breakfast: a bowl of berries, granola, and fat-free yogurt. water. coffee.
activity: went for a couple of little bike rides throughout the day. 50 push-ups. 50 crunches/leg-raises. ouch. i am feeling it in the my chest and stomach today. which is good. it's a constant reminder all day of what i'm focused on here. i find that sometimes, in the past, when i try to do things, often i don't intentionally fall off the wagon, often i simply forget what i'm doing. this muscle pain is a reminder. much-needed.
dinner: european blend salad, some cottage cheese, carrots, cucumber, trail mix...
and a couple of meet kabobs, from the local meat shop.
lots of water throughout the day, and a couple more meat kabobs for a snack...
overall, not a bad day. decent food. excercise. the scale stayed the same, but shit, what do i expect, everything to change in one day? nope. slow and steady. that is the only way. i am committed. it surprises me how easy it is to not drink when i just DECIDE not to. the last few times i've taken a stab at this i simply didn't believe myself when i said i would do it. this time, i know it's true. it's serious. i WILL do this. today is the start of day three, and for breakfast this morning, water, coffee, and a bowl of fruit...
okay, so, after a couple of false starts, i stepped on the scale yesterday morning and came face-to-face with the number "199." scared shitless (i swore to myself years ago i would NEVER, EVER, EVER, cross that line again), i immediately went for a half-hour run, then walked on the beach for half an hour, then went for a bike ride, then came to work. here's what i consumed yesterday:
a few coffees.
dinner: a grilled chicken breast on top of salad, with carrots, a bit of cottage cheese, and trail mix.
later, during work, i snacked on two hard-boiled eggs, and a couple of handfuls of peanuts, plus three pints of water throughout my shift, and a soda water at the end of my night.
not a bad start. i'm committed. i'm scared. and i'm angry at myself for letting it get to this point again. stupid addictive personality be damned...
so, i started off the day right. for breakfast, at the artsee cafe, a little salad with chicken, water, and coffee. i did a bit of biking around during the day (nothing major, just around town), and then for dinner, at home, a little salad with carrots and some sausage. (yeah, i know...) and then... well, shit, i got to work, and there's a stella promotion happening, this whole "learn how to pour the perfect pint of stella" thing with a few birds in stella shirts doing the honours. i was djing and next thing i know one of them hands me a pint of stella, and shit, i know i'm trying not to drink anything right now, but damn...
today will be better.
on a side note, racism, homophobia, and anti-semitism are alive and well. i find it so strange how you can be talking to somebody and they can just out and say some completely ignorant shit to you as if it is completely normal. i just don't get it. likek they just expect that you're going to feel the same way or not be offended by them. it's surreal...
it's happened before. and it's happened again. and again, i am doing something about it. a lifestyle fueled by the love of pints and cheeseburgers has left me, once more, in a situation where i wake up one morning and find myself about twenty pounds heavier than i'd like to be, moving a little slower than i'd like to be, and feeling my t-shirts and pants hugging a little bit tighter than i'd like them to be. so, as i have in the past, i've decided to do something about it. it is not unfamiliar territory. i have always been a bit of a yo-yo, moving up and down in a range of about 30 pounds, and i have always been able to pack it on or pull it off relatively quickly, sometimes see-sawing up and down twice in one year. (this will, i believe, come in handy if i'm ever cast in one of those "raging bull" or "the machinist" type of roles - one can dream...)
back in 2002, when i was sitting in my cubicle at universal, i packed on a whopping 30 pounds in one year. food court lunches with ted and click, the in-house cafe, and countless nights out drinking countless beers with porter all added up to the balloon popping at around 205 lbs., when i finally woke up one day and said "enough." in an instant, i changed my whole lifestyle...
-no more alcohol (alas poor heineken...) -no more sweets (i will miss you butter tarts...) -no more bread, potatoes, pasta, rice (you try going a month without eating a sandwich, let alone one day...) -no dairy (the only exception i will make here, is a splash of skim milk in my coffee, as i just can't drink it black...) -excercise for at least an hour or two a day (this includes walking). -do push-ups and sit-ups/crunches every day, so that my muscles are constantly burning, a continuous reminder not to fall off... (i've documented this before, in this dear old blog of mine, i'll throw in a link here if i can find the old post, but i doubt it...)
it worked. i lost 40 lbs. in just a few months. i went from being a fat guy to having a woman from elite models hand me her business card in a line-up at a coffee shop. that felt good. i had done it. it had worked. i swore to myself that i would never let myself get fat again...
