Day 455: We finally drop the Trailer.

No this is not some post to direct you to my other work, this for once, is actual information about what you were following this blog for back in 2012... wow has it really been that long? 455 days since I left Nova Scotia at the end of our second lobster shoot on the south shore. I'm looking back on it now and it actually seems like forever ago. And now I live here. I live in the province I was just going to for a filming trip. Because the story's out here. It's not back in Ontario, or our on the prairies, it's here in the maritimes.

It's pretty wild to think about it, this little lobster story has become such a huge part of my life. I can't get away from it, every time I think we're done chasing leads or funding or that we know everything, more stuff comes in. New interested backers, new places to go, new stories to cover always when you least expect it. For a long 10 months Brad was doing it on his own out here, hitting interviews and covering things like the PEI lobster fishermen strike. He was covering this thing the whole time. Even since I've been here we've gone on another trip down to the south shore to shoot as well as PEI and we're planning to go to Grand Manan Island in New Brunsick next month! We've got a more complete picture of the Lobster industry than we ever had back in 2012. I dare say we're getting to be experts on the industry. And even when we don't know the answer to our own questions, we always know where to go to find out. We have become the "lobster documentary guys" out here and we've even got people coming to us, offering to be interviewed and documented. Even stranger still, we have to turn some of them down!

Yes it's been a long, long road. And it looks like it will be longer still, we have a whole years worth of shoot dates lined up for our documentary, and are tentatively hoping to release Lobsterland, early next year. Yes you heard me right Lobsterland. It's our new title for the project, while originally we called it Lobster Inc, that title really doesn't quite capture the right feel for our story anymore. In fact if I'm not mistaken we were always of the impression that Lobster Inc. was a working title anyway, a simple play off of documentaries like Food Inc. But Lobsterland is all for real. Becuase this story, as it unfolds seems less about some industrial machine, and more about the people and the places where lobster is caught. That's what really hangs in the balance here, lobster will always be fished, but the manner in which it continues to be fished will have a massive impact on the communities were our lobster fishermen live, Lobster-land, if you will. That's what's at stake. That's why our title is what it is.

And so, with all of this in mind I have spent the last 2 months working on a trailer. As we go through all our footage and line up new shoot dates, we needed something to show people. We needed an accurate portrayal of what we were doing, because our previous trailer is almost 2 years old and doesn't fit the bill at all. It's too heavy handed, has poor quality video, doesn't portray the reality we now know to be the truth and we stopped showing it to people almost as soon as we got out here last time.

No, what we needed was the real deal, a real trailer that tells everyone the kind of movie, LobsterLand is going to be. We've been quiet too long! So here it is: The Lobsterland Official Trailer!

Looking Up: The Matt Brisby Story

So I'm heading back out east tomorrow to work on the Lobster documentary with Brad. But we're also going to be starting our own production company, tentatively named Flow Productions which, as you can tell doesn't have much beyond a domain name right now but It'll soon be a vast and insurmountable media empire (here's hoping). So as we continue to follow the story of the Lobsters and the men who fish them I'll be posting here (expect an update in about a week). But I'll also be writing about my day to day activities, about projects we have going on, and whatever else enters my world over on my new non-fiction, weekly blog: Looking Up: The Matt Brisby Story . Which promises to bring you all the latest in what's in my brain and around my peripherals. Hopefully you'll read and enjoy. I promise It'll go farther than two posts and I think it'll be far less melancholy than any other blog I've started and asked you to care about.

So, please head over and check it out and subscribe.

Thanks, be good to each other.

Matt

The Long Drop

I told you all I'd keep you updated on any upcoming blog I'm working on. I've just posted the first in several chapters of my new fictional blog "The Long Drop" If you've enjoyed my writing style, feel free to check it out over at http://longdropstory.blogspot.ca/ 

Hopefully it's to your liking!

For more updates on Lobster inc. remember to check out our facebook page.

Peace

Matt

Day 24: The Journey pt. 3

We never did end up going to sleep yesterday. after we got back we kept talking and joking until 2 am, and by that point, as Mike was planning on being at the airport for 4:30, we decided to just stay up and sleep on the plane.

Brad drove us to the airport.

He's going to be staying here on his own, to try to keep the magic going. He's going to keep following the story and chasing down leads, as well as trying to nail down some government funding. He's got the heart, and the drive to make it happen.

