[as some of you may already know, i am in a hip hop band called unexplained bacon. what follows is a diary from the recently completed unexplained bacon "rural tragedy '06 tour," that saw my band playing a whopping two consecutive shows in peterborough and ottawa. our two-city joke tour was a blast and a half, filled with hearty meals, hearty laughter, and hearty heartiness. enjoy the photos.]

day one: april 28th

after completing a marathon 1 hour job interview, i make my way over to neil’s place to prepare for the trip. musical gear for the beats? check. costumes? check. makeup? check. credit cards? check. we arrive at budget rental car and neil tells the girl from behind the counter that we’re both visiting toronto from new brunswick, and we’re only here for a couple of days. even though i’m caught off guard by the blatant lies, i go with it, and we procure a sweet car from the underground lot. we load up and hit the “road”.

after about 15min of bumper to bumper traffic on the DVP, i’m ready to go home. being stuck in highway traffic gives you a shitload of time to ponder your meaningless existence, and i’m just awestruck by the fact that traffic in toronto is probably this bad every single day. later in this roadtrip, i will realize that i haven’t bought gas in a few years, and i didn’t miss it one bit.

the DVP is lined with clusters of human filing cabinets that poke out from above the trees that line the don river. i used to live in one such filing cabinet, 13 floors above the ground.

i forget to bring any music on the trip, but thankfully neil has brought some of his own to keep our ears ringing for the entire weekend. we start by listening to bad religion‘s how could hell be any worse, which causes neil to break into a rousing chorus of “white trash (2nd generation)” before i break into a startling rendition of “frogger,” perhaps the most innane bad religion song ever.

we make our first stop, at a harvey’s in bowmanville, where the service is top notch and the food is like something out of a commercial. just the colours of the toppings behind the glass are enough to make me feel like i’m in some kind of psychedelic eatery from heaven.

i order the veggie burger combo, and i’m actually pretty surprised by how good it is. harvey’s veggie burger is vegan, and it’s a kind of soy patty that is flavoured pretty well to approximate the real thing. at the risk of sounding like a harvey’s commercial, i would recommend their veggie burger for any north america-travelling vegans out there who find themselves in a jam.

the french fries included with the meal are also (surprisingly) good. even the subpar ketchup i use as a dip can’t hold back the delicious potato flavour. and again at the risk of sounding like a harvey’s jingle, i must say that these fries will not let you down. there i said it. i wash the foodstuffs down with some sharp lemonade and fill up my water bottle for the rest of the car ride.

back in the rental, i notice the text written on the garbage bag wedged into the glove compartment. this is one of those unintentionally profound moments where you gain insight into the universe from the crassness of consumer culture. nevermind the fact that using a litter bag doesn’t “protect the land” so much as allow us to strategically ship our garbage to different areas of the land, and nevermind the fact that the best way to protect yourself from car accidents is not to ride in them…

we arrive in peterborough around 7pm and make it to grassroots cafe in time to get some food and do a quick equipment check. as evidenced in the photo above, grassroots uses a pretty spartan (and precarious) setup, so it’s a good thing we don’t use very much gear.

the band that plays before us is a two person affair called the human music marvels, who dabble in some sort of weird metal-electro-pop fusion, though those three words hardly sum it up their sound. with a drummer/keyboardist and a guitar player/singer, they sound like a cross between the melvins on a bad day and depeche mode on a good day… the result, though, doesn’t really sound like either of those bands.

around 11pm, unexplained bacon (mine and neil’s band) takes the floor and turns it into some sort of white boy hip hop sweat lodge. while in the past we may have espoused some fairly nihilistic philosophies, this time we bring a message of redemption and the power of positive thinking. our new ethos comes courtesy of the inspirational true story of the one and only brian roman.

the show starts with me spending a lot of time on my knees, playing (what my friend lisa would later describe as) the part of a confused pre-teen girl trying to tell a story full of gibberish, while the crowd looks on in horror and bemusement. people don’t generally know how to react to the “in-your-face”-ness of our show, so some people smile awkwardly while other just stand there stone-faced.

the three faces of neil thompson, AKA MC Futuristic Milk Blimp: 1) thug messiah. this is the face of neil as he tries to bring the power of positive thinking to the slack-jawed folks who have gathered in the bar. this is the face he uses when he wants to speak “the language of the people.”

2) drunk uncle. this is the face of neil that manifests itself as the show progresses, and mr. thompson begins losing steam and seeking some sort of midget to prop himself up on. at this point in the program, neil is slurring his words so badly, his message is lost on the masses.

3) chuck norris on a heroin binge, looking for a fix. finally, this is neil finding his fourth wind and forcing his veins to bulge out to the point of bursting. when you are confronted with this face, know that neil plans to take no guff from strangers, including you.

at some point in the show, neil produces to sets of pantyhose from a bag and hands me one. without having to think too much about it, i throw it over my head and keep going. a song or two later, i have clamored up onto the bar itself, and i am point a burning hot light fixture at my face, continuing to sing. (the grease on my face comes from some guy who was trying to each french fries during our set, when i grabbed a handful and mashed them in the pantyhose covering my mouth.)

the show ends with neil and i locked in a carnal embrace, sharing our most intimate feelings with the whole crowd. in the end, we both agree that this show was probably one of our best, and most enjoyable. the audience was cool, the sound was loud, and we managed to remember all of our lyrics. we change back into our “normal” clothes and keep moving.

