KELLY'S DEMO REEL

So one day I was hanging out in the living room and I think I was preparing to direct a music video when Kelly came in and asked what I was doing. I explained that I was figuring out some ideas for a music video and he then said "You wanna see the music video I did for Metal Church?" "Sure! Yeah! That would be great!" He goes back into his room and returns with a VHS cassette and plops it on the TV. The video can be seen here:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=JWnw6viTfFE

He said he directed and shot everything but I don't honestly think that that was entirely true.
I was polite and said it was great. Then he said that he had a demo reel of the live sound mixing he's done.

"A video of your sound mixing?"
"You'll see."

I figured, it's probably a live camera pointed at the stage and then the mixed sound being fed directly into the camera.

He puts the tape into the vcr and then I hear a live crowd cheering and then some music all put to nothing but porno cum-shots.

"What the hell?" I ask.
"What's the one thing that everyone in the world likes? PORNO! And what's the one thing everyone wants in a porno? Cum shots. So I edited all the best cum shots to the various bands I've mixed over the years."
"And this is your demo reel?"
Kelly replied quite proudly "Yup."
"You've shown this to strangers for potential work?"
"Yup."

I had watched about 20 seconds worth and left in disbelief.

HOCKEY NIGHT IN CANADA

Craig McEwen and Steve Maier came over to my place one night and we were heading out to a pub. Craig had probably already met Kelly personally before this but it was Steve's very first time. Kelly hung out with us for a bit and it was all pleasant. Before we left, I had to take my dog for a walk. Craig and Steve opted to just hang out and have a beer while I was out. Kelly, was in his room watching the hockey game on his massive TV and was also quietly noodling around on his guitar. When I got back, we were all getting ready to go when I guess the Canucks scored a goal because the sound of cheers erupted from his TV, the commentators were yelling and then suddenly, blasting from Kelly's amp was a lead-guitar version of the familiar victory "CHARGE!" ditty (you know the one: bu-da da, dunh da-da...CHARGE!") which was then immediately followed up by a lead-guitar rock version of the Hockey Night In Canada theme song. Stellar. What a great way to start the evening. Thanks Kelly!!!

CRAIG VS. KELLY

One night, while I was out on the town somewhere doing something, my friend Craig called for me. Kelly answered the phone and for the first time, Craig got to know my new roommate. According to Craig, this is how the conversation went...

"Hello?"
"Is Johnny there?"
"No. Who's this?"
"This is Craig. You must be Kelly."
"Yup. What are you doing tonight?"
"Ahhh, I'm just at home, nothing much."
"I can come over if you want."
"Ahhhh, well I kinda live on the other side of town."
"That's okay, I have a bike. I can ride over. Where abouts do you live?"
"Ahhhh, around Main and 34th."
"No problem! That's just around where my welfare office is. I ride up there all the time!"
"Well, I was just thinking of just taking it easy tonight."
"I can pick up some beer and come over if you want."
"Ahhh, I think I just want to take it easy tonight."
"Really? I don't mind riding over there. It's no problem 'cuz that's where my welfare office is and I can bring some beer over and we can hang out!"
"Ahhh, I think I just want to take it easy tonight."
"Yeah...I know how you feel. I've taken it easy before and it's not a bad way to go. I once took it easy for a whole week straight and then I went koo-koo crazy!"
"Can you tell Johnny I called please?"
"Yeah, sure. If you want me to come over, just say so. I know how you feel."
"Okay. Just tell him I called okay?"
"What's your name again?"
"Craig."
"Okay Craig, let's try and get together sometime okay?"
"Sure. That'd be great. Bye."

We Need Clint Eastwood

So Kelly's settling in just fine and I'm starting to see some habits forming. The guys smokes lots of cigarettes and drinks a lot of cheap beer. TNT, Cougar, Wildcat, Lucky. If he feels like splurging he'll drink a Labatt's Blue. His daily routine consisted of: sleeping in until 3ish in the afternoon, going to the corner store for cigarettes, going to the liquor store for beer and then coming home and watching TV in his room until 4 or 5ish in the morning. He'd noodle around on his guitar a bit here and there while watching TV, smoke cigarettes, come out to make something to eat, return to his room.