We all do. But I've given it all I can this stint. I've pored more resources into this trip than I can really afford and I took the flight back because if I didn't I'd be stranded here with no money at all in a couple weeks with no way home. I'm not giving up. How could I? This story has become a major passion for me and I intend to see it all the way through, and I'm going to do everything I can on my end to try to make it happen.

Mike feels the same. But he's trying to hold down two jobs as well, so he is needed elsewhere as well.

When we arrived at the airport I gave Brad a hug and wished him good luck. He's taking a massive risk, and betting on himself. I respect that very much.

Once inside the terminal, Mike and I parted ways, planning on seeing each other in a week or two.

I could go into detail about my flight back, but it's really not that entertaining, and not really what I'm here to talk about at all.

What I want to talk about is how amazing this experience was for me. I learned so much about not only the ins and outs of the Lobster Fishing industry, I learnt a lot about myself. I learnt the value of trying something no matter what the consequences are. I learnt how real scallops taste. I learnt how the attitude of one person can change an entire production. I learnt a better work ethic. I learnt that for some reason, over over a hundred people have been reading the posts I've been putting up, God love you all.

My blog may be going on a hiatus until I return to NS (hopefully as soon as possible), but please don't let any intrest in the Lobster industry, or Lobster inc you may have acquired here grow stale. Look into what's happening out here. Pay attention. It all starts here.

Thank you so much for reading every day I put these up, and giving me such great feedback when I needed it most. I feel I've grown a lot by being out here, and this blog has been a big part of that, so thank you.

I also want to thank the many people who allowed us to stay with them/eat there food/let us into their lives. Thank you PJ, Carl, Lucien, Frank, James, Kevin, Vern, Liliana, Dwight, Samaira, Jessie, Sonny, Blaire, Kristien, Stephen, and everyone else who helped us along the way.

It's true what they say. East coasters are the nicest people on earth, without you we'd never be doing what we are.

-Matt

P.S. Totes saw Rex Murphey on my flight.

Day 24: Our Trio's Down to Two

Today opened up with a call to PJ. As probably our most useful contact out here, and the man with which we'd spent the most time with, it was odd that we'd gone all this time without getting a sit-down interview with him, and with Brad on the boat, Mike and I needed to fill our day with shooting ourselves. I had wanted to get a sit-downer with PJ for a while and It was ironic that I had to wait until my director was on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and it I was on my last day in Nova Scotia, before  I finally got to do it.

PJ has a bit of a reputation (some might say deserved) for being hard to rein in. He does offer up ideas and conversation topics faster than almost any other person I've met, and it can be hard to get him to focus on one thing long enough for you to, say, shoot it. I was expecting that that's what I'd be in for on the shoot today, but I was pleasantly surprised, PJ was ready for us when we arrived and took all the direction we gave him very well. We were down a camera, as it was on the boat, but the shot we had of PJ looked great in the natural light of the morning. It was a great way to wrap up shooting.

But in classic PJ fashion, he wasn't going to let us go out the door without giving us a contact to chase down.

And chase it we did.

PJ's contact lead us to "Fisherman's Market" a Lobster buyer/retailer/distributor and we made several contacts there for Brad to chase down in the coming weeks.

We then arrived back in Lower Sackville to offload the rest of our footage from today and the day before, before we made the trip to Wedgeport Warf to pick up brad.

The drive down to the southern tip of NS was easier today, as I fueled my body with copious amounts of Mountain Dew, gamer fuel has never let me down.

We arrived at the harbour to find Brad in one piece, surprisingly alert and well rested and in a great mood. Turns out he's pretty much immune to motion sickness and got some amazing footage that truly is the cherry on top of the sunday that has been our shoot. The drive back was filled with more laughter than we've had in a few days. As Mike remarked, "Boys, life is good."

It is.

This place has been great to us. Tomorrow two of us leave, but only for now.

I'll be back. No question.

I'll sign off for good tomorrow. Not home yet.

-Matt

Day 22 & 23: Dumping Day

This one's a dousie, buckle up.

Monday had arrived, the day we were going to drive down to Wedgeport and finally get out on the ocean. Originally the plan was for all three of us to spend two days on Cpt. Lucien LeBlanc's boat the John Harold, to film him, his crew, and as many of the other 1688 boats in the same waters as we would be as we could. However we soon learned, after our first call of the day to Lucien, that There was only room for one extra on his fishing boat. this meant we had to nominate one of us to go, while the other two shot b-roll for the same two days. We nominated Brad, not a tough decision, as he is the Director, but also not hard because we'd heard many, many tales of how bad seasickness on the Atlantic can get, and I for one, was not down for that.

