4 AM is the new 2AM

First Mauzy Day
- Ah Tom… there seems to be this clanging noise…
- Bring it in.
With Russ’s Rhubarb – pull it from the bottom! Take more! – wilting on the deck left to unwittingly left to Anna, I coached the machine up from Petty Harbour through St John’s was as nerve racking as it can get as while aren’t grand stretches of uninhabited areas, I wasn’t in the mood for an enforced stroll.

The problem was corrected and was on my way in no time.

Stopped by the TD Bank in Water Street to change over some funds – what a depressing scenario that was.
1999 $100us = C$130.
2007 $100us = C$104.

Was still recovering from the shock when a horn sounded at Prescott and Duckworth thought that I had fallen into the street but it was only Fennelly who jumped out of his machine and we bear hugged on the corner – any other place in the world this may have been a sight – two men one with a pink white and green bag embracing in public here it were two “patriots”. Brief catch up, told him about the show and we were both off.

Back at the cottage, break out Ubirajara who isn’t used to being the favourite and headed for a marl about Petty Harbour.

Did it once in the winter of the blizzards and seemed to remember things that were no longer here – more conveniences for one. Stuck to the road on the south side of town partaking more in formalist exercises – except when I came to a clothes line – than photographing objects.

Walked until the village ended then crossed the bridge and with the plan of doing the same.

Ran into a person painting the Petty Harbour Convenience.

-it is dementia setting in or wasn’t there mural of the Titanic on the façade?

-yes, I change it every so often.

Made his snap.

Here I left the road and headed for the piers, something I would do when I had objects in mind but usually around the rooms and shed I tend to shy away a bit for these areas are rife with stereotypical Newfoundland nostalgia – SNN – crab and lobster traps – the more in disrepair the better, lines, boats upside down. Looking out from the cottage I see streams of cars stop on the northern shore people get out make their snaps and get back in again. They snake their way over here, drive up the cul de sac, turn around, stop make a snap of the opposite shore and race on down the Irish Loop.

For some reason I concentrated on gutting tables until I stopped at the Scademia tour boat office when Mandy said something.

She didn’t want to have her picture taken, it was a bad hair day but rules are rules and it was pretty painless. Her boss Charlie suffered the same fate. Found out that Charlie has sailed to Baltimore from here.

Wandered back all over the place – a bit of formalism, a bit clothes lines whatever hit my fancy.

For some reason I don’t really get going her until around 11pm, it is then that I start writing, seeing what I did that day with the digital, obsess about whether the images will come out after hauling the film to and from the states – there is a remedy for that but I don’t have a job here.

To-night one of Anna’s friends – is playing at CBTG’s (closest bar to gullivars. The band is 30 000 feet one member was once part of God’s Last Name. The show starts at 23:30.

It was strange to have the first bar I enter not be the Duke – hope Terry doesn’t read this – even stranger when the draughts were out so no Smithwicks. Drank what all the indie rockers drink an India Beer.

Pity musicians when we entered there was a lone bloke on stage trying to be heard over everyone there who was ignoring him. Wasn’t bad but should have stuck to punk rock and changed the volume every once in a while.

Highlights of the night was a Screech In – remember the name of this place is a derivation of a famous bar on the Bowery and they have tourists flocking in to be Screeched. Of course they were Upper Canadians with the exception of one German. So we have the bar keep in a Rolling Stones t-shirt doing the ceremony.

The group was followers of a band which then took the stage and stunk it up – supposedly they are famous in T.O but here they couldn’t keep up a rhythm.

The third set at 3:30 when they jammed again with the pissed Upper Canadians until 4:30. the band was still going, their girlfriends wanted to go.

The RNC were waiting as we left the pub, I am sure the area was rife for drunk driving tickets.

We walk down Water Street to the machine, I pick up a bottle which is standing up beside my rear tyre and place is near the façade of the building.

The RNC pulls up slowly.

-evening sir
-evening
-how many beers have you had to-night sir?
-three, the last one two hours ago.
-including the beer you just put down there sir?
I look – no that as behind the wheel of the machine, I simply moved it.

He went on his way, ah the perks of driving a Volvo.

Got home in time to hear the Ode starting the new day on Radio One and the sun
lighten the sky.