One day, after coming home from his daily vice-run, Kelly said that he'd like to change the answering machine. As it was, the message on the machine was some non-descript cryptic sound bite from something obscure. Probably funny back then but probably stupid now. I agreed, thinking that perhaps Kelly wanted to personalize it so that people would know that he lived there and that they got the right number. Perhaps perspective employers? I agree and re-record a message "Hey, you've reached Johnny and Kelly, please leave us a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we can. Thanks." Formal, basic and to-the-point. Kelly nodded with approval but there was something bothering him. "That's a good message and all," he says, "but I have one that's a million times better." "Okay, shoot!" as I clear the way to and gesture to the recorder that it's all his.

"Well, we can't just record it just yet! First, do you know anyone who sounds like Clint Eastwood? It's gotta be exactly like Clint or else it won't work." "No. I don't know. Maybe." "It's gotta be exact or it'll be a real bomb...I mean, I'm telling you, it's gotta be absolutely perfect for this to work. Close isn't even good enough! It's gotta be perfect or..." "What is it!??!?!" I interupt knowing that he could go on forever about this detail. "Well first you gotta get a guy who sounds EXACTLY like Clint Eastwood. Then, we gotta get that song from that old western, you know the one with the whistle..." and then he tries to SING, not whistle, but sing/vocalize the whistling melody to the theme to The Good The Bad & The Ugly, "...you know the theme song I'm talking about?" "yeah, the Good the Bad & The Ugly." "Nooo. I don't think that's it. It's like that but it's not quite that..." and then he vocalizes it again, then follows it up with a dry half-productive whistling rendition of it. "Yeah, that's the Good The Bad & The Ugly." "I don't think that's right, but you know the song I'm talking about right, it's a total classic." "Yeah, okay then what?" "So you take that song and it starts off, wee-ooh-wee-oh-waaaaaaaaa, wah-wah-wah, and then, you get the guy who sounds EXACTLY like Clint Eastwood to come up and say like Dirty Harry, 'Go ahead, leave a message.' CLASSIC!!! I'm tellin' ya, when people hear that they'll flip their lids! It's a total classic! But it's gotta be just like Clint or else it doesn't work."

IT BEGINS!!!

So Kelly moves in. At first, his possessions were but a couple of suitcases. The rest of his stuff was to arrive from Montreal via a moving truck. For the first few days, until his stuff arrived, Kelly would have to sleep on the couch in the living room. He really was a nice guy and everything but I immediately knew that he wasn't really the kind of guy whose company I would never fully appreciate and enjoy. The first thing he wanted to talk about was his "kick-ass" television set. He told me that it was the most "state-of-the-art" tv known to mankind and that we really had to make a choice on where it was going to go. He said that it was huge and that if it were to go in the living room, we're going to need to figure out where it goes, move some furniture etc. Awesome! A huge kick-ass television set! This is awesome!

A few days, the moving truck arrived. A futon mattress, some boxes, guitars, an amp, and a HUGE crate. The swampers had a hell of a time lifting this crate out of the truck and when they finally got it out, they opened it and, under Kelly's guidance, they eventually managed to get this monstrosity into the house. It was huge! I tried to figure out where it was going to go, and I started to make room over where my current TV set was. Kelly soon ushered the moving men and TV into his room. Ahh shit. Oh well. It's his TV, and he wants it in his room, no big deal. After he's settled in, he's asking me about cable and where the main line is and wants to tap into it. I tells the guy that we only get basic cable and he starts going on about all the different channels that exist beyond basic cable. He went into detail about every single channel above 13. He says that his TV has picture-in-picture pop-up windows that display what's playing on the different channels so that he doesn't miss any "gold." After about an hour of yammering about channels and how awesome the channels that he chooses are, he disappears and leaves me to my crappy basic cable.