day two: april 29th

after the dust has settled over another spectacular disaster, we give my friend jess a ride home and say our goodbyes. jess says the show was great, and although i usually have a hard time accepting the compliments of friends (or anyone), i believe her.

it is never really a good idea to drive at night, especially after you’ve just screamed your lungs out for a good hour and you’ve got a three hour drive ahead of you. against all good sense, neil and i decide it’s best to drive to ottawa instead of sleeping in peterborough, and we depart at about 1am. with nelly‘s country grammar as a soundtrack, the ride is a blur of oncoming headlights and spirited conversation. neil and i keep each other away with absurd jokes and a healthy game of “what would brian roman do.”

after holding together our stinging bladders for most of the ride while passing closed gas stations and rest stops, we find a tim horton’s in perth with food, caffeine, and washrooms. i get a whole wheat veggie sandwich and a gigantic caffeinated tea.

outside, the temperature has dipped to below zero, and as i splash the remaining contents of my water bottle on the parking lot pavement, it pretty much instantly turns to ice.

with caffeine coursing through our veins, the rest of the ride to ottawa is a blast, and we arrive somewhere between 4-5am to wake up our host jacquie blue. note that in the background you can see the light in the window that indicates the sun is coming up. jacquie offers us beers, and since we have been holding off because of driving and whatnot, it is a welcome offer. we drink a couple and fall asleep around 6am.

we wake up around 10am to the sound of moving trucks parking two feet away from us in the living room. roommate sandra is doing dishes, and the sound of water splashing sounds like an undersea adventure to our sleep-deprived ears. on the roof of the apartment, ladymilk beat maestro chris parker sits smugly as unexplained bacon emerges from the darkness.

a few feet away, ladymilk singer (and hostess extraordinaire) jacquie blue scoffs at our exhausted psychobabble as she takes a long drag from a sexy cigarette.

an interesting factoid: three of the four members of ladymilk share an apartment above the ottawa curling club. if you listen carefully, you can hear the sound of rocks clacking in the background of their curling-inspired musical mish-mash.

bleary-eyed but alive, jacquie, neil and i make our way to ottawa’s infamous best pies lebanese food joint. we feast upon absolutely fucking delicious pies covered in thyme and vegetables, piping hot from the oven.

as we sit on the grass outside best pies, a small three month old pug dog, quite possibly the cutest little guy i have ever seen, comes to say hello. according to his human he is teething, and he spends a good ten minutes chewing on various parts of my shorts and liking and nibbling on parts of my face. even though i was already having a good day, this little guy makes it just that much better.

we return home to find party bat still going strong. oh, party bat! when will you ever stop partying? as party bat catches his fifth wind, we retire for an afternoon nap.

before the night’s show, neil and i go for a romantic dinner at the sacred garden vegetarian thai restaurant on bank street. holy moly. besides three dishes that have egg as an optional addition, this is a vegan paradise. seriously. if you’re ever in ottawa, you must go there. the picture above, while endearing, doesn’t do it justice.

at the avant garde bar, ladymilk are the first band to rock out like it’s 1994. i must say, i was impressed as hell by the milk’s performance, and i would play with this band anytime. do yourself a favour and check out their website, where you can download a bootload of their songs for absolutely zero dollars.

after the milk comes the bacon, though i have no pictures to showcase our showdown. in the wake of unexplained bacon‘s delightful devastation, 2 fans bust out the bon jovi covers (twice!) and prove that there is more to life than actually trying.

day three: april 30th

and what can i say about mad happy? well, imagine the hippy slacker hacky-sackers from your local paranoia park getting together to make southern fried floridian flavoured hip-hop. i’m still not sure whether i should love or hate them, or if their music was good or not. one thing’s for sure: for a band that were supposed to be the crazy weird out-of-towners, they were out-freaked not once, not twice, but thrice. floridian hippie-hop is no match for the hardcore ottawa freak scene.

we arrive back at the ladymilk house of wax around 3am, only to find party bat still in party mode. oh party bat! you are a one bat wrecking crew! neil and i crash out around 5am, leaving party bat drinking alone, yet again.

around 10am, we awake to play an earnest game of “pile the gear on sleeping jacquie,” which is always good for a laugh. it is a game we get to play so rarely, and i find it so much more satisfying (and probably more ethical) than “stuff on my cat”. the thing about “pile the gear on sleeping jacquie” is that everyone’s a winner, every single time.

for brunch, we head to the elgin st. diner, a greasy spoon in ottawa that harbours a secret vegan gravy that delights your tastebuds with it’s gravy goodness. i eat an anarchy burger (hold the government) and pour vegan gravy over everything in sight.

back out on elgin street, two members of the milk peform a rare goodbye stomach-drumming ritual that leaves both neil and i breathless and wanting more. unfortunately for us, the stomach-drumming is a seldom-seen phenomenon, and there will be no encore. we part ways with parker and jacquie and begin the long trek home, still undefeated.

we stop back in peterborough to visit my parents and pick up a vagrant named ray in a park. he is so absolutely hideous and downtrodden that i can only show you his feet.

and again with the traffic. yeesh. welcome home unexplained bacon! why don’t you just relax and sit in the midst of idling cars on the 401 for an hour or two before you head home? wouldn’t that be nice? neil and i arrive back to find our city the exact same as when we left it.

and that’s how unexplained bacon rented a car and conquered the world. join us next tour for more antics, more fun, and more veggie burgers. until then, keep fit and have fun.

love,
karol orzechowski,
AKA MC Prehistoric Flying Wing Machine.