7 Deadly Questions: Trevor Risk

Seven Deadly Questions: Trevor Risk

Trevor's a good friend of mine who was originally introduced to me years ago through another great friend, because of our mutual love for the sport of American Football. God dammit, I love me some foosballs.

Well, as it turned out, we shared a lot of other things in common. Music, thoughts on this life we have, the bottle, love for a proper Friday night. You know. The stuff worth sticking around this place for.

Trevor is one of those encyclopedic types that doesn't need his smart phone as a reference to look up whatever stat or fact you're talking about. I use my phone all the time, it's the brain I can count on when I've abused mine too much. Watching football with Trevor isn't just a Sunday watching some shit go down on a field while yelling at a people who can't hear you, it's an educational experience and actually improves the game for anyone sitting within earshot. The same applies for anything else in life. Talking with him talking about music. History. Politics.

He's an interesting fella with lots to say, so who better to lead off this new series we're going to try, 7 Deadly Questions.

7 Deadly Questions

Gluttony — Do you have any kind of eating habits that are super shitty? A place to eat or type of food you wouldn't hit up on a first date, or maybe even after months of dating? Mine is probably KFC, but I ordered delivery from there for a Valentine's Day date one time. So, throw fear of gluttony out the window for this guy. Whatever, she loved it. Girls love KFC, especially on special occasions. Trust me.

Trevor: I try to eat real well, because my other habits aren't so healthy. I feel like I'm mostly trying to put a certain amount of dietary hit points in my life to curb the nonsense I get up to otherwise. You know that video of Jerry Seinfeld making Larry David eat a pancake and he's all "People live like this?" after he eats it? That's my attitude. I hate pancakes. I have a Catholic mum, so we used to eat a lot of pancakes, and always at dinner. It's basically just shovelling dough in your mouth, and I don't get it, and never did. I don't eat sweets. I don't drink coffee. Occasionally I'll eat half a bag of Hawkins cheezies, and late night food can often be bad for you, but on the whole, I like to eat fish, vegetables, and potato products. Also I've never understood Greek food. I mean, potato and rice on the same dish? What's that about? I don't even like rice. I've realized that recently. Rice is the worst ninety percent of the time. 

Lust — If you could photograph any girl on the planet naked, who would it be? I know you have a girlfriend, but there's no way she reads this shit. Go on, be honest! 

Trevor: I can't take a photograph to save my life. I don't have an eye for that. I like to think I'm serviceable with songs, and can write my way out of a wet sack of mice, but photos aren't in my wheelhouse. Like most red blooded men, I used to have a thing for Kate Upton, but after seeing how dim she seems to be after watching her on Letterman, and realizing that she's just the contemporary version of Anna Nicole Smith, I think I'm off that bangwagon (sic). Currently I'm enamoured by Alyssa CampanellaSatu SuominenDiora BairdMary Elizabeth Winstead, and Alex Daddario. But just for the experience, I'd like to take photos of Katie Aselton, just because we could talk football. 

Greed — What are you really reluctant to share with others? Something you just hoard, or when someone else has it or is sharing it with you, you think to yourself, "Back off, get your own sandwich!" 

Trevor: When I croak, I'd really like people to remember me as a generous guy. I'm definitely not into sharing meals though. Like, when women all crowd around and order one piece of cake and get, like, eight forks I want to kill myself. It's not that I NEED to eat all my own food, but if you want something to eat, order it. Don't eat my meal. 

Sloth — What makes you the laziest? I mean, "I'm never going to lift a finger again" lazy. Lazy beyond all respect. Heat? It's heat, right? I bet it's heat. 

Trevor: I do hate the heat. I'm not built for it. I have rice paper skin, that burns and then when it peels, it's whiter than before I started. If my cat is lying belly-up in the drawing room, I know better than to leave the house. She's like my thermometer. Sports probably make me lazy though. Sundays I get up early, just to relax, which I understand is like speeding towards a red light. But I can watch the NFL all day long. It's a chess match that has mesmerized me since I was a child. 

Wrath — You're not an angry guy as far as I know you. I mean, you certainly have your opinions, though.  I see you as a guy who basically always says what's on his mind whether it might offend someone or not. There's gotta be something more hidden in there. What do you really want to do or say to people when they do something you hate? What do you hate, anyway? 