i got fat again two years ago. once more, lifestyle. working at a bar, jamming with my band on my off nights. drinking a 12-pack of heineken like most people drink a glass of water. this time i decided to try the heartbreak diet. well, i didn't decide to try it, life decided for me, but thank god, as it really worked. this one is simple, you simply have to find a girl that you're completely in love with, and have her break your heart to the point where you can't sleep or eat or drink for a couple of weeks. basically, you have to get yourself to a place where the very thought of swallowing food makes you want to vomit. you must survive only on water, coffee, and cigarettes, and, if she fucked you up bad enough to keep you on this diet for two weeks, you will lose about 15 lbs. it worked, but i don't ever want to try that one again.
two days ago, after feeling a little, uh, big for a little while, i pulled out my scale and stepped on it. i feel good in the range between 165-175 lbs., and the numbers spun up to 196. yikes. it's time, ryan. no more fucking around, no more "i'll start tomorrow..." i can do it. i've done it before. it's not easy, but it's also not nearly as difficult as it seems in the beginning.
i'm going to share this experience with you. i have talked to a few of my other friends who either have gone, or are going through similar experiences.
i'm going to start with day one, which was yesterday:
first meal of the day, breakfast. i went to the artsee cafe, here in bayfield, my daily morning spot. (excelling staff, and great food.) i ordered the small breakfast (two eggs any style, toast and fruit) - hold the toast. i also ate a banana and have a coffee. i then went for a 24 km. bike ride, which took about two hours (with a couple of stops, and a few large hills that i had to walk up with my bike).
i cycled the 8 km. to varna, which was a little bit scary. biking on the highway for my first time was an experience - the wide open fields and gusty winds coupled with constantly having to check behind me for oncoming trucks and ducking over onto the gravel shoulder...
varna is basically one intersection. on once corner, a pet food store. on the other corner - in this photo - the general store. i went in to see if they had anything to eat. in the back of the store was a lunch counter, with three older folks (a gentleman and two ladies) chatting with each other and the lady behind the counter. on one of the women's recommendation, i ordered a soup to go, and exchanged a bit of conversation with the gang. when i told them i was out on my bicycle, the gentleman, ralph, told me a few tales of biking around between here, bayfield, and grand bend in his youth. on a one-speed. uphill both ways. no, i'm kidding, but we did laugh about how it was downhill from varna to bayfield, but uphill on the way back - the way i just came. "tell me about it," i said, sweating through my t-shirt despite the cold day. when the soup was ready, i realized i didn't have any cash on me, and pulled out my bank card. "no debit, sorry." is there an atm in town? "nope." shit. sorry. fuck, what do i do? "i'll take care of it for him," said one of the ladies, "i've been treated before, so i'll treat." you are too kind, thank you. i told them all to pop by the black dog if they found themselves in bayfield. and then i was off for a ride through the country...
i was hoping to find a nice spot to stop and eat my soup, but it was way too cold outside, and i hadn't brought a sweater, so i had to keep moving...
and for dinner, back at the pub, a small village salad with chicken, easy on the feta.
later on, i hooked up with this cat adam, and we jammed out for a bit, laying down the beginnings of two new songs in about three hours. him on his acoustic, both of us freestyling lyrics and chorus ideas, recording it on the computer. good times. at the end of the night i broke down and drank a beer, which led to another one. i almost didn't tell you about it, but i decided that i am going to be completely honest about this whole process, the victory and defeat, the bitter with the sweet. shit, since i'm being honest, when i got home, after two beers, i was hungry, and i ate two sausages. shit. yup. i fucked up. day one, here's the tally...
excercise: -two hour bike ride (yes!) -i forgot to do my push-ups and crunches (arrgh!)
i'm not going to be too hard on myself, for day one, it was not a bad start, but i am a little disappointed in how i ended the night. old habits, right? i'll let you know how i do on day two. i can do better.
part of a long, vivid, brightly-coloured dream - the only part i remember is that at one point i was play-fighting with a polar bear, the same way i'd be playing with a dog... petting it, scratching behind it's ears, rubbing it's belly while it rolled around on the ground at my feet... the whole time, thinking to myself: "this is a POLAR BEAR..."
this cat is in the bar a few days ago. during the afternoon. slow day. cold outside. it's just him and me, drinking coffee on either sides of the bar. "hey, do you know anybody who might need a bicycle?," he asks me, "i've got one i'm looking to get rid of..." hmmm. "maybe," i say, "i've actually been thinking of getting a bike since i moved here...." what kind is it? "it's one of those cruisers, you know, a schwinn, blue and cream, with the white on the tires and all that..."
the next day i was at his house. this is my new bike. the perfect vehicle for the summer in beachville. got the basket and everything. fenders. took it into the local bike shop (and when i say local, i mean across the street from my bedroom window, this is a small town after all) for a little tune-up. got it back today.
hand'solo records has just put out a mixtape called 'hokey religions & ancient weapons.' you can download it here. apparently, it's a mix of previously released songs, new verses over instrumentals from old releases, and new exclusives. i haven't heard it yet, but the tracklist is below...
