This is a blog about our life in Fort McMurray and many of the things I'm passionate about: family, fishing, social media, community leadership, and a multitude of other topics that rise to the top in the wee hours of the morning when I do most of my writing.
The little black dot emerged from the canvas of green that lines the other side of the Clearwater River, opposite our perch just to the right of the river's confluence with the Snye - the 300-yard stretch of now stagnant water that resides between the lower townsite and MacDonald Island in downtown Fort McMurray. The little dot became more of a smudge which rose up on its legs to become a sizable black animal.
"Look at the bear," shouted an angler, one of about 8 who were stacked up along the small stretch of land on the north end of a spit of sand that is one of the most popular spots in town for sitting in your car and visiting, thinking and other things.
This is where many of us put our pickerel rigs and minnows in the water,
waiting for a fish to rise.
The one bear quickly became two, as the cub emerged from her shadow, bounding up the side of the small hill, likely darting for the patch of low-hanging berries, abundant at this time of year.
The distance between our fishing spot and the bears on the other side of the river is substantial, more than enough to provide a sense of safety, and awe at being able to witness many of nature's wonders right in the heart of the city.
A little earlier, a massive eagle had swept by several times, talons stretched out, fishing for its supper. Just 10 or 15 feet away, the bird did three large circles going from our spot on the shore, over to the MacDonald Island side, across to the north shore and back again. Third time lucky, the eagle took his catch to a spot directly opposite the bunch of us, chowing down on the distant bank.
From a family of ducks drifting by to a huge heron gliding overhead, from majestic fish jumping out of the water to a lone beaver searching for their next piece of wood, we are blessed every day with the opportunity to see these wonderful animals in their natural environment.
Back on September 1st, 2010, the Regional Municipality of Wood Buffalo (RMWB) started enforcing the Single-Use Shopping Bag Bylaw. It has been a contentious piece of local legislation that has supporters and detractors firmly planted on their respective sides of the fence.
For those not from Wood Buffalo (Fort McMurray, Fort McKay, Fort Chipewyan, Fort Fitzgerald, Gregoire Lake Estates, Anzac, Conklin, Janvier, Draper, Saprae Creek): in our towns, when you go to the grocery store you have to bring your own bags, preferably the multi-use woven variety, or purchase something of a similar ilk when you get to the checkout - NO PLASTIC BAGS ALLOWED. That's the long and short of it, though its complexities offer a few scenarios that are exempt (pharmacy, liquor store, etc.). But when you go to a clothing or department store, the same no plastic rule still applies.
In our region, it's not uncommon to see someone leave a store with a bundle full of items in their arms because they had forgotten to bring their own bags and/or they didn't want to spend an extra dollar or two to buy one. In any other community, someone walking out of the store with merchandise would be chased down and arrested.
As part of the legislation (enacted before this new term of Council), a mandatory review was to be done at the end of the first year, now rapidly approaching. Discussions vitriolically expressing pro's and con's are happening on Facebook and Twitter, on the streets and around the water cooler. This is an issue for which everyone has an opinion.
To help quantify the feelings and perspectives, the RMWB has set up a comprehensive online survey on their recycling website. It takes about 15 minutes to fill out and provides ample opportunity to articulate your position on the matter. As they will need a couple of weeks to sort through the data before presenting the findings to Council in September, the deadline to participate is August 15th.
Our family started making the transition to multi-use bags in the 6 months leading up to the start of the bylaw, so, for us, the implementation was easy. That is not to say we always remember our bags when we go shopping. We're pretty good about when we go to the grocery store. However, when we go to Walmart or Canadian Tire, I too often forget the bags in the car.
Dealing with the growing number of bags - of all shapes and sizes - is an ongoing challenge. After the groceries get unpacked, the bags get stuffed into a space in the hall closest until such time that they are overflowing and we get inspired to sort them out and put them back into the car. It is an imperfect system, and at times frustrating. But, our family firmly believes in the benefits.
One citizen shared with me one small example of the difference this bylaw has made.
"Before this came into effect, my neighborhood would be littered with tattered plastic bags that had blown over from the grocery store that's just up the block," they said. "We don't see that anymore. I would hate to go back to the way it was before."
The other side of the issue cites massive inconvenience and negative impacts at the business level. They also miss the abundance of plastic bags to use to line their waste baskets, pick up doggy doo doo, and to satisfy myriad other demands around the house.
