Right here, Right now
This week saw us hangin' with the cool kids for a few hours.
On Friday night, we went to the fundamentally incorrectly named (and culturally appropriated), "Igloofest".
An "Igloo" [Iglu or ᐃᒡᓗ in Inuit] is a house - often made of ice. Its fundamental purpose is to PROTECT you from the cold.
This event is most definitely OUTSIDE.
Like IN THE COLD.
The VERY, VERY COLD NIGHT.
(It claimed to be -14'C... my still thawing-out chin begs to differ!)
Now, if you want to get me out dancing at the age of 47, use this tactic. (Actually it would have worked when I was 23 as well!) Start it at 7:30pm. I'm not sure if it was part of a cunning and devious marketing ploy to appeal to older and more financially flush demographics, but this start time is tailor-made for budding seniors like me!
Being double the average age of course didn't stop some tall, eighties-styled-onesie-skisuit-ed dude chatting up Lynda. That "Montréal-bounce" dance move of hers, combined with the curly hair, is a combo I personally succumbed to 17 years ago, so I didn't begrudge this guy his "day in the sun". As he was speaking in French I didn't get most of it, (the pounding bass on Stage 2 also didn't help), but the international language of "flirt" is pretty easy to interpret. ;)
Did I mention it was cold? Felt like -20's + with wind chill. And given we were on a jetty in the Old Montreal harbour, there was wind. And there was chill. Plus, we were standing on crushed ice. The organizers did graciously provide scattered smokey fire pits,
around which myself and other poor inappropriately-clad dancers valiantly attempted to warm their frozen feet, while toasting jumbo marshmallows. Mostly, all we achieved were lungs full of cedar smoke, and clothing that smelled more like we had been camping for a week without a shower, than dancing for 3 hours on a frozen dock.
There were also super slides, interactive video games on screens that belonged in a cinema, and of course swag to buy. The pins proclaiming what temperature you survived were also a nice touch! These millennials know how to party!
I bought my requisite super cool Igloofest toque and was looking pretty cool (if frozen) with the pom pom a-bouncing away in the early sets. Dancing also helped my feet not completely freeze. The early DJ's totally catered to us oldies. This Sarah Maclachlan remix:
got me dancing, but also totally outed me age-wise, as I knew all the words. But when Fatboy Slim came on, I must admit I thought, "Hey millennials, get your own damn music! The 90's called and are claiming copyright!"
Still, "right here, right now" did seem an appropriate theme for the evening. Who cared if we were 20 years older than most of them? Certainly not the unicorn in front of me... she was too busy fending off the unwanted attentions of a particularly enthusiastic white-and-black cow-man!
I must admit I was proud of myself for going. Not only was it like, COLD (did I mention that already?!), dancing also isn't really my thing. But this just seemed soooooooo Quebeçoise. Yes, I came home smelling like a bonfire, and sure my big toes took a full 12 hours to thaw out and regain their full functionality. But I did it! Living life full force in the Right Here, Right Now! [Unlike the barista at my favourite coffee shop, who has lived in Montreal her whole life and keeps "meaning to go"! I do think she gave me a look of surprise and grudging admiration, but maybe I imagined it!]
This week also saw a sadder event. The death of ski movie legend Warren Miller. At 92. How the hell did he get to 92? He will always be more like 50 to me, a smiley guy living HIS life exactly as he saw fit.
He personified living not "the" dream, but HIS dream. He had nearly as many hum-dinger quotes as my art teacher Donna (give her time, she's only in her 50's). Unofficial Networks lists the Top 10 Warren Miller quotes. While # 2 rings true with me, (“If at first you don’t succeed, failure may be your thing.”), my fave is # 6: “Don’t take life too seriously, because you can’t come out of it alive.”
Now this might seem like counter-intuitive advice from someone whose blog is all about "Se Pogner le Beigne". However, I like to interpret my "donut poking" as more about stickin' it to the man, and not working in the system designed to grind you small.
So don't sit around and "se pogner le cul" (litterally-grab your ass- do nothing), unless of course this is your bliss, then who am I to argue? For most of us know, even if it scares us a little, we need to get out and dance in the snow. Or go to that art class you weren't sure about. Mostly have a good time, enjoy yourself and your friends.
Hell, eat a donut and dance like you're good at it!
Á la prochaine.