01. Fritz Intro / Secret Fuckin’ Song - Buck 65 feat Stinkin’ Rich 02. Rhyming Into a 4 Track (dub) - Epic and Touch 03. Best in Show - Wordburglar 04. Be Natural - Tachichi 05. Falcon Millenium Ninja - Suika 06. Join Us Or Die - Bucket of Gold Teeth 07. Tour de Gallows - Jesee Dangerously and Modulok 08. Life 2 Wild - Royce Birth and Royal T 09. Just Let It Happen - Ira Lee, Wordburglar and Knowself 10. Live to DAT - Sixtoo 11. None Missing (Dirty Sample Remix) - Birdapres 12. Ah Hemsky - Epic 13. Bury the Bodies - Fritz the Cat, Mindbender and Vangel 14. Talk 2 the Hand (Solo) - More or Les 15. The Ripped Thong Song - Mackenzie, Lexington and Fortunato 16. Keep the Channel Locked - Big Ref, Myf and Noah 23 17. Heads Up - Tachichi feat. CasUno, Esh, Xczircles, Dis4bled and Megalynk 3 18. The Ark - Moka Only 19. The WBmix - Wordburglar 20. Many Many - Eternia
new video from n*e*r*d. i dig the song. but then again, i knew i would before i heard it, based on how much i love their first two albums. still, i have a bit of a problem with this current paparazzi polaroid-scene coked-out cobrasnake trend...
i guess this is the perfect bridge between the tuned-up and tight-panted hipster moron set and the snow-blowing clipse-inspired tony-montana wannabe rap idiots. clever lyrics, but still, do we really need to be making this shit seem cool?
i still haven't plugged in my clock. it's buried in my room somewhere. under a pile of clothes, or papers, or art supplies. you look for one thing, you dump out a box to find it, and before you know it everything is everywhere. unpacking. bit by bit. i sleep well here. with the window open. bundled up, it's still pretty cold at night. fresh air. wind. koochie socks, pajama pants, a hoody, and a big comforter. i'm having the most vivid dreams each night. the coffee shop is finally open every day. no more wandering around trying to figure out where to get my hit each morning.
i went for a run on the beach yesterday. i hadn't ran for that long in a while. i didn't get tired nearly as quick as i usually do. it was raining. the sky was all cloud. cold. not another soul in sight.
"even when the skies were grey / you would rub me on my back and say baby it'll be okay..."
i've been in bayfield a little over a week now. we've been blessed with wonderful weather. warm, sunny, very little rain. another two weeks or so before we move into the apartment above the bar, so for now, i'm still on pete and andrew's couch. not that i really mind. i'm already enjoying what looks to be a great summer. the restaurant is great. quality menu, excellent beer selection, good wines and an extensive scotch list. they know their shit. pete and andrew are opening up a little storefront on the boardwalk. records, t-shirts, hats, etc. i'm setting up my recording gear in there today. it'll be nice to have a place to work that's not my bedroom. i skated down to the beach last night to watch the sunset. it was perfect. calm, crystal waters. so many colours. blue, purple, yellow, pink, orange, red. okay, i'm off for a run...
Earlier this week the Canadian Press reported that out of 43 musicians who received federal grants last year, only four were hip-hop artists. Is the system stacked against them? We asked a veteran rapper to share some wisdom.
Often described as music that dominates Canadian record sales and radio play, rap is a huge money-making genre ... for major music labels whose parent companies are based in the United States. For people trying to make music here, it's a different story. Being a Canadian rapper means never having to say you're rich.
But I don't speak from a place of bitterness (much); it's just reality. Under the name More Or Les, I've been a professional emcee since 1992 (the first time someone put cash in my hand for rhyming "material" with "cereal" in front of strangers), turning an afterschool activity into something that almost pays decently.
It's a challenge most Canadian artists face. With a smaller population than the U.S., a lack of infrastructure for urban music development and very few independent or major labels offering (or able to offer) monetary advances for music and video creation, the Canadian rapper must get crafty and create promotional, performance and financial opportunities for himself.
And crafty I have been; hip-hop creators often insist that the core of their culture is to do things differently from what mainstream society expects. I've performed at the World Cycling Championships, Second City, the Direct Energy Centre at Exhibition Place and the North York Central Library as a part of well-attended, decent-paying shows where you would typically not expect to find a rapper.