It wasn't all bad news because as we were soon to discover, there would be some amazing scenery waiting for Mike and I once we got down there, but more on that in a bit.

As for the morning, Brad and I headed into Halifax once again, this time to pickup a Lav Mic, that we'd convinced a local production company (Pink Dog Productions) to let us borrow for a couple days. It took a while to find, but we did eventually. It was nice to meet some fellow media folks with some similar interests (Pink Dog works primarily with not for profit organizations), and the extra mic is a huge bonus.

By the time all that was done it was another hour after we got back before we left for Wedgeport, there was a lot of gear to pack up and Brad had to make sure he was stocked up on every motion sickness remedy he could find in the drug store. the drive ahead was to take around 4 hours, and as Brad was feeling a bit drowsy from the motion sickness patch on his neck, I was to be the driver. Normally that'd be fine, but the drive from Sackville to Wedgeport is pretty much a straight shot on the highway, there's no need to even turn until you reach Wedgeport, and it was dark out, a perfect recipe for a very drowsy Matt Brisby at the wheel. I was fighting the urge to just close my eyes pretty hard, eventually I had to make the others entertain me and keep me engaged in conversation. That seemed to do the trick. By the time we reached the warf Lucien had directed us too, it was about 8 o'clock, and night had fully fallen.

It seems to be an accidental tradition on this journey, that we always arrive in the best parts of the world at night.

Lucien met us at the entrance to the warf (after we'd accidentally driven into about 3 private driveways, and yards, thinking they were the warf) and we quickly loaded our gear onto the small motor boat that would take us to the LeBlanc family private warf and "camp" on a place called Big Tuscant Island. The ride was cold, dark, wet and about 15 minutes long, with waves of salt water pounding us as Lucien piloted our craft to a location unknown to his passengers. Every time a really big wave hit us, we were all sprayed with salt water, (a tast that I still have on my lips after showering just moments ago!). We couldn't see much as the high winds had pushed a lot of cloud cover over the Islands surrounding us, blocking out, for the most part, the glorious full moon that would occasionally peek through the clouds as if to remind us of it's own presence.

Then we pulled into the harbour area (for lack of a better term), which was made up of over a dozen private warfs, sticking out into the low evening tide like small wooden cliffs, each one with one or more 30-40 foot fishing boat, packed to the gunnels with around 400 baited lobster traps, moored to them. We'd heard about how full the boats would be, but these boats exceded our visual expectations. There was not a single square foot of space on the deck of any boat that was not occupied by a trap, excuse me, a stack of traps, usually between 4 and 6 traps high! Ropes were tied all around, weaving in every direction over the traps and the boat itself like the vines on the side of X-mansion (or Wayne Manor if you prefer). The warfs themselves were attached to two separate Islands that ran about 500 meters apart from each other for about a 1 and a half kilometer stretch. At the time it felt like a dark wet street of boats.

As we drove along this stretch in Lucien's motorboat, he pointed out his boat to us, the boat his father had bought in 1981, the John Harold. It was on the smaller side of the boats docked, but not the smallest by far, probably about 32 feet long, this proud old, white vessel was packed just like the others, but with one difference; one of the bunks below deck bunks was going to be filled with some 23 year old from Ontario, who'd never been on a boat before, trying to work a camera and probably puke his guts out at the same time.

Lucien docked us next to the John Harold and we climbed up the retractable ramp (has to be to deal with the massive tides) until we were finally on the warf itself. Once up there I got a much better view of my surroundings. Each one of the warfs I'd seen on my ride in (with the exception of one) was connected in some for or another to a small cottage, or "camp" where the fishermen could eat, sleep and prepare to go out on the water. None of the camps were large, the largest probably being the size of a greyhound bus, but each one has running water (though not drinkable), Heat (via wood stoves) and electricity. These camps are usually "staffed" with a cook in each of them, usually a relative (most of the time female) during the days in the season when the fishermen are due to come back. After a rough two days at sea, with little to no sleep, and mediocre at best sustenance, the last thing any fishermen wants is to have to try to cook a meal (also I'd say most of them can't cook very well at the best of times).

