Welcome
Michael Gravel: I'm a writer and web advocate based in Edmonton. Alberta. This here is my website. More about me • More about my work
Events
- The Raving Poets: Heart Beat
- Mar 5, 2008 to May 28, 2008 • The Raving Poets at the Kasbar Lounge. Yianni's Taverna, 10444 - 82 Avenue, Edmonton. Wednesday nights from March 5 until May 28, 2008. Signup at 7:30, show at 8:00. Open mic with music by The Raving Poets Band. Hosted by Michael Gravel. Raving Poets.com for details.
- Michael Gravel: The Fast Places
- May 29, 2008 • Chapbook launch and Red Nettle Press “Spring Harvest!”. The ARTery, 9535 Jasper Avenue, Edmonton, AB. Doors at 7:00, readings at 7:30. Refreshments and work from five or six fantastic writers including myself (my book's called The Fast Places) Jenna Butler, Julie Robinson, and Patti Sinclair. More here, and here's the Facebook page.
- Canadian Authors Association "Can Write" Conference
- July 25, 2008 • I'm presenting in Session 4C, Saturday, July 5, 2008. 1:00pm to 2:30pm. U of A Conference Center, 87 Avenue & 116 Street, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. I'll be presenting a panel discussion with my good pal Thomas Trofimuk. We'll discuss the good and the bad about blogging and writing for the web. Have a look at the Can Write Website for more information.
May 12, 2008
That Guy
Damn thing about sitting in a cafe with liquid coffins and ink fingers is the interruption. If it ain’t the popshit on the stereo then it’s the cracker head at the next table. Looking around the joint – dead. Plenty of empty chairs. A guy should be able to sit in peace and chill the fuck out. The barristas await the formation of a queue but none is forthcoming. The paper cups are rattling and the milk is low. Speaking of dairy, I love half and half in an Americano. Is that wrong? Why do I know what an Americano is? Did they exist 20 years ago (in this city)? What about iced coffee? I don’t remember iced coffee from the old days. Happy Pop yes, but not “Frappuccinos”. In this joint, every time I tee up a tasty black inspired drink I dump at least 5 bucks including tip. I once paid eight bucks for an extra hot latte with all the trimmings. I should have got a pat on the back for that one, and I should’ve ended up in emerg with a caffeine overdose. Avoided. Empty chairs. Quiet.
I can’t remember the last time I sat in here with no distraction. Maybe I never did. There was that one morning, no music, wet rags on the counter, shotgun dead and nobody in sight. My cup made a little ring on the table and I spilled a bit on my leg. The girl at the far table took her glasses off and rubbed her face in pain. At least it looked like pain, could’ve been boredom or confusion. Giving up nothing, I unsleeved my pen and took it to task, rattled off three pages in the notebook. If I had half the jam I’d do it again, tonight, but those days are rare. You gotta pinch them while you can or they’re dust.
I know the place well only because I visit. I see the same fucker every time. Laptop cracked and a tall something in his hand. Poor bastard seems to live here and I don’t blame him, nice digs and all. I used to see him in the morning – long hair dayblitz tuzzle, lozenge cherry smoke – glowing big on the corner of 105th. He’s cut his hair now but he still wears the dilapidated suit jacket and simmering forehead. He’s a fixture character in the minute drama of this place, a guy about whom few know and fewer care. I’ve seen him fall on his ass twice and take a swing at a cycle cop once. About a year ago I tried to talk to him but he crossed the street before I could get a second word on the table. Now he sits with a blue screen on his face, surfing the whatever. Man, what is your story? I’ll buy you a double shot for a tidbit, a salacious crumb from your life. No ask and no bite.
More than once, that guy has made my day simply by existing and walking the street.
May 5, 2008
Monday Randomness
- I’ve been on the Cold War Kids (also on MySpace) for all of eight hours, and I can’t turn the fuckers off. Maybe I’m feeling uncharacteristically kind, but I think Robbers and Cowards is one helluva an album. I’ve played Hang Me Up To Dry five or six times and have actually danced in place to the beat (greatest bassline ever). The last time I did that I was elbow-deep into a keg of pale lager, running down 97th street with my pants around my ankles. It’s that good.
- Have you heard about Edmonton’s Ampersand Bandit? A guy robs a bank and he’s got a giant ampersand emblazoned on the back of his jacket. I hope this guy gets pistol whipped for being a typographical asshole.
- I visited my old pals at the U of A Hospital the other day. The site of much pain, but yet, it somehow felt right to be there. I did the ‘ol stress test, which involved walking/running on an escalating treadmill for fifteen minutes or so. According to the attending nurses I did quite well, all things considered. The ‘ol ticker is almost back to normal. The Mazankowski Heart Institute was opened on the day I was there. I feel very fortunate to live so close to that kind of care facility (literally a ten minute drive from my front door).
- Have you heard? Textism is back. Mr. Allen is quite possibly the best writer on the web. Do yourself a favour and subscribe to his feed.
- Went to see Fugitive Pieces the other night. A moving film about a writer struggling to tell his own story (not as easy as it sounds). Great, great film – especially for writers.
- I got a sunburn on the weekend. How cool is that?
