Goo Fellas

Although I don't plan on visiting sit-down restaurants anymore, I wanted to support small eateries if possible. On Tuesday, I visited a take-out spot on Montreal Rd called Kin Malebo. It was next to the strip mall containing Golden Crust Pizza. The server didn't speak any English and I had only high school French. But we finally agreed that I wanted 4 samoussa ($3.50/each). They were stuffed with beef and were closer to Sa'hara's sambusa than an Indian samosa. Unfortunately, they weren't that good as they lacked the speckled texture of the former and the fragrant flavour of the latter.

On Sunday, I returned to the same area to try the last of the 3 food trucks. Whereas the other two served tacos and falafel, Frys Guys was your classic chip wagon: burgers, hot dogs, and fries. The medium poutine ($8 all-in) was comparable to the Great Poutinerie with thick gravy and chewy curds. Good portion size and fairly cheap? Sounds good to me.

While I was waiting for my order, an older man noticed the zombie on the back of my Alex Lahey's band tee. No, I wasn't really into horror movies. Our conversation led to an astonishing story about his friend's cousin who has been "possessed" for 25 years. Over 40 exorcisms failed to cure her, leaving her to live an isolated life with her elderly parents. The friend was also a priest so his own visits were usually fraught and tense. I was silently bemused: don't we live in modern times with better diagnoses like mental illness or neurodivergence? But once he mentioned that this was in some remote place in Southern Quebec, a lightbulb went off. Outside of cosmopolitan Montreal, la belle province can be a bit stuck in the past.

Blast From The Past

I attended a few shows during my first months back in Ottawa. Soon enough, the terrible public transit and heavy car traffic killed my desire to go out. I went out when I visited Toronto but it has been almost two years in my hometown. On Wednesday, I headed to the Byward Market to see Texas-based The Bright Light Social Hour at the 27 Club (formerly Zaphod Beeblebrox).

I was so impressed by them at The CMW more than a decade ago at tiny Supermarket that I saw them again a few nights later for a 2 a.m. set! They came through Toronto a few more times, getting progressively trippier. Their Ottawa show at Mavericks was actually cancelled. But at the last minute, the owner of Zaphod reached out (they apparently played there last time) and the concert was back on. Perhaps this was why it was a sparse crowd tonight. But they bought a lot of merch, so hopefully it wasn't a total wash.

The surprisingly great sound system at 27 Club was better than muddy Mavericks. TBLSH played high-energy, complex music and all the components including vocals, guitar, drums, synth were balanced and clear. The bassist recalled an early review calling them "hillbilly disco". Well, yee-haw because opening number Back and Forth and the penultimate Shanty still brought the funk. New tunes (Most High, Prefecture) from their latest album Emergency Leisure had a hint of pop but were still rocking. Even numbers from their psychedelic Space Is Still The Place I & II seemed more muscular for this show.

I loved (and so did everyone else) that their encore was the blues-rock Detroit. With the loss of the original drummer and keyboardist/background vocalist, I didn't think they would play it anymore. A big part of the song was a heavy metal-esque drum solo that segue into a coda with a soaring falsetto harmony. This version couldn't quite reached those heights but the new members did an excellent job.

I haven't enjoyed myself like this in some time. Tonight was better than the last time I was at Zaphod's and it certainly was better than my first time here some decades back. My lovesick delusion started at a show by The Shuffle Demons (also sparsely attended). I was already gaga for my crush for about a year but that night was the first of our solo outings. My hope was sparked when they wanted a non-group hang. It only grew when confided that they had ended an intense relationship.

If only my older and wiser self could talk to that callow youth. They were high-school sweethearts who tried to maintain a long-distance relationship in college with letters, phone calls, cross-country visits, and summer vacation back in their small town. People don't move on from experiences like that for a while. Also, here is an apropos quip from the future: "They're just not that into you". I'd thank myself for the advice and avoid 4 years of heartache.