A red beam of light casts down upon a wooden stage, riddled with splinters and scuff marks from the sliding of drum kits.
Sitting centre stage is an old man, with a grey beard so long he can nearly tuck it into his belt, as his tired hands pluck away at a battered acoustic, wire-strings fraying at the edges as they reach past the guitar’s head. His voice is full of grit, honed over the years from too many cigarettes and too much rye whiskey as he sings about the good old days. The crowd is quiet, listening to his every word.
To me, that’s just about the best way to spend a Friday night, or any night for that matter.
Coming from Calgary, and having grown up in Saskatoon, live music, whether it’s folk, blues, indie-jams, or singer-songwriter tunes were everywhere to be found. Admittedly, I was skeptical about coming to what I considered to be a small town.
On my first night in Vernon, I stopped at the local watering hole for a cheeky pint.
“Is there anything going on tonight?” I asked the waitress as she carted around my brew.
“Not really. There never is in this town.”
After prying more and more in hopes of receiving an adequate answer, she said that most of the young people go to Kelowna, so nothing she considered interesting comes to Vernon.
I’m embarrassed to say that I believed her.
If there was nothing happening in Vernon, there wouldn’t be an arts and entertainment section in The Morning Star. I wouldn’t be pulling my hair out every Wednesday trying to fit everyone’s events into Friday’s LiveWire. I wouldn’t have a job, and I wouldn’t be in Vernon.
That very night, as I left the bar in a hefeweizen induced haze, I stumbled past a lounge with someone singing in the window as the seemingly jolly clientele sipped their fancy cocktails. I strolled past a record shop with vinyls hanging above the sidewalk and posters splattered on the door in an array of bright and shiny neon colours announcing a plethora of events.
And it isn’t just music. This town has everything.
In my first week at the paper, I wrote about everything from the newsroom-notorious bowling stats to a craft beer revolution seminar. I’ve written about heavy metal festivals, performing arts, blues musicians, punk-rockers, and art exhibits.
While writing each of these pieces and the numerous others that come across the arts desk, I have to make a conscious decision of what to cover. There is too much arts and entertainment in Vernon for one man, or woman, to cover.
Even if I multiplied and created a clone of myself, or two or even three, there would still be events that me and my twins don’t have the manpower to cover.
There are more than 20 art galleries within driving distance of Vernon, more live music venues you can shake a stick at, and about 40 events in the LiveWire every week. That doesn’t include the thrice-weekly Community Calendar, which is home to some events that could be considered part of the arts.
Vernon may never have the arts scene of Vancouver, or even of Saskatoon, but to say that nothing happens here is delusional.
While I’m still a rookie in Vernon, having been here for only a month, I can tell you with certainty that she was wrong, and I was a fool.