April 29, 2008
Four on Four
Being not quite 40, the boys and I seem to think that we’re still in the ring, so we’re doing something that will prove our past failings were not in vain: We’re playing in the Hockey Night In Canada 4 on 4 street hockey tourney at the end of May. Goalie and three on the court. Never mind that it’s been years since we played anything together, that is, anything more physical than a game of Monopoly. It’s all for shits and giggles anyway, and hell, we’ve even had our first practice, graciously hosted by my friend Scott in Summerview in Sherwood Park. We blasted around the orange hockey ball, put a few dents in his brand new garage door, torqued a ball into the rain gutter, and hit the neighbour’s house a few times. Just like old times.
Sorting The Lumber
I can’t see us making the playoffs, but we’re guaranteed to play three games in any case. Probably the funniest thing about this is the fact that we’re playing in the “legends” division. That’s the over-35 division. The highest-aged division. In sport, one’s career is over before life really begins. After my episode, I most definitely need clearance from my doc, but I should be good to go. My chest scar is nicely turning from a blooming Twizzler to a thin white strip and I’m feeling spry these days. Still, I have to be careful. A serious blow to the plexus wouldn’t be fun. The other guys’ll have to protect me, which is good, ‘cause when the gloves come off I wouldn’t want to be on the bad end of Scott. Been there and got the scars to prove it.
This means I have to spring for some equipment. Haven’t owned a hockey stick since I summarily renounced the sport and took up full time alcoholism back in ’88. Helmet, gloves, shin guards, and the all-important nad cradle will have to be purchased. The wife has a fistful of Crappy Tire money that she has graciously donated to the cause. I even have to break down and buy some running shoes for gawd’s sake. All those sayings like “dropping a load of pucks” and “taping the stick” will take on new, prosaic meanings.
If we win a game, the beer’ll flow and everything will be right in the world. If not, well, we’ll have had a blast duking it out with the seniors in the legends division. May we go down in a hail of slapshots (which aren’t allowed, now that I think of it) and take a few challengers with us. As my old pal Royce Garnet used to say, hoist that cup, or die trying. See you in the emergency room.
April 24, 2008
The Fast Places Chapbook Launch
I‘m usually giving shouts to the work of other people around here, but this time I figure I gotta blow my own trumpet. I’ve got a chapbook coming down the pipe. It’s called “The Fast Places”. It’s being published by the very fine lasses down at Red Nettle Press – editors Patti Sinclair and Trisia Eddy. Twelve poems packaged in a beautiful jacket. Of course, there’s a party to celebrate. It’s not all my party, though. Red Nettle is a new press, and the launch is their “coming alive” clambake, complete with readings from four authors, refreshments, and lots of good ‘ol fashioned tom foolery – the kind that used to be kosher, before Radiohead showed up and ruined everything. Here are the deets:
Red Nettle Press – Launch Party and Champagne Bottle Smashing Ceremony
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The ARTery
9535 Jasper Avenue, Edmonton
Time TBA
Featuring readings and booksellings by Michael Gravel, Jenna Butler, Julie Robinson, and Patti Sinclair.
Book prices TBA
I’m pretty pumped about this. It’s always good to get work in print, and it’s something that I haven’t devoted enough time to as of late. I think it’s pretty damn awesome to stage a launch of several authors at once. It’s a brilliant stroke, because everyone brings their friends and one’s work gets exposed to a new audience. It’ll be great to jam with some fellow writers. Mark it on your calendar. Come down and buy a book or two. Come on man, support the poet.
April 18, 2008
Out Here In The Fields
I‘ve long dreamed of putting together a rock and roll club night. The idea of the night would be pretty simple: Stage it in a downtown nightclub. Everyone gets wasted and flops around and sings along together to rock anthems. The obvious ones. The biggies – not the ones you name check to make yourself sound cool or indie. There would be a web page and posters. The set list would be published ahead of time so that everybody knew the dope, and knew when to get really stupid. You show up, you buy beer, you scream along to Baba O’Reily whilst in the arms of your countrymen and then you go home and make sweet love to your wife or significant other.
Of course, the set list would be a source of contention. 80 songs, and there would have to be room for requests. Here are twenty of my must haves, in rough order:
- Rock and Roll – Led Zeppelin
- Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve
- We Will Rock You/We Are The Champions – Queen
- American Pie – Don McLean
- Blitzkreig Bop – Ramones
- I Fought The Law – The Clash
- Highway To Hell – AC/DC
- Runnin’ With The Devil – Van Halen
- Sister Christian – Night Ranger
- Intervention – Arcade Fire
- Cum On Feel The Noize – Slade (or Quiet Riot)
- Rock N Roll All Nite – KISS
- Cowboy Song – Thin Lizzy
- Rockin’ In The Free World – Neil Young
- Thunder Road – Bruce Springsteen
- Like A Rolling Stone – Bob Dylan
- Baba O’Reily – The Who
- Where the Streets Have No Name – U2
- Hey Jude – The Beatles
And to end the night…
- Tom Traubert’s Blues – Tom Waits
There are many more, and 80 songs doesn’t really cover it, but that would be the beauty of such a night. There is only so much room on the list, and one must search one’s soul for the songs that truly matter. I don’t know if such a night would really appeal to anyone, and hell, maybe this happens every weekend on Whyte Avenue (haven’t been to a bar on Saturday night in years). But I don’t think so. It would be about coming together and screaming the words we all know and love.
Of course the real question is which songs would YOU have on your list? I’m telling you right now, if anyone mentions any song by Justin Timberlake, even in jest, I’m banning your ass from this site.