Add to that being the only rapper on the zine-writers' Perpetual Motion Roadshow tour, and taking it upon myself to busk (read: me, mic, iPod, speaker, cash box, CDs, rapping) on the Queen St. W. sidewalk, and you have someone who has learned to find opportunities.
Enter: grants and loans. Offered by provincial, federal and private organizations, grant and loan programs differ almost as much as the music. You can find programs to cover costs for video-making, recording, production, touring and product duplication (CDs and vinyl), as well as items some rappers overlook, like marketing, promotions, travel to and attendance of music conferences, and writing. Imagine someone paying you to write lyrics! To some folks, that's getting paid before "getting paid."
Grant and loan bodies available to Toronto rappers include FACTOR (which assists on recording and video expenses) and its visual equivalent VideoFACT; the Ontario Arts Council; PromoFACT; and the Toronto Arts Council. They all have websites, occasionally have information seminars, and some even have staff available on the phone to answer any questions.
But I would not call this "free money." Even though I have received funding through the Ontario Arts Council, Toronto Arts Council and recently from FACTOR, it did not come easily.
It took me a while to discover, understand and apply for funding – several times. And there is work involved; it's more than just filling out a form. I've seen artists scoff at that, thinking they should be able to submit their music and get a cheque. But all of these organizations have criteria that must be met; all the Is must be dotted, all the Ts crossed; and most importantly, your project must be creative, professional and logical, regardless of genre. And this detail can work to an artist's advantage in other ways: you might get your work seen and/or heard by organizations not interested in funding rap specifically if you present it in a way that fits their criteria.
Just like artists, the people working in these organizations want to be proud of the product they're giving money to. In talking to members of some of the above-mentioned organizations, I have found them genuinely interested in the music they fund. As they should be: successful projects enable them to get more funding from their sources to give to you. So use the money for what you outline in your application as best you can – buying beers with your grant money hurts more than your liver.
What should be a bigger concern is that rappers are perhaps not aware these opportunities exist.
There's no guarantee that telling people to do their research and ask questions will generate results (especially since they become my competition if they succeed), but artists need to do just that to see what's available to them.
And if grant and loan bodies can reach out to the community more (for example, FACTOR has a monthly open mic and info session), they stand to increase their presence on the urban music landscape, perhaps get more high-quality clients and help to build the "hip hop community" often spoken about but hard to quantify in this country.
check out this pre-juno's article in yesterday's free press about shad (thanks for the shout dude) by james reaney. last weekend i presented the urban category at the jack richardson awards - shad won - but he wasn't able to attend. just found out today that ottawa's belly took the rap juno, but still, cool article on shad, and shit, it's an honour to be nominated, right? london is proud...
this documentary is being screened tonight in toronto. i was hoping to make it up for it, but shit, i'm knee deep in boxes right now, packing up my life (again), getting ready to move all my shit into my mom's basement, so i can, once again, live out of a backpack for the next six or eight months. i wish i could have made it up for this. i'll be the first in line to buy it on dvd when (if?) it comes out.
for myself, the whole good life/project blowed/l.a. underground movement of the early 90s pretty much defined my future involvement in hip-hop. i know it's the same for my circle of friends. and i know it's the same for the little pockets of people in every city who were the mirror reflection of my group. everywhere, we were inspired by the likes of the freestyle fellowship, the pharcyde, abstract rude, medusa, volume 10, cve, jurassic 5, dark leaf, and the list goes on and on...
back in those days, when sheena lester (props!) was running things at rappages magazine, and j-smoov had his b-boy kingdom column, every month we would read about these emcees, and try like to hell to find their tapes. i remember hooking up with smoov at one point, and becoming his canadian rep for the b-boy kingdom (this was back when i was publishing my little rap magazine) - ordering tapes from him to sell at local stores - and feeling honoured to be a part of it. later on, through my magazine work, and promoting shows, i ended up meeting and working with a lot of these cats that i used to look up to. some of 'em even became friends to this day. and at one point, on a trip to l.a., i even got to back up my man mindbender while he performed on stage at project blowed. shit, that was crazy. it's a trip to think about. back then, when i was 15 or 16, we straight worshipped these cats, and there we were chilling in leimert park with the crew. they inspired us to freestyle like it was going to the gym. every day, for hours and hours after school. i remember this one apartment i lived in where we had my man ben's turntables set up in the basement, and sometimes there were would be a dozen emcees in there, for hours, until the place got so hot and sweaty and that we all had to get outside for some fresh air, exhausted, exhilarated...
there was a unity in the movement, too. this relatively small group of people in l.a. gave rise to reflective little scenes in every other city you can imagine. in other countries. around the world. the impact can still be felt today. it is truly global. and like mikah 9 says in the trailer, they had no idea they were making history...
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