These cooks and the camps they reside in on, not only the Tuscant Islands, but many other islands in the area, play a vital role in the livelihoods of the fishermen who have access to them. It saves most captains and their crew a lot of time to have their own warf about an hour away from the nearest major port. It makes them closer to their fishing grounds than most of their competitors. They also get a head start on dumping day because they're already so far out.

It's also really, really cool.

Lucien took us from the warf into his camp, telling us to be careful not to wake his crew, as they had worked extremely hard that day and would all be getting up at 5 am to get a head start on what would be an extremely hard haul and they obviously needed all the rest they could get. Lucien himself needed rest, he told us as we entered that, "I hope you won't think I'm tired but I'm tired as all hell, so I'll be going to bed, like, now." We certainly didn't begrudge him of that. How could you? The man's been working like the dickens for a week straight, and he's about to work even harder! Go for it Lucien, sleep all you can. The inside of the camp was tight, it had a mud room as you entered, filled with the coats and waterproof, winterized, very used bodysuits of the crewmen, and the water heater. There was also a small bathroom, with a tiny shower, a decent sized kitchen, a small living room (Complete with crystal clear satellite TV! Don't ask me how that works, my phone stopped having reception hours before) as well as a flight of steep stairs that lead up to a room full of bunks and a cook's bedroom on the bottom floor.

Once inside we were introduced to the John Harold's cook. None other than Lucien's father, former captain of the aforementioned seafaring vessel, Kevin LeBlanc. Kevin is a great guy to be around. He and his family have been around fishing boats their entire lives, and have been involved in not only fishing on them but also building and repairing boats, the warfs they dock at and the camps they call their own. Kevin is a man full of stories, like Carl, but much more wholesome, Kevin spun yarns of the days when his father and grandfather and brothers all fished from the island we were standing on, which even in the dark looked majestic. We talked with Kevin long after Lucien had gone to bed, and even after Kevin had gone to his room to sleep, we stayed up helping brad come up with ideas for shot to get on the boat, in between bouts of hurling, obviously. Then at around 9:30 we snuck up stairs to bed. I found a top bunk right next to the stairs and as I was lying there listening to the wind roaring around this tiny little cottage I thought about how wild it was that I was where I was, how far this journey had taken me, and how glad I was that I wasn't the one going on a fishing boat for 48 hours.

* * *

The next morning I awoke to the sound and smell of cooking bacon wafting up the stairs mixed with the ever-present aroma of salt water and fish. It definitely wasn't the light that woke me, it was still dark, because I was up slightly early at quarter to five. I mean, only early relative to the crew, Kevin had been up since 4 and Mike had gotten up at 2 to film the moon and the boats sitting ready in the warfs. But soon enough Brad and Lucien's crew were up and mowing down the awesome breakfast of bacon, scrambled eggs, fish cakes (fried mash potato, onions and haddok in pan fried pucks the size of an english muffin), orange juice, fresh coffee (a highlight of any morning), OJ and buttered english muffins. It was awesome. I ate it this morning, and I want to eat in again right now. 

Once we ate, Dumping day began.

At  twenty to six we joined the crew as they headed down to the warf to prep the boat as much as they could so that they could be one of the fist ones out of the gate at 6 am, the time at which you are permitted to leave your warf, (any earlier and you could face hefty fines). Mike was manning his camera while I scouted the area for different shots and helped brad get his gear onto the boat. It was very cold, I again was thankfully I was not going on the boat, because after 5 minutes after being outside, it became painfully obvious to me that thin cloth sneakers were not ideal oceaneering footwear. however the rest of me was kept warm as I had several layers on, as well as gloves a hat and a scarf I found in the car. 

Then came the moment when we said our goodbyes to Brad as he stepped onto the boat the final time, he looked excited, but excited in the way that, he's trying to burry his nerves in excitement. We wished him well, told him to stay safe and headed to the furthest warf toward the open ocean and set up our camera. The stuff we got was hauntingly beautiful, the full moon was shining a bright yellow, having shaken the clouds that had been strangling it mere hours before, and the wind had died down to almost nothing leaving the water inside the cove glassy and flat, disturbed only by the boats that powered their way through it, laden heavy with empty Lobster pots. We watched all the boats go out from the harbour, we could even see the lights of the boats leaving from Pubnico, and Wedgeport in the distance. I was struck by how big of an operation it was, 1688 plus boats all heading out to the same water, all at once, all in the dark, with edgy, motivated crew members and their livelihoods on the line.

All to drag some bug off the ocean floor.