Trevor: The two words that are misused the most in the English language are the "United" in United States of America, and "hate". My old man just wrote a book about his time in Canada Customs and counter terrorism. Reading it, I realize why he told me as a boy "Trevor, you don't HATE anyone. Hate is a strong word," and that's because he's seen real hate. He's seen people blown up with land mines because of political borders. He's seen people get skinned alive in Yugoslavia because of race. I try not to hate anything.

 I get that's not what you're asking though. What probably drives me up the wall the most is getting blamed as a straight man for the way women have body issues. I want to scream from the top of the mountain that it has nothing to do with us. All us straight men miss the days of the early nineties, when super models in George Michael videos had curves and took control of their careers. There's a reason that previously mentioned Kate Upton was on the cover of the swimsuit edition two years running, and those who call her fat are bigwigs in the fashion industry, who are almost entirely other women, and gay men; and who hates women more than women and gay men? Sorry lovely, when your gay friend calls you "slut" or "whore" he's being a shithead and I want to cold cock him. Y'know, if I'm trying to find sultry photos of Barbara Palvin or Kate Upton and run into another blog giving them crap for being "bigger" I'm going to lose it. I got a press release a few months ago for apparently "plus sized swimwear" and they were the foxiest women I had seen in weeks. 

Envy — So, let's say the ability to literally hijack somebody's body and life has just been invented. Like in Being John Malkovich, you just walk into a door on the 7 1/2th floor, and voila. You're that person. You sound like them. You look like them. You literally are them. But, like in the movie you only get about 30 minutes or whatever. Whose door are you walking into? What's the first thing you're going to do with their life in those 30 minutes? 

Trevor: I have this daydream when I'm watching sports, in the crucial moments of a game, being John Malkoviched into the body of the guy who is about to perform. Then I realize quickly that I'd bugger it up, so I think that I want to be transported into the body of the guy who's on the opposite team. Like, when I'm watching my Bruins, I wish I was Tuukka Rask, but then I quickly want to be the opposing goalie for a few minutes because it would be way easier to just let in a bunch of goals than stop some. Again, I get that you're asking a different question. I suppose I'm jealous of a few different people at different moments. Sometimes I get jealous of Taran Killam because he gets to be on SNL, and do Robyn impressions,and then come home to Cobie Smulders. Also, I see bands like the Smith Westerns and think about how good their songs are and how good looking they are and that they're like eight years younger than me. I've been envious of them before, for sure. 

Pride — When was the last time you patted yourself on the back and said, "Dammit, Trevor! You're good. Like, real good." 

Trevor: It might sound hokey, but I try not to listen to praise. I decided that when a person puts his personality on display, he is always going to get both harsh criticism and sycophantic praise, and that the urge is to only listen to the praise. But that will make you insane (see: Grimes) and surrounding yourself by a bunch of dick slurpers is no way to live. My closest friends give me shit constantly, which makes their compliments actually mean something (when I get them). A person can only listen to both criticism and praise, or neither. I choose neither, because it's easier that way. Choosing one or the other would make me pinwheel out of control. I try to just do my jobs, and try not to kill too much time between drinks. I will say that I'm proud of how good I am with animals. I don't even like dogs, but my mum used to take me to dog shows as a kid, and I would take dog magazines and cut out photos of all the breeds and keep them in a fanny pack. I know almost every breed and what their genetic failings are. I can get a cat to settle down and hang out real quick. My friends with cats usually get me to help them out with theirs. It's real easy. Cats are like women: ignore them and they'll be all over you. 

More About Trevor

Trevor has more going on than sitting with me and talking about football. A lot more. He is a Vancouver-based freelance writer, editor at ION Magazine, project manager at Light Organ Records, DJ, local impresario, and leader of the post-pop band Sunshine. It's shameful how much shit he's into. Me? I've got a blog and a bottle.

Follow him and the band on Twitter at @SunshineSucks and on Facebook.

Pick your poison, below is a SoundCloud and YouTube link to Sunshine's track about Doctor Who, The Tyler Rose...

Twin Shadow: Five Photos In Your Heart


The guy that occasionally pulls his act together to send me photos recently shot Twin Shadow at the Electric Owl club in Vancouver. Take a look-see at these fine shots and listen to some Twin Shadow.

