ not to defend myself.

At home, I had ‘fights’ with my sisters, and I always got shit anytime I ended up smacking one of them. In our house rule #1 was you can’t hit girls; I have four sisters and I totally get that and agree with that philosophy. But there were times that my sisters would antagonize me and provoke me in overkill because they knew I could fight back. It’s a tough lesson to learn as a kid. So, I learned not to defend myself.

As the years went on, the bullying got worse. It started with name calling from my appearance, to my clothing (heck… I was wearing orange denim and blue plastic ‘moon’ boots… I guess I had it coming!?!) and yes, my hat got taken playing ‘keep away’. Not so bad in public school. You learn to deal with those things yourself. Internally. It high school it got pretty bad. Real bad I guess.

The drunk woman across the bar that night was one of the worst. No need to name names (that’s not what my blogs are about) but I couldn’t forget her. She was good looking, but a complete bitch. She sat behind me in Mrs. Krabi’s class. One day, for whatever reason, she reached down under her desk, and she lit my shirt on fire. Burnt a hole the size of my fist right through my baseball shirt. I had a minor burn, and my shirt was ruined, but the humiliation was off the charts. Why? I still remember the sound of her laughing her ass off. Sends shivers down my spine.

That was one of the worst incidents, but there were many others. One guy constantly tried to drown me in Stouffville creek. Sometimes on the way to school, but usually on the way home. I came home so soaked, so often that my parents thought I was the clumsiest kid around for ‘falling’ in the creek. They never knew I was pushed in with my head held under that cold dirty water. I never told them. What could they do? Tell me to do what Jesus would do? Tell a teacher? A lot of the times the incidents were off school property. The older kid trying to drown me was also my goalie on my hockey team! I felt I couldn’t get away from it. If you ever asked them, my parents will tell you that I went through a ‘phase’, that I was a clumsy kid. When I signed up for ‘stuntman school’ in 1992, they reminded me… “Remember all those times you fell down the stairs as a kid? … Maybe you shouldn’t take that course…” They never knew I fell down the stairs on purpose as a way of getting out of school for the day; because I didn’t want to face those bullies.

So, when we moved out of Stouffville in 1981, I was 16 and figured out a few things. Enough to know I need to make a serious change; on my own. My new school, Uxbridge Secondary didn’t know me, I had another fresh start and this time would be different. I quickly became the class clown. If I made people laugh; they weren’t going to be bullying me, and just maybe, I could make some friends along the way. I did a lot of funny and crazy things, and made some great friends. “Rhodesbusters” was pretty funny. My personal favourite would have been my buddies and I noticing a broken cable hanging down the side of the school building and them daring me to scale the wall like Adam West in the old Batman tv series. I got halfway up the second story looking into the window of the class room on that second floor when the cable broke. I fell down the 2 stories and landed in a garbage can. A few cuts and bruises, nothing serious we all had a big laugh. My point is, that version me knew that if people are laughing at you they weren’t beating you or worse. I’m not saying that is the answer for everyone to counter bullying, but that was just my way that I came up with on my own. And it worked, I never got bullied again. If you ask someone who knew me from Stouffville High School, they’d probably tell you he was a quiet kid. If you asked someone from Uxbridge High School about me, they’d probably remember me as ‘funny’. But those 6 years in Stouffville were tough and sometimes I wonder how I came out of them alive. Who knows how I would have turned out if we never moved away from there to give me a second chance away from bullies?

What the hell was going through these kids’ heads? Why would some chick, who never talked to me, never knew me, set me on fire, in the classroom? Why would some guy repeatedly stalk me, and when he found me, drag me into the Stouffville creek and try and drown me? WHY? I'll never get an answer to these questions, there really isn't one. These people never knew me. They probably knew nothing about me other than I was this shy kid that didn’t know how to defend himself. Guess that made me an easy target. Today, I still don't drink from water fountains, because in my head there's a line up a kids that will sneak up behind me a push my face into the porcelain, again.