As a Municipal Councillor charged with the responsibility of ultimately making a decision about whether we should keep, adjust or scrap this bylaw, I am compelled to keep an open mind. I'm so glad that a survey process has been created to gather meaningful research to help us figure out which way to go. Make sure to add your voice to the discussion via the survey. This is your chance to put all your thoughts on the table.
My summer clock revolves around interPLAY, and has since I moved to Fort McMurray in 1996. The annual celebration of the visual and performing arts has become part of my circadian rhythm, a piece of my DNA.
In less than two week, the festival, which has been staged on Franklin Avenue between Hardin and Main for 19 of its 20 years, moves to a new location on King Street at Keyano College. The idea for the location popped into my head halfway through a phone conversation with Rick Kirschner from KAOS Radio, at a time when Events Wood Buffalo Executive Director Claude Giroux and I were trying to figure out where to go. Our traditional home was slated from major construction and permanent redesign, necessitating a move to a new location.
"Hold that thought," I said to Rick. "That's it. We need to move to King Street."
Right in the middle of that conversation all of the cogs of the gear wheels in my mind came into perfect alignment and the fog of indecision lifted.
King Street offers interPLAY excellent facilities (Keyano College, Composite High School and Heritage Park), more room than it knows what to do with, and a thoroughfare that you can afford to shut down for a number of days without overly impacting anyone. The opening of Prairie Loop Boulevard was a game changer in making this possible. If King Street was still an arterial route, hosting a major festival and shutting down the road would be nigh on impossible.
After 15 years of being one of the major cogs in the wheel, I have devolved into a true festival patron. I no longer know the intricate details, the names of the performers, the schedule of shows or the attractions. Like most everyone else, I rely on the interPLAY program to be my road map to fun from August 4 to 7.
I'm so proud of the work that has happened over the past decade to build the interPLAY brand. Consistent and strong design has made a world of difference in strengthening the festival's reputation here at home and across Western Canada. The man behind the design is Andrew Johnstone, now living in the UK.
Andrew and I started at Keyano College on the same day in 1999. Two years later we enlisted his expertise to begin the process of developing a professional look for interPLAY. His first design (interPLAY 2001 - The Quest for the Lost Art) set us on a new course that ended up being integral to our exponential growth. Andrew continues to do transformative work for Events Wood Buffalo (and other organizations in Wood Buffalo), even though he lives across the Big Pond.
So, shortly after Heritage Day, when thousands of guests will enjoy the rich history and family fun at Heritage Park, the Events Wood Buffalo crew will begin transforming King Street, the front lawn of Composite High School and the Theatre & Arts Centre parking lot at Keyano College into the new look interPLAY site.
The longevity and growth of interPLAY has been greatly influenced by its title sponsor TransAlta. Having predictable funding during our formative years, allowed the organization to established an operational equilibrium and unstoppable momentum.
Here is a picture of TransAlta's Doug Sabine presented their sponsorship cheque to Greg Butters, Events Wood Buffalo President, flanked from from left to right by Daniel Sauer, Claude Giroux, Jenn Lamontagne, Pavlina Vaverka and Misty Oakes. These are the folks behind the scenes who are making the magic happen. When you see them scurrying about on interPLAY weekend, be sure to give them a well-deserved pat on the back. What they do isn't easy, but the fluidity with which they do it is fueled by passion for this region and the importance of festivity to our quality of life.
"There was a post on Facebook that tipped me off."
"I got a BBM message from my former roomate who has a friend who saw it."
I'm almost certain that most of us have heard one of these sentences, or something similar, in relation to a major news event. Roll the clock back 10, 15, 20 years and that collection of sentences may have looked something like this:
"They turned on the television at school so we could watch the updates."
"I was shocked to read the paper this morning to find out..."
"Heard about it while driving to work and listening to the radio."
The advent of social media has dramatically changed how we get information. Though Twitter has not penetrated the psyches of the masses in the way that Facebook has, those sending and reading tweets are exceptional at spreading the news via their robust networks.
Case in point: last Saturday a major police event was happening in Eagle Ridge here in Fort McMurray. Twitter became the primary conduit for information to those both inside and outside the event. A lone gunman had barricaded himself inside a home with a long-barreled rifle, for reasons yet to be shared by the authorities - though I could swear I saw some tweets that suggested it had something to do with the guy's dog.
One of the fellows who was evacuated from the area due to his proximity to potential gun fire was the author of the My Oil Sands blog, Matt Youens. With less than 60 seconds to gather his wits, wallet and iPhone, he spent most of the rest of the day away from his home, first on a Diversified bus, then at an evacuation centre. His tweets along with those from several others in the area spread like wildfire on Saturday morning and by 11 am, news of the stand-off was everywhere. Matt wrote an excellent post (The YMM Standoff – Where Did You Get Your News?) about the role that social media played in keeping the public informed.
