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LEAFERS DROP TROU IN EDMONTON
Seven-point-three cents doesn't seem like a lot of money, but it's the principal of the thing. Just another example of the "no sweat, you're in Canada" attitude we witness every time we visit. It's hard to put my finger on, but I can feel the difference when I'm in a conversation with a Canadian, especially having lived in frantic, high-speed Southern California for many years. In Canada, not only do people stop whatever they are doing to speak with you, but they're not constantly looking over your shoulder for someone better to talk to. And they don't text on their bloody cell phones while they're eating dinner. The fact is, they act like actual human beings?with all the appropriate courtesies. When we landed in Vancouver from Portland, the customs officer not only had a cool French accent, he referred to my wife, Mary, as "madame," and gave a little bow when we completed our screening. It's admittedly an exaggeration, but in some other places I've visited, the same customs man would be tugging with all his might to keep his snarling Doberman off my pant leg. Courtesy counts, and, in that regard, Canada gets the prize. Steve Peace, his wife, Lindsay, and the LeBlanc brothers were, once again, our hosts for the Alberta Bound Tattoo & Arts Festival. Producing some of my favorite tattoo events for nearly a decade?one year they'll be in Calgary and the next in Edmonton?this time, Calgary was held on the weekend of August 14-16 and in Edmonton the next. Considering the economy and the overabundance of tattoo conventions nowadays, this could have been a double-barreled mistake. After all, Edmonton and Calgary are only three hours apart. Seems to me they'd be courting the same audience and, after the first weekend, everyone would be tattooed out. Wrong. Although Peace admits to learning things the hard way, he's run two of the most successful, artist-friendly shows in either Canada or the U.S., and doesn't make too many mistakes. In fact, I remember the first time I met him, it was at his first Edmonton show and instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off, he was calmly sitting in a booth being tattooed by Steve Moore. I remember that Peace's laptop was stolen at that event, the laptop with all his convention data, the bookkeeping, the posters, everything. And even with that, he remained in control and didn't let his emotions take command. Because of it, he established himself and his conventions as the gold standard of the industry. Hey, not only does he provide a full list of supplies (towels, gloves, tubes, needles) for each and every artist in attendance, he even gives them free ink from three different suppliers, so the artist won't have to hassle packing a lot of half-empty, leaking bottles in their luggage. The Shaw Conference Center was, once again, the ideal site for an event. Looking out over the beautiful North Saskatchewan River, the huge glass and steel structure is stacked on the side of a cliff overlooking the Louise McKinney Riverfront Park, home of the annual Dragon Boat Races, which was happening the same weekend. Hundreds of people lined the river as teams of twenty paddlers, a drummer and a helmsman navigated the four hundred meter course to the tune of '50s bobbysox music. The highlight, of course, was the courageous breast cancer survivor team and their strong showing in an emotion-filled paddle to the finish.
I'm not as familiar with the Canadian tattoo scene as I am with the one in the U.S., so I really didn't know a lot of people. That's why it was a pleasure to bump into and chat with Cory Ferguson, Derek Dufresne, Nick Chaboya and several members of the Sailor Jerry Swallow Contingent, although Jerry wasn't there. I admit I also missed seeing Paul Jeffires, Dave Shore, the Dutchman, Jamie Izumi and Vice Hemingson, all stalwart representatives of the Canadian and World tattoo scene. There was only one tattoo competition on Friday and Saturday, Tattoo of the Day. A unique move, as most tattoo events fill all three days with judging and handing out trophies. Peace, on the other hand, held the majority of the competitions on Sunday afternoon. A brilliant move, in my estimation. Sundays always need more energy and a bigger audience. Scheduling the contests on that special day makes perfect sense. There was a raft of categories, from small, medium and large color to the same sizes in black and gray, to portraits, backpieces and sleeve competitions. All this was held on the large stage area adjacent to the cordoned-off and heavily populated beer garden. The rest of the time?Friday and Saturday?the stage was home to the outrageous and talented King of the Buskers, none other than the Guinness Book of Records "World's Most Tattooed Man" and unicyclist/juggler par excellence, Mr. Lucky Diamond Rich. Its always good to see Lucky with every inch of his body covered in black and bright orange tufts of hair, Bozo-style, protruding from the sides of his head. Not to mention, every tooth (except the middle one, which was punched out) is encased in silver. Yes, its an eye opener to watch this truly unique entertainer