A little while later I hear him leave the apartment and go upstairs (there were two units on the top floor) and knock on the neighbour's door. A moment later I can hear stuff happening upstairs. A window's being opened and then there's a bunch of scraping sounds and banging. My curiosity is piqued and I decide to go upstairs and pay my neighbours a visit. The door is open and my neighbour Irene is standing there watching as Kelly leans half out the window screwing around with some wires. Irene looks at me with a look that says "Is this your roommate?" I give her a "I kinda wish not!" kind of look. A few minutes pass and Kelly pulls himself into the apartment. "There! Now let's go see if we got ourselves some full cable!" Kelly thanks Irene and leaves to go downstairs. I ask Irene if she's got full cable and if Kelly was tapping into it with her permission. She said no but she went over to her TV and turned it on and PRESTO! Irene and Mark now have full cable! I run downstairs and turn on my TV and WHAMO! I've got full cable! Kelly was now in his room screwing around with something and I yell to him that that's awesome! Suddenly the sound of a power drill is whirring in Kelly's room. Grrrrrrnnnngggggggggg, Grrrrrrrrr, Whhmmmmmmmmmmm, Grrrrrrrrruunnngghgh, and then a hole starts to emerge from the wall by the couch. Kelly has drilled a hole about 2 inches in diameter with a boring bit from his room into the living room.

A few moments later Kelly's in the living room drilling a hole through the wall that goes completely outside. He feeds a bunch of wires through it and then goes back upstairs to Irene's. Kelly returns, turns on his TV and BLAMMO! Free cable for all! Holes in the wall, but free cable none-the-less. This Kelly guy's paying off in spades!!!

Kelly Kumbaya

I was out with some friends at a gig one night. They were aware of my situation: I was desperate to find a roommate and the month was closing in fast. My friend Dave came up and said "There's a new guy in town from Montreal that's looking for a place to live but..." and with that he gave me a look that said "...there's just a smaaaaallll problem..."

"But what? What's that look?"
"eeeyeahh..." Dave continued to look at me with a hint of sympathy.
"Is he a good guy?"
"eeeyeahh..."
"Will he pay rent?"
"Oh yeah. He won't stiff you."
"Would he be good with my dog?"
"Yeah. It's just..."
"Just..."
"Well you have to meet him."

I agreed to meet with him. Kelly came to my house and, after showing him around, I suggested that we take my dog for a walk and get to know each other. I lived near the beach and he was fresh off the plane so I thought it would be a good chance to show off the west coast and our proximity to the water. As we walked we small talked. He seemed like a good guy, a bit odd, but a good guy. After walking for about a half-hour, I thought okay, we're both in a bind, but tiny alarm bells were ringing. One of the first things I noticed was that all he did was talk that anything I did or said, he'd have to interrupt me and then trump me. I forgave this kind of rudeness as it was an informal "interview" and I was sizing him up and trying to figure what kind of guy he was. Here's some of those first conversations:

me: "...and I lived in Toronto for about 4 years before..."
kelly: "yeah I lived in Toronto for 8. It was alright but alot of times..."

me: "...then when I started working for the record store I started to meet..."
kelly: "I worked at every record store you can think of. I was the best person in each of those places because I really knew my shit about EVERYTHING..."

me: "...and I'm trying to get into making music videos."
kelly: "Oh yeah, well I've done lots of those."
"Really? Like you directed them? Who?"
"Oh, tons of people in montreal. Voivod. Metal Church. You name it."
"Really? You directed those?"
"Yeah. I did everything. Sound, editing. Camera. Lighting, Pyro. EVERYTHING."

Wow. This last bit of information was kind of impressive I thought.

me: "You'll have to meet some of my friends 'cause we're trying to get into doing..."
kelly: "Yeah, when I get all my stuff set up I'll have to show you my demo reel."
"Yeah! Awesome!"
"Yeah, it's really awesome."