In days of yore, we had an unquestioned dependency on traditional media for our information. Newspaper outlets and television and radio stations had an absolute monopoly on the dissemination of news. While some of us would place phone calls to let others know of an emerging news situation, that circulation of information would usually be reserved for the immediate area. In those days we had to pay for long distance phone calls. Before calling relatives on the other end of the country we had to plan for how much it was going to cost. Do you remember that?
In YMM (YMM - is the airport calls for Fort McMurray, three letters used as a hash tag identifier on Twitter for tweets related to our community) we have a growing number of citizen journalists who have become trusted news sources. They write blogs, tweet regularly, and engage in discussions in various places online. They are information rich and deeply inquisitive. Among them are personalities embedded within traditional media entities. The social media universe has become media's most important source for what's happening and what people are talking about, and to their credit, they are tapped in.
This new social media universe is forcing those of us who make a living doing marketing and communication to rethink how we do everything, the way we share information and advertise, the way we tell our stories. This universe is vast, with billions of channels, limitless networks, and uncharted connections. In many ways, I feel like an astronaut on the outer edge of a new galaxy, about to go where no man has gone before. What a rush!
Trying to do the math on exactly how many fish I've caught in the past 7 days would be difficult. The number would probably be in the 50 to 60 range. But I can say with absolute certainty that I've caught more fish in the past week, than I have during the entirety of the last three fishing seasons.
Following a whisper from one of my colleagues at work and while caught with idle time during an abhorrent storm at Gregoire Lake Provincial Park, I dipped my rod in the water at the end of the boat dock in the pouring rain and discovered the mother load, fisherman's paradise.
In that first 75 minute stretch, I landed about 12 - mostly walleye (or pickerel, I'm not really sure which is correct).
I went out a couple of evenings later, and even in the Grand Central Station-esque environs of two abysmally inadequate docks (one boat after another was attempting to get out of the water, some waiting up to an hour to get loaded up on to their trailers) caught 25 to 30 fish, my head spinning trying to make sense of it all.
Completely hooked, I darted out again later in the week, as soon as my scheduled allowed, despite the gloomy clouds and harsh wind. This time, it was like the two previous outings were a mirage, a fantasical aberration. Cold, wet, and nonplussed, with not even a nibble, I packed up and headed home.
Not to be defeated, trips on Friday evening and now this morning, produced at least a couple of dozen catches each outing.
At first this morning, it was eerily silent, no hits at all for the first 45 minutes or so. But after dumping some of the water that had been sitting in my tub of minnows to thaw them out, everything changed. All of a sudden, my minnows were getting attacked moments after hitting the water.
The norm over the past couple of years has been to wait patiently for long stretches of time in hopes that a fish would rise - river fishing. Out at the spot on the west side of Gregoire Lake, a new norm has been established, one that I fear will be difficult to top, no matter where I go.
The name hit me upside the head as I turned the page of the Fort McMurray Today from last Friday (July 8, 2011). Nestled at the top of the column, the notice from the Operating Engineers Local 955 was in the place reserved for those who have met their end. Ray G. Kenehan had died on July 5th. Ray. Old Ray Dog.
A long time ago, before I met Heather, when I was in my second year of owning this house, every bedroom was being rented out; I needed the income to be able to pay the mortgage. There were only two exceptions: the master bedroom and the one occupied by my one year old son Dylan. Ray showed up in 2000 and stayed a resident for at least two, possibly three years.
He was there as my relationship with Dylan's mom came crashing to the ground. He was there as I recovered from Achilles tendon surgery, an injury I suffered on stage in the fall of that year playing Biff in Death of a Salesman. He was there as I was a single father on one leg, trying to take care of a one year old son who, with mild cerebral palsy, was also unable to walk. We were quite a pair, or a trio if you include Ray.
He was a truck driver from Ontario who struggled with his twin demons of drinking and gambling. At his best Ray would send the bulk of his pay home to his wife and kids; at his worst he would gamble it away hours after cashing his cheque. When he was working, he worked hard and worked clean. When he was left with time off, he struggled to stay away from the bottle and the local casino, too conveniently located a couple of blocks from our house.
There are three things that stand out in my memory about Ray, things that I admired and appreciated.