gather a crowd and deliver a hilarious hour of sword swallowing, extemporaneous banter, cheerleading and daredevil machete jugging. The machete trick, by the way, was presented atop a fifteen-foot unicycle and included an apple, which Lucky took bites out of as he juggled. The finale involved tossing the empty core under his leg and up into his gleaming mouth. Just minutes before, he unbelievably juggled seven rubber balls at one time. Although he says he is relatively talent-less and is gifted primarily in gathering a crowd, the guy is charisma incarnate and not to be missed. The design of the show was immaculate. I mentioned the beer garden, but there was plenty to do for all ages. The first five hundred kids through the door, for example, got a free coloring book. And there were henna tattoos and face painting. Plus, woven in and out of the aisles was a pretty cool hotrod and motorcycle show with some very tricked-out custom bikes and '50s four-wheel cruisers. And a big plus, of course, was the sound system. You could hear all the special announcements clear as a bell, and the background music was kept at a level that allowed people to talk to one another without shouting. It was a perfect environment for creativity. And there were lots of places to sit down, a cafeteria-style hotdog and sandwich stand in the lobby and, of course, just outside, the clean, clear Canadian air. I loved the escalators. Two of them, big long ones, transported us down the mountainside, from the sidewalk to the convention floor. At the bottom was the ticket booth and a roomy foyer where the staff in red T-shirts welcomed the crowd. Beyond that was the enormous, high-ceilinged lobby and the doors to the main hall. To the left, about four aisles down, was a black curtain. Beyond that and up the stairs was our photo studio. Clearly the best one we have ever used (most are simply small conference rooms with air conditioners that don't work). This one had big, puffy couches, a coffee machine, fresh, cold drinking water, two toilets, a dressing room with mirror and a shower. We had clearly died and gone to tattoo photographers' heaven. The young women at this show were quite lovely. For some reason, pretty girls and Canada seem to go together. Maybe it's something in the water, but when we began recruiting models for the photo shoot, seven out of ten were cover prospects. Lately, at U.S. shows, Bernard would photograph ten girls and have to shoot another ten to find one possible cover girl. The days of scanty outfits that reveal a lot of ink are kind of passé, but, at least in Canada, the girls weren't walking around in hoodies like they do across the border. A cover girl is hard to find. It's not just a pretty face that makes the cut, by the way. And it's not just the tattoo work. It's a combination, along with the clothing, the enthusiasm and the ability to look happy about having your photo taken for a magazine with four hundred thousand readers. In Edmonton, several young ladies fit the bill.
We stayed at the Westin. A three block walk to the conference center, we had a couple of breakfast in the lobby restaurant and they were excellent. The buffet was fresh and had everything from bagels and lox to hand-made omelets, seasonal fruit, baby quiche, sautéed mushrooms, scrambled eggs, bacon, French toast and two kinds of sausage. The room service bison burger capped with crispy bacon was killer. And the beds, let me tell you about the beds?. You get the idea. Very comfortable, very elegant, very professional. The Westin stands among a forest of skyscrapers, but there are a couple of cool places to eat just across the street. One is Japanese Village and the other is a pub named after Sherlock Holmes. The Japanese place had one other couple, the pub was wall to wall beer drinkers. Actually, to be fair, they had great pub grub (shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, sweet potato fries, hamburgers) and a wide array of suds on tap. As crowded as it was (every table will replete with pretty girls and older guys, who should have been home with their wives), the service was fast and efficient. Perfect for grabbing a quick bite before getting inked back at the festival. So, what's the deal about the words "drop trou" in the title of this article? It's all about Lindsay, Steve's text-talking wife?you know, the one who captained the six-person Bitches dodge ball team (winner of five out of six matches) featuring Tyson McAdoo. Anyway, cool Lindsay was up with us in the photo room, when she mentioned that her friend Cam had some fabulous Steve Peace tattoos on his legs. Bernard was finishing up shooting a model and he asked Lindsay if she had someone else for him to shoot. This was exactly what she was waiting for. She nodded, told Bernard, "I'm on it," and dialed her cell phone. It rang, she waited for an answer, got it and said, "It's me. Time to drop trou." Five minutes later, Cam was posed in front of Bernard's camera. He wore a short-sleeved polo shirt and a pair of slacks. But not for long. After all, like so many models before him, we'd never be able to photograph as many great tattoos as we do if people didn't…drop trou. |
