A day off in Bristol. I finally left the hotel at about 3:30, just as the schools were getting out. Not having any plan, or idea of where to go, I followed a long line of students who walked like they owned the place. There was no hesitation in the way they walked. They’ve probably taken this route hundreds of times. This contrasted with my complete lack of conviction, looking twelve different ways before crossing the street, stopping and starting, searching for the most interesting place to go. When I fell into their ranks, it took some of the clumsiness out of my first couple blocks. I almost felt like a local. But who was I kidding. I’m a tourist, and not proud of it, so I split off in the direction of the waterfront. There were long house boats docked along the canal. One had pictures of Donald Duck on the hull. I found a pedestrian path through some buildings, and came across a huge deserted church that was built on a hill. The doors were boarded up and windows were broken. There was a sign that said it was going to be renovated for living space. With its ancient stone walls and tall windows, I could imagine it to be an amazing place to live in. The trick would be to find a way to live so close to God. Hopefully he would be a willing roommate. I found a tall tower in a small park. It turned out to be Queen Victoria’s dedication to John Cabot’s discovery of North America in 1497. I was surprised to see that it was open, so in the name of exploration I climbed the spiral stairs to the top. No one else was around. I couldn’t tell if it was too late in the day, or too cold and windy, or if it was going to close soon. The cracked cement on the balconies made my knees shake. The view was beautiful, but I couldn’t help thinking that the tower would pick that exact moment to crumble to the ground. I would make a very lonely and paranoid King. It really is lonely at the top. I read the some of the graffiti on the inside of the cement walls. Some of it seemed to keep in the spirit of conquest, but in a more sexual way. Maybe the last King wrote that. Either way, John Cabot would be proud.

Alleyways suck me in like vacuum cleaners. I can’t resist walking down them, and seeing where they’ll take me. Cambridge is alley heaven. I managed to go for a stroll just outside the Corn Exchange (Thank you Corn Exchange) before sound check yesterday, and followed a cyclist into an opening in the buildings to the left. The brick road was worn and held together by cool green moss. I wonder if the Masons who built the university knew how much time would contribute to their work. The millions of footsteps that would wear the stones down and shape them like a river carves itself into the sides of cliffs. In Canada, our cities haven’t been exposed to the years of use that cities here have. A plaque on the wall to the left read: Here in 1897 At the old Cavendish Laboratory J.J. Thomson discovered the electron Subsequently recognized As the first fundamental Particle of physics And the basis of chemical bonding Electronics and Computing I silently thanked J.J. for helping to make our show tonight possible.

I’ve always been intimidated by the Tube in London. If you make one mistake, your bound to go on a long unexpected journey to the other side of who knows where. But I love the challenge, and I try to limit the amount of times I look at my map. I don’t want to look like too much of a tourist. I just want to blend in, and have that “Life is Pain” look on my face too. I’m a sucker for that look. When someone shows their pain on the outside, I’m drawn in. It let’s me know that they’re real, but in London I see that face everywhere, and I get incredibly Melancholy. It’s like being suspended between Happy and Sad. The starkness of the Tube, or the Diesel curvy streets seems to hold me there. At Kensington High Street Station yesterday, the Melancholy scale was tipped up to the happier side when the smell of homemade chicken soup wafted down the side of the tracks. It softened the hardness of the cold tiled walls. When the train came I couldn’t believe the amount of people that were on the train, and they weren’t getting off. “You mean we have to fit in there”. We all crammed in, and if it wasn’t for the Chicken soup smell, I’m not sure we would have been able to work so well together. I almost felt confident enough to make small talk with the gal who’s face was 2 inches from mine, but if I said something that didn’t quite come out right, I wouldn’t of been able to look the other way. There was no escape. So I tried to interest myself in the adds on the wall. I should have risked the small talk.

In 1977, my mom had started a little recycling depot for Glass and Tin in my neighborhood. On weekends my brothers and I would put on goggles and smash bottles into big metal bins. It was a dream come true. Smashing anything was satisfying then, but smashing something while my mom looked on approvingly was the ultimate. My mothers dream was to someday have curbside pick-up in Scarborough. Eventually the city started it's own curb side pick up. I didn’t think it would ever happened. Now Toronto even has a curbside compost pickup, which I’d like to think was inspired by my grade 3 science project about compost. I took photos of food going moldy and fuzzy until they eventually turned into earth. I guess every bit helps. Speaking of every bit helps, I’d like to send out a special thanks to the volunteers that have helped sell the CO2 offset stickers, and the Fans that have bought them. The proceeds of these stickers have been going to renewable energy projects that will help offset the CO2 emissions from the car travel to and from the shows. Here are the totals from each show. The “lbs” are the pounds of CO2 that have been offset: 81 Stickers = 24,300 lbs - Manchester, NH 68 Stickers = 20,400 lbs - Amherst, MA 66 Stickers = 19,800 lbs - Rochester, NY 102 Stickers = 30,600 lbs - Detroit, MI 97 Stickers = 29,100 lbs - Cleveland, OH 86 Stickers = 25,800 - Columbus, OH 107 stickers = 32,100 lbs - Boston 123 stickers = 36,900 lbs - Philadelphia 175 stickers = 52,500 lbs –Washington, D.C, 137 stickers = 41,100 lbs - NYC - 2 nights 30 tickets = 9,000 lbs - Orlando (couldn't sell stickers here but sold raffle tickets for a signed cd instead) 79 stickers = 23,700 lbs - Atlanta 47 stickers = 14,100 lbs Austin 65 stickers = 19,500 lbs- Ft Worth 37 stickers = 11,100 lbs- Omaha 80 stickers = 24,000 lbs- Chicago 99 stickers = 29,700 lbs- Cincinnati It seems that not every venue has a recycling program (Something that we hope will change in the Industry), so sometimes we’ve had to hold on to our plastic bottles. Yesterday in Cincinnati, two of our volunteers (Andrew and Emily) came to the rescue, and packed their car full of plastic bottles from our tour. Thanks for coming through you guys. I told my mom about the recycling that we’re doing on tout, and how proud I was of it. She congratulated me, and then said, “Recycling is Good, but Reduction is Better.” I hear you Mom. One step at a time. I guess this is our little community-recycling depot.