Bullying is still around and probably stronger than ever. Just a couple weeks ago, a friend of mine was telling me how his kid got 'swarmed' at school. Kids can be even bullied online. I read about kids these days in the papers. Kids are dying out there; committing suicide in some extreme cases because they don’t know how to stop the bullying. Many times the parents, like in my case, are oblivious to it. I turned out ok. I’ve got a great wife and an amazing circle of friends, and enjoy my life immensely;  I just avoid Stouffville for the most part, that place can still haunt me.

Ok, you’ve read this far, here’s a couple of note worthy articles on bullying. A good insight for you parents out there.

Time to take the bully by the horns
http://www.torontosun.com/comment/editorial/2009/03/01/8576226-sun.html

In a Bully’s Own Words.
http://www.torontosun.com/news/columnists/michele_mandel/2009/03/01/8576361-sun.html

Why Was Phoebe Prince Bullied?
http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20360860,00.html

The Web: The Bully’s New Playground.
http://www.people.com/people/archive/article/0,,20147083,00.html

The Art of Listening?

Stop, collaborate and listen!

To test out the ‘waters’ and see if this whole blog thing is something I want to do from time to time; I thought I’d start with one of the things the bothers me everyday.

People don’t listen to each other. People need to rant, vent and discuss! They need an outlet and sometimes just lending an ear can make all the difference. You might be surprised at the difference you can make just by hearing someone out and letting them talk out there issues. Here’s a personal example…

A long time ago, I was playing playing hide-and-seek with a group of kids one evening in a subdivision where I grew up. After a couple of hours, the sun began to set and one by one the kids went home. Some went off because the rule at the time was to be home by sundown; others went in to watch whatever sports were on tv. Me? I still wanted to hang out with friends; I wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. As it turned out, there was one other kid that felt the same as I did. So we stayed at the hide-and-seek home base, which was a big rock on the lawn of another friend’s house.

This kid and I sat down and listened to the sudden quietness of the street, that just minutes before had a dozen or so kids running around and having fun. Now; almost silence. After a few minutes of this, this kid looks at me and says “Dave, do you ever have thoughts about suicide?” I was certainly caught off guard, by his choice of topic, but I assured him I did. To me, I thought those kind of feelings kind of came and went every now and then throughout your childhood years and into your teens. I thought everyone had them. My thoughts came specifically from bullying; but that’s a topic for another day… So, we talked about suicide. I guess what surprised me most about his initial question was that this kid was so popular! The girls all liked him and the guys always wanted him to be on their sports team. First lesson learned that night; even popular kids have suicidal thoughts.

So, we talked and shared those terrible thoughts that as a kid you’re ‘not supposed to’ discuss. When the topic seemed to have ran its course; and asked him if he still had the suicidal thoughts. He assured me he didn’t and thanked me for taking the time to listen to everything he wanted to get off his chest and helping him deal with those thoughts. Second lesson learned that night; listening can make a huge difference to someone who needs to talk.

That was the last time I saw him; as just a few days later he died in a car accident.

It was terrible and sad. For many of us as kids, it would be the first time we had to deal with death. Not to be crude or crass, but when your time on this earth is over; then it’s over. Unfortunately, dying is a part of living. BUT to this day, I’m thankful that kid didn’t take his own life and I was there to listen to him when no one else did. I still feel I made a difference to him.

That’s the first time in my life, that I really felt change. For the following decades I went over the top to make sure I helped out a friend in need. Even if it was just to listen to what they’re going through. I felt that I could make a small difference just by having them rant, vent and discuss what they were going through. Problems with drugs, alcohol, marriages/relationships, abuse, infidelities; whatever the case was, I listened. I enjoyed the helpful feeling at the end of it; the feeling that I possibly made a difference to someone, again.

Over the years life changes, we progress, we move forward, our circle of friends change. I’m still that good listener I was then; I just don’t have the same amount of time to devote to being there for everyone. I’m married. I have a larger extended family and I have issues of my own. I’ll still listen, and I’ll try and be that sounding board you need when I can. Email me, we’ll hook up and have coffee.

Just trying this out.

I've never tried the 'blog' thing before; I'd figured I'd give it a chance. I like sharing music, pics, stories with people and this is just another way to due that. I'll write about fun stuff and not so fun/life changing stuff. I'm not into naming names all the time either. You'll notice I might make my point and still protect people's privacy. So, let's see where this goes....