It's the middle of the afternoon on the day of our first bout. Thankfully my London homeboy tracked down a bag of greens, so at least there will be salad for the rest of the trip, which is good.
Yesterday was riotous.
The Alternate Showcase in the afternoon featured cats from Halifax, Ottawa, London, and... one other who I can't remember (he read all his shit and it wasn't all that memorable). It was deadly. Rusty from Ottawa had his BC dwelling fam in the place to see him perform for the first time, and he did great, but St. Ephanie from HFX tore the motherfucker up. She spit five pieces, nailed all of them with flawless precision, and did so in a friendly, matronly way that made the content of her pieces all the more engaging. Amazing.
That was followed by the Aboriginal Showcase. Zaccheus Jackson opened it up and amazed me once again. It was extraordinary. I needed to compose myself after having my heart slapped around by the Mighty Z, so I missed the rest of the showcase, but the day was only getting started.
I returned to the venue to catch the slam. Well holy fuck. Competition is in the air. Cats were segregated into groups. Eyes got more protective. Conversations turned to whispers. In the first bout, the judges were averaging sevens, which is low for a slam, but they were consistent. There were some great pieces and some not-so-great pieces, but none brought that deeply felt "wow" feeling into the room. The Last Chance team took it.
The second bout is hazy in my memory. I was in and out, kicking freestyles and beatboxes outside, trying to find some of the aforementioned salad trimmings. The scores were generally higher, the wow factor still missing... except for one about digging to China from one of the London team (I cant remember the name at the moment... a write-yer-email/facebook-name sheet is being drawn up), which was grand.
I need a nap before we go, so Ill fill in the rest later... with details of our efforts, too.
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