So with that, I considered the situation I was in and told him that if he liked the apartment he could move in. He accepted and I had 3 days of calm before the crazy storm rolled in.

Shine on You Crazy Diamond

So I was searching for a new roommate one day when I suddenly thought, "What about Oona?" She was a friend and we liked each other plutonically and I knew she liked my apartment and we got along well when out with friends so why not ask Oona? I phoned her up and she was ecstatic! She moved in it was all cool. Although Oona and I liked each other, there was one thing about Oona: she was a neo-hippy girl. I'm not really a hippy. I like the fact that they care about the environment and will take a stand on issues and everything but there's a limit to how much hippy I can take. Oona wasn't really really really flakey hippy, she did like some punk but deep inside she was hippy none-the-less.

When I thought about Oona moving in, I didn't have really any objections to any of her lifestyle choices but as soon as I realized how much dope she smoked it got me a little unnerved. Here was Oona's daily itinerary:

Wake up. Smoke a joint.
Get ready for class. Smoke a joint.
Morning break. Smoke a joint
Lunch. Smoke a joint
Afternoon break. Smoke a joint
Walk home from school. Smoke a joint.
Get home. Smoke a joint.
Cook dinner. Smoke a joint.
Try to put out disasterous fire. Smoke a joint.
Listen to music, do homework, watch TV. Smoke a joint.
Go to bed. Smoke a joint.

She was constantly baked. CONSTANTLY.

I don't have anything against pot. What bothered me was the fact that Oona almost burnt down the house 11 times because she'd forget that she was cooking something. We went through so many pans and pots because she would forget they were on the burner. Eventually, she decided to move out and get another place. Fine, I'll just get another roommate.

Roommate Needed:

I was living in a two-bedroom street-level apartment in an old house in Vancouver with a friend I had gone to college with. We had a good time together and got along really well. Our "building manager" who called himself "the Fridge" and he was a grouchy old dude. My roommate and I used to set our speakers at different ends of the apartment up along the wall which separated our apartment from "the fridge's" and put on different stereo sound fx CDs and leave the place. On one day The Fridge would be subjected to hours of plates breaking. The next day there were planes having dog fights. Construction. Cops shooting at robbers. Aliens beeping and booping. Our favourite was the bowling. The ball sounded like it would roll from one end and hit the pins at the other end. But our fun soon came to an end when his girlfriend moved to Vancouver, they decided to get their own place. They helped me look for an ideal roommate that would replace them and we found a guy named Peter. He seemed like a likable guy, and when we first met him, he was wearing an Iggy & The Stooges t-shirt so I thought, that he'd have good taste in music at least. Turns out that Peter turned out to be an alien from another planet. My friends actually called him the alien because he had no idea what or who anything was. He was a really awesome guy, nice and considerate and everything but he just was a bit clueless to pretty much anything.

For example: one day I was flipping through the channels and "Throw Mama From The Train" was on. I'm not a big fan of the movie and I can't stand Billy Crystal but there are some funny moments, so I was just watching it for a bit. Peter came along and asked what was on and I told him. He shrugged his shoulders and said his usual comment "Never heard of it." "Really? Never heard of it?" "Nope." "Billy Crystal..." "Who?" "What? Billy Crystal...never heard of Billy Crystal?" "Nope."

I'm not asking him to be a fan of Billy or anything as I can't stand him myself, but come on! You've got to at least heard of the man! Peter was like this for everything.

"Stir fry? Nope. Never heard of it."
"Bigfoot? Nope. Who's that?"

I could understand this if he was an exchange student but not only was he from Canada, he was a professional writer.

We both differed widely on many subjects and the two of us had very little in common. Eventually his girlfriend moved in and the two of them eventually decided to get their own place. Fine with me.

The two of them left and I was off looking for another roommate.