I am back from my weekend vacation in Portland, ON, and I need a vacation from my vacation. I’m pretty sure my liver is still in the Winchester Arms quivering like a little girl in the corner. My eyes are as dry as can be from being around animals I am allergic to for 4 days, and my bum still hurts from the border crossing on the way into Canada. All in all, I would rate it the best weekend ever!
It all started with me waking up at 4:45 Thursday to get to the airport on time for an International flight. Everyone I spoke to was advising me to be at Logan at least 2 hours early, and having never taken an International flight before, I believed them. Well, thanks for nothing! I walked right in, got my bag checked, walked through security, and was sitting at my gate waiting for my flight by myself a full 2 hours and 30 minutes before the mother fucker took off. I guess I don’t look suspicious. After all, who is going to stop a fat kid wearing a Goonblog T-shirt listening to a pink iPod, and carrying two copies of The Hockey News? My point exactly.
Now, arriving in Ottawa was a bit different. After sitting on the tarmac in Boston for some bullshit, we got airborne, and made the 49 minute trek to the Great White North. As an aside, this seems like a good time to mention this. Almost $600.00 bucks is a little excessive for a 49 minute flight no? Janet says it’s more now too. Yet, I digress. Dave was very specific in the instructions I was to give the Customs Agent upon my arrival..I’m visiting a friend I went to High School withhis address isI will be here for 5 days.I am not going to a Farm.Well, evidently, the Canadians think I look guilty, because these guys grilled me like I was a steak. First I talked with the guy in the booth and he didn’t like what I was selling, so he sent me into the Immigration Office. That guy was very concerned about why the sudden urge to go to Canada and so forth. He was asking me a series of questions about my Passport, and had I ever been to Canada and so forth.Why now? What are you guys going to do? After assuring the man I had no other intentions of drinking beer, going for a boat ride, and possibly eating enough Poutine to kill a miniature horse near Dave’s place, I was allowed to proceed.
Dave picked me up, and after a slight delay in getting a digital camera at Best Buy. We were well on our way to Portland. If you’ve never been to Ontario, it looks a lot like Central Indiana. If you’ve never been to Central Indiana, I will describe. Lots of corn fields, and very flat terrain. Very pretty countryside. Dave and I spoke of the plans on the hour and a half drive, and my suspicions were confirmed. We were in for a gasser. Thursday was dinner at the Foley, Jazz night at the cove, and drinks at Ducks. Friday was some plan with Gooch and his peeps, Saturday was Better than Christmas Bundy Fest at the Westport Arena, and Sunday was Sunday Funday at the Galley. As he was describing this, I am 99% sure the scream from my liver was audible above Dave’s iPod.
Thursday started at the Foley House where I made a tactical error by ordering wings. The locals both got tenders and fries, but this kid had to go off the reservation and get wings. In the States when you say medium wings, you get medium hot wings. In Ontario, that means you get Wing Dings with a semi spicy barbeque sauce all over them. Live and learn eh? So, after a couple of beers and crappy wings at the Foley, we headed around the corner for Jazz night at the Cove. We met young Spencer there, and to say this guy is a character is an understatement. Picture a young Jack Nicholson when he goes fucking nuts in the Shining, and you’ve got Spencer. Super nice guy, just a little touched upstairs. We also met Amy, and Christa (I think that’s how you spell) and they were all over me because Loonies (a dollar, which looks like a messed up stop sign) and Toonies (2 dollar coin that looks like something you’d redeem at a go kart track for 8 laps of fun) were freaking me out. In between Janet serving me (soup for one?) and my jokes about knocking out the center of a bunch of Toonies to make a shower curtain, we managed to put a sizeable dent in their Molson Canadian stock. We weren’t done yet, as it was on to Ducks Roadhouse from Jazz night.
Ducks can best be described as a trailer on the side of a road that someone fixed up and made a sweet little bar out of. It has a jukebox (no Rush?! What’s the deal with that eh?) And a kickass pool table. Plus enough 19-24 year old girls to shake a stick at. When I die, I hope heaven is just like this place. Ducks featured a sweet fried appetizer platter, more Canadian, even more serving, and some of the best bar pictures and videos ever. My first night in Canada could not have gone any better. At the end of the night, we said goodnight, and we’d meet Saturday for Bundy Slam!
Friday could not have been less productive. I got up at 1:15, followed by Dave at 3:15. By the time Dave stumbled awake, I had eaten, and had three beers. I was leveling off, and he was not well. We got a couple of drinks in him, and he bounced right back though. I was impressed actually. Gooch and the gang arrived at 5, or 6? I can’t remember. Too many beers ago. Anyway, it was Gooch, Amy, Jen and Carrie. We enjoyed some burgers, Muddy Mud Skippers, and a rousing game of Cranium. These guys cheated at Cranium though because it was the Canadian version. No I don’t know the time difference between Newfoundland, and Moose Jaw! Also, we learned a synonym for Iron. Smoovie. Great story from Amy, I really can’t do it justice here. You’ll have to trust me.
Saturday I think I was up at 11:30, and had some poutine and 2 beers in me by 12:30. We boated over to the Galley and sat on the deck enjoying the sunshine. Gooch and the gang had to peace out for a tour of the Army Base in Kingston, so Dave, Janet and I were left on our own until Bundy Slam! What we did with that time was watch movies, nap, and have a few beers. Spencer and Todd (wow) dropped by for a couple of beer in the afternoon. Todd was a little primed up for Bundy Slam, as he was having a hard time figuring out the Best of Chris Farley video Dave and I were watching. Todd, it’s the same guy. Not sure he’s invited back.
While Dave was napping after Spencer and Todd left, Janet made dinner, and I helped. That is to say, I drank beer in the kitchen and watched. We needed a good base of food because it was Bundy Slam 2008! Apparently this Bundy guy rents out the Westport Arena every year, has a huge party with a bunch of bands, and all the money goes to the Westport Jr. B team, the Westport Rideaus. I am thinking very seriously about making Bundy Slam an annual event. To quote the kid at the Galley we saw in the afternoon, Maaaaan..it’s better than Christmas! Agreed!
They pack this arena with a shit load of kids, charge 20 bucks a whack to get in, 6 beers for 20 bucks, and party like the sun will not rise the next day. Not sure what it is about Canadian women, but it looked like a hot young girl bomb went off in that arena, and there was shrapnel everywhere. I was on the outside looking in as I am happily married, and I was older than most of the girls in there by at least 5 years. We looked a little out of place, but who cares? We had a blast and the bands weren’t too bad either.
Sunday Funday started with a lovely dip in the lake and some fetch with the puppies, and ended with me on the pullout downstairs pondering my life. In between we had some girly drinks, more poutine, a wicked dance party, and some serious fun. The Galley was our destination for poutine and girly drinks, the dance party was on the boat, and the fun was all around. My hosts were gracious and accommodating, and I met some new friends as well. All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better experience in Ontario, and I will be back for Bundy Slam ’09. Hopefully sooner.
P.S. No podcast. I know I promised, but we were without internet and sobriety for the whole weekend. The internet went out courtesy of a lightning strike..the sobriety was just documented here. Dave will be down in September. We’ll do one then.