For more photos by Tom Nugent, check out his website. 

Father John Misty, Live at The Commodore in Vancouver

Father John Misty, aka J. Tillman at The Commodore in Vancouver, opening for The Walkmen

I'll spare you with the words here. Lately we've had story posts, recipes and travel tips. How about some nice photos for you to digest instead? If you're a frequent visitor of Love & Rum, you'll recognize the image below from a previous post about the J. Tillman / Slowcoustic cover album.

These photos were taken by Tom Nugent at a semi-recent show of Father John Misty's at The Commodore where he opened for The Walkmen (those photos coming later). I love the different looks and stages you get through this small selection of shots. From the top image in this post to the last, you can see the progression happen...


Strange Encounters in the Michoacán


by Eric Greene

It was a cold morning. Much colder than it should’ve been. You could tell that it would be a hot day, but the sun was yet to come over the mountains, so the sea remained a cold black from the night with a biting offshore wind.

I was travelling alone and had been in Mexico’s Michoacán state for about a week. I hadn’t met another gringo in this particular spot. There were already a handful of early-rising surfers in the lineup and the vibe was quiet and relaxed. Perhaps the rest of the crowd was as cold as I was and still waking up. I caught a smaller inside wave and rode it all the way into shore. I was loosening up my legs, but also milking a long ride in to enjoy the comfort of being above the frigid water for those few extra seconds. I kicked out to paddle back to the point and was joined by another surfer I took to be local heading out from shore. 

“Goodmorning!” he said to me, grinning keenly.

“Buenos dias,” I replied.

“De dónde eres?” he asked.

“Canada,” I answered.

“Oh, I love Canada!” he declared in smooth English, still grinning. “I did studies in Vancouver!”

And thus, our long conversation began. You know how it goes… the name game of all the places, things, and people you mutually share with someone random you meet on the road. This particular young man was from Guadalajara and out on the coast for the weekend to surf. He was a novice surfer, but possessed that passion for waves that brought him on the long bus ride from his city every weekend.

“I had a job while I studied,” he continued as we sat together between sets. “It was at the girlie bar, near Hasting Street. How do you say, for stripping?’”

“Oh, yeah,” I laughed. “I know it. That seedy strip club on the Downtown East Side.”

“Yes!” my new friend exclaimed. “My boss, the owner, was so nice. He gave me an old Jeep while I was living there. I cleaned the bar at night shift and studied in the daytime. After some time he gave me new job that was underground from the bar. I was making those pills of drugs for him. How do you call it? Ecstasy?

“Yeah, I believe it’s called ecstasy,” I answered, very entertained.

“Yes. It was a very good job. I love Vancouver.”

We shared some more waves and small talk in the lineup throughout that day. He was a really nice and excited little guy. The following day, he was back on the bus to Guadalajara and I never saw him again. But I’ll always remember the guy I met in the lineup at a remote Mexican point break who worked at a shady East Side strip joint while he was studying English in Canada and got promoted to pressing ecstasy pills in the basement.

Captive: A short by Dano Pendygrasse

Old friend, former maker of snowboard careers and all around good human being recently put together this short film. Titled, Captive, this was entirely shot from his beautiful condo in downtown Vancouver. About the process of shooting a short entirely from a box in the sky, Dano said,

I’ve always believed that when you apply limitations to your process that the result is creativity. For the first year of my career I shot with nothing but a 50mm lens and as a result I found ways to solve the problems that arose from that. Limiting the physical space that I allowed myself to use photos from was a new way to define the boundaries of this project.

Take a look-see and enjoy his newly found filmmaking prowess and well seasoned photographic eye.

While this short is filled with an incredible amount of beauty from a single location, one comedic highlight to watch for at the end is the gentleman on the balcony in his bright red grape smugglers. I went over to Dano's to sit with him and his lovely lady, Kim, over a morning coffe. There he was! Combing his hair with an afro pick in front of a mirror on the balcony. For an hour. The man stood there for a complete hour combing his hair. Apparently this is routine, and I for one feel Dano's property value should increase on account of this. If not, this world is not one I want to be a part of.

For more of Dano's work, visit his website here or like his Facebook page if you know what's good for your newsfeed.