After we watched the boats leave, we took some time to offload the footage we just shot, whilst setting up the camera to get a time-lapse shot of the sunrise that broke cleanly over the treetops of a far off point of Big Tuscant Island. Inside, Kevin told us many more stories and factoids and we decided to put it all on camera, and interviewed him about his life, his son's profession and this weird red invertebrate that has spawned entire industries. 

As the sun came up and daylight kissed the land around us it became abundantly clear just how beautiful the place we were standing was. The sea stretched out infront of us, wild and untamed, smashing into the rock that was the Island we were on. The grass was long, windswept and soft as moss. The only sound to be heard out there is the wind and the sea. It's a loud silence that makes you stop in your tracks and marvel at your surroundings. It was so different than anywhere I've ever been in my life before. I could have stayed there for years. 

Kevin was going to be our ride to the mainland again, but just like Carl and PJ before him, before he let us go, he had some things to show us. We were more than glad to see them. First was a trip across the gap between warfs to meet Kevin's neighbour, Vincent, an 81 year old who had literally been born in a light house on an island, and his wife of 63 years, Pauline, who was cooking for their son his crew, a captain like Lucien and his crew. Vincent was funny and Pauline was lovely and offered us delicious cookies. 

After those two Kevin took us in the motorboat (aptly named the Ho-bo Go-Go) around all the neighboring islands, they all had awesome names like Mud Island, Strawberry Island, Sheep Island, and each one had a history behind them, some had been old fishing spots, others had been Native burial sites, one even had a church on it. Just a church. Must be quite the commute on sunday mornings. 

He pointed out light houses and shanties and shacks and warfs he'd help build. He then took us to the other cottage that His family owned, also very small, this one lacked both power and running water, but it had a view that I can't even hope to try to describe. It was probably the prettiest thing I've ever seen.

Once we got to the mainland Kevin took us around in his truck showing us his family's homes, the boat building plant that he and his brothers had owned until very recently as well as his own home and the immense shed he'd built himself (he was keen on showing us all the amazing things he'd built) which housed the biggest collection of hand restored axes and hammers I've ever seen, a hobby he'd picked up after he stopped fishing in 1999 and passed his boat on to, first another captain for a few years, but then his son in 2007. Each tool was not only restored to it's full former glory, but each was engraved with an individual carving, or burning. It was really cool and I wish I took pictures of it.

Finally we parted ways with Kevin and began the long road back to Lower Sackville, stopping along the way to get b-roll of Digby and Bedford.

It's been a long day and a lot happened, tomorrow we'll be doing more shooting as well as picking brad up from the warf in Wedgeport at 8, hopefully he's still in one piece.

Ah, it feels good to shoot again.

-Matt

P.S. Kevin reminds me of an Acadian version of my dad... who's built more boats.  

Days 18 - 22: Arrivals and Departures

Wednesday Morning found us preparing for a meeting with Jana Mcgreggor, an independent marketing consultant who PJ had introduced us to. It was our second meeting with someone from a more business perspective in two days, and I for one was a little apprehensive. Our meeting with Paul the day before had been really informative, but for me it had been a little discouraging to see just how far we'd have to go, and how little we have to do it with. However my nerves were calmed significantly during the meeting as Jana proved, to be not only knowledgeable about what our needs are, but also came with a much more positive attitude. I know that Brad and Myles hadn't been perturbed by Paul's message the day before, but it had kind of gotten to me, and I don't know why, but for me, Jana gave me back a little of the motivation that I lost the day before.

After the meeting that morning we went back to Myles' Mom's house and did some editing before making the journey to Halifax that evening. There were two things we needed to accomplish there, the first was simply attending a concert that Myles was going to take pictures of for a magazine, the other was picking up our Director of Photography, and fourth member, Mike Zakrzewski from the airport. Mike's flight was supposed to get in at around midnight, and Myles' concert was going to take place at around 6 so the concert was the first thing we went to.

The venue was a place called "The Pavilion" which is basically a small box of a building in the middle of a park, that seems to be in place solely to provide a space for local musicians to play all ages gigs with ease. It resembled many of the venues that I went to see shows at in high school, a smallish back room, with almost as many people standing outside waiting for the band they wanted to see most perform, as there are people inside. The music was raw and heavy hardcore rock, very much in my wheel house, but Brad, being an old man at heart, was really not into the drop d tuning, breakdowns, screaming and the aggressive thrashing