First, he loved his family. He often spoke of his five children and would express concern about being able to provide for them. He loved to talk on the phone with his siblings and would do so often. He also talked lots with his stepmother Trudy.
Second, he loved country music. Ray liked the old stuff, names like Merle Haggard, Hank Williams and Waylon Jennings. It was in the music that I believe he connected with the deep sorrow in his life, the inevitable emptiness that came from the choices he made and the demons he battled.
Third, he walked softly and was gentle and kind during his long periods of sobriety. As he went about his business, either early in the morning or late at night, he was quiet as a mouse. I appreciated his stealthiness as many of the other roommates took the opposite approach to communal living. He was also good to talk to, willing to listen and eager to share. With Dylan, he was deferential and engaging.
"Where's Yay?" Dylan would ask, still unable to pronounce the letter R.
We often talked about his struggles, of his desire to do right by his family, and of his longing to be closer to his kids.
There is a song by T. Graham Brown that I will always associate with Ray and his lifelong journey that ended just a few days ago. It's called Water Into Wine.
The words are powerful and probably can be applied to anyone who has battled with the bottle.
WINE INTO WATER
Album: Wine Into Water | T. Graham Brown
You've hear a multitude of prayers on my behalf
I pray that one more is not too much to ask
I've tried to fight this battle by myself
But it's a war that I can't win without your help
Chorus:
To-night I'm as low as any man can go
I'm down and I can't fall much farther
And once upon a time you turned the water into wine
Now on my knees I'm turning to you father
Could you help me turn the wine back into water
So many times I've hurt the ones I love
I pushed them to the edge of giving up
They've stood by me but how much can they stand
If I don't put this bottle in you hands
Chorus:
To-night I'm as low as any man can go
I'm down and I can't fall much farther
And once upon a time you turned the water into wine
Now on my knees I'm turning to you father
Could you help me turn the wine back into water
I shook my fist at heaven for all the hell that I've been through
Now I'm beggin' for forgiveness and a miracle from you, cause
To-night I'm as low as any man can go
I'm down and I can't fall much farther
And once upon a time you turned the water into wine
Now on my knees I'm turning to you father
Could you help me turn the wine back into water
Could you help me turn the wine back into water
In the end, we are left with whispers of memory and waves of feeling. Ray will always have a special place in my heart for being there during those interesting days when I was a single father with a very special son. He had a good heart, though in the end it failed him. Rest well Ray, in the warming breeze of heaven to a never-ending soundtrack of old fashioned country music, just the way you like it.
KENEHAN, Ray - 1949 - 2011. Passed away peacefully with his children by his side, on July 5, 2011 at the University of Alberta Hospital, in Alberta, in his 63rd year. Predeceased by his parents Gerald and Hannora, and stepmother Trudy. Loving father of Jennifer, Tanya, Lisa, Brandon and Michelle. Dear grandpa to Edan. Ray will be sadly missed by his siblings Shiela Thompson (Brian), Paul, Chris and Janice Moran, as well as many nieces, nephews other family and friends.
It was our first weekend at home without the kids since Ben was born over 8 years ago. We decided to take the opportunity to go on a rare overnight tenting adventure to Gregoire Lake. The last time we did that it was the May long weekend of 2001.
We had pitched ourselves that year alongside Mariana Lake, just south of where the store and gas station used to be. It was a wet, cold and rugged experience. Our seemingly insouciant trip this weekend to the provincial park, a short 20 minute drive out of Fort McMurray, ended up testing our monsoon camping skills.
The heavy rain had not arrived yet as we set up the tent and did our best at affixing the blue tarp to the dearth of trees at the campsite we'd booked online, sight unseen. We managed to eek out a sliver of protection from the rain that was becoming increasingly present as we neared the completion of our set up.
As if on cue, the monsoon let loose its fury as we tapped in the final peg and tied off the final length of rope.
"Oh my God it's muddy," said Heather as she tried to negotiate the slight incline back to the car, slipping and sliding.
We spent much of the afternoon reading and enjoying a leisurely nap to the soundtrack provided by the pelting rain and blowing wind.
Trying to light a fire to cook dinner was interesting. Heather brilliantly suggested that we back up the car to provide a tie-off location so we could extend the 30-foot tarp over top the fire pit. Protected from the onslaught of water, the fire slowly found its legs and apart from being smothered in smoke, we managed to enjoy a satisfying meal of chipolte smokies.
To kill time and satisfy my urge to dip my rod in the water, if only for a few minutes, I suggested that we drive to the boat launch so I could fish off the dock. We arrived around 8 pm and just 90 minutes later I had landed 10 pickerel and a couple of northern pike.
"This is like taking candy from a baby," I said to the pair fishing on the opposite dock.
That total might have been higher had I not lost a couple of big ones just a few feet away. One particularly gargantuan pickerel robbed me of my rig, as its weight managed to snap the line.
In all my years of fishing, things had never been more productive or fun. In short, I was in an earthly heaven, standing at the end of the Gregoire Lake Provincial Park boat dock, oblivious to the monsoon that continued with a fury.
There is a tree at the confluence of the Snye and the Clearwater that is a favourite perch for some amazing birds. The other day it was a massive blue heron that vaulted itself off the old branch hovering high above MacDonald Island, stretching its long beautiful body as it swooped across the river. Yesterday, it was a bird of a different feather.
Unlike most days of late, that have been breezy to the point of distraction, Thursday provided crystal calm conditions and just the right amount of sun to make it comfortable for those of us with our rods in the water. And apart from the music pouring out of the car, the sound of distant heavy equipment backing up - BEEP BEEP BEEP, it was a quiet evening - the SeaDoers were nowhere to be seen.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a bald eagle, way up on that same old branch, staring down at us. With its white pate and black body, it felt like an old professor was at the front of the class assessing our fishing skills.
All of a sudden he dove off the branch in a steep arch and drifted to the surface of the water before taking a regal trip up the Clearwater just off to our right. It made a wide turn and headed back to the same spot off the point, reaching down with its menacing talons, hoping for supper.
"This is how the big boys do it," the eagle thought to himself as he made a second pass.
It was a beautiful moment, one worth preserving on Twitter.
I must have learned something from the wise old eagle because I ended up catching four fish that night, three in just a matter of minutes. Thank you old wise one.
Right after two Fort McMurray RCMP officers had their picture taken, it was our turn. Dylan and I stood at the ready as Gene Simmons, Eric Singer, Paul Stanley, and Tommy Thayer posed against a backdrop featuring their tour logo. A box with an 8-inch lift had been pre-placed on the ground, giving Mr. Singer a little boost so he could measure up against the towering Mr. Simmons.
Gene was immediately efficacious in making a connection with Dylan, giving him knuckles and a beaming smile.
"Hi Gene, great to meet you," I said pounding knuckles, feeling way younger than my age would suggest.
All of a sudden, at least in the case of Gene and Paul, the two original members of the band, I was surrounded by the looming icons of my youth. It was surprisingly surreal and a moment captured by their professional photographer.
My friend Jim Cressman with the Cressman Sakamoto Agency (CSA), the firm that negotiated the tour, captured the moment from a slightly different angle.
The picture, while slightly grainy, captures it perfectly. It was the penultimate close encounter with greatness, though it felt like they were just four of the guys, friends, neighbors, even family.
Jim grew up in the small community of Donalda, north of Stettler in Central Alberta. I had forgotten that fact, always associating him with the area near Calgary where his parents ranched. He worked for me at one point, living in the basement of my old house in downtown Drumheller before moving on to a radio gig in Brooks and finally Calgary. In 2000 he left the broadcasting business and eventually hooked up with one of Alberta's most successful concert promoters, Ron Sakamoto from Gold and Gold Productions, and formed CSA. Jim is the President of the company and worked closely with agent Paul Biro to secure the KISS date for Fort McMurray, the only outdoor show on this leg of their tour.
Moments after Dylan and I made it back to our place at the railing in the right VIP area THE HOTTEST SHOW ON EARTH began. It was a feast for the senses from start to finish. At one point, they had their photographer take a shot of them and the crowd from his perch on top of the drum kit riser. This is the money shot.
It was the biggest concert in Fort McMurray history. While the final tally has not been made public, I'm sure that there were at least 12,000 souls on that site. According to numbers released by MacDonald Island Park, it took a mere 30 minutes to clear the concert facility and a further hour and 15 minutes to get everyone off the island. With 500 volunteers, 150 security (including RCMP, bylaw and emergency services personnel) and staff from Events Wood Buffalo and MacDonald Island Park, the event was almost incident free.
As they dived into their classic Detroit Rock City I tweeted the following: Paul Stanley declares Fort McMurray a ROCK CITY as the Clearwater River Valley rocks like never before. KISS in #YMM. It, along with an earlier tweet featuring the photo of Fort McMurray's finest with the band, ended up getting picked up by @KISSopolis and tweeted to their 13,000+ followers. I can't imagine how much play the money shot is going to get today in the social media universe.
Watching from our spot in the VIP section next to the media folks, we had a great view of both the crowd in front of the stage....
...and the crowd in the beer garden.
There were a lot of people on the site, about as many as you could fit safely.
What was remarkable and truly hard to understand is how bits and pieces of this experience are going to be shared. Almost everyone, at some point or another, captured a picture or video clip of the concert and have shared it with their circle of friends. It is safe to suggest that the success of this event, its powerful images and sounds, will eventually resonate around the world as it was truly a global audience, reflecting Wood Buffalo's cultural diversity.
Fort McMurray is now on the map as having the interest and ability to host events normally reserved for the million plus cities. Negotiations are already underway for 2012 and believe me when I tell you that KISS is only the beginning.
After a bucketful of build up, the day has finally arrived when THE HOTTEST SHOW ON EARTH will happen in Fort McMurray. Just a few short months ago the idea of hosting KISS, one of the biggest rock bands in the world, was a pipe dream, a wistful longing, an unreachable Rosebud. Now, Gene Simmons is comfortably resting somewhere within shouting distance from my open study window.
I spent 15 years organizing the interPLAY Festival in Fort McMurray, an exercise in planning and complexity that pales in comparison to what the Events Wood Buffalo and MacDonald Island Park gang have done to prepare for this day.
The concert site, put to the test with several lead-up events surrounding Canada Day, is incredibly laid out, sprawling, well-conceived and robust enough to comfortably handle the 11,000+ guests who will pour in when the gates open at 7 pm. Much like the maze you go through to clear customs at the major airports, a similar crowd management strategy has been employed at the entrance of the CanadaROCKS site using construction fencing. Those that come early will be positioned near the front of this line - at least those with general admission tickets - ready to grab those coveted spots close to the stage with hopes of catching an errant guitar pick or a few orphaned drops of fake blood that will inevitably fly out of Mr. Simmon's mouth at one point or another.
Sponsors and VIP ticket holders will be perched above the crowd, on scaffold structures built by Aluma Systems. These two auspicious looking towers will hold about 500 people a piece and provide a superior view of the stage and ultimately, an amazing concert experience.
The less overt elements of the concert site are the things that grab my attention: three impressive banks of porta-potties complete with hand-wash stations, more than several automated tellers to provide the streams of cash that will flow tonight, a plethora of tents to accommodate everything from catering to merchandise sales, an authoritative command centre perfectly positioned near the entrance to the site to set the right tone.
This scale of event doesn't just magically happen. It takes incredible skill and effort to bring it all together in a short window of time. I am in awe of the collaborative effort that has taken place between the staffs of Events Wood Buffalo and MacDonald Island Park. Individually, they have an array of talent and knowledge, collectively, they have the capacity to deliver a world-class event in a way that this longtime event organizer does not take for granted.
Claude Giroux, Executive Director of Events Wood Buffalo, and Tim Reid, Chief Operating Officer of MacDonald Island Park are the generals behind the scenes who have orchestrated the symphony that got us here. They did so by tapping into the support and knowledge of their respective boards, the expertise and dedication of their respective staffs, the passion and contributions of hundreds of community volunteers, the support and investment from a family of sponsors that would make most communities desirous, and the commitment and vision of a diverse community committee that has been meeting weekly in preparation for this day.
Festivity is important. It allows us to come together as a culturally diverse community and share a common experience. Standing in the line yesterday in the middle of the family activities located just outside the main concert site, I was not only struck by the vast number of young families who had flooded to the event, but I was overjoyed at seeing people from around the world, celebrating the birthday of our beautiful country that embraces all people, their traditions, beliefs, fashions and forms of artistic expression.
Tonight, Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Eric Singer and Tommy Thayer will emerge from their dressing room, walk up a short set of stairs and arrive in the spotlight of the mainstage at CanadaROCKS in Fort McMurray, Wood Buffalo, Alberta to begin THE HOTTEST SHOW ON EARTH - according to Gene, the most northerly performance of KISS since 1974 when they toured Alaska.
It is impossible to accurately count the number of people who will have engaged with one of the many elements of the CanadaROCKS festivities stretched out over the past few days. But I would guess that the majority of our citizens still in town - many have left for the start of summer holidays - have had some connection with the celebrations.
We are grateful to every one of the folks behind the scenes who have made the magic possible. I would hope that tonight, when 11,000 fans are on their feet cheering, that every member of the team - staff, volunteers, sponsors - embrace at least a portion of the cheers as their own. They are the HEART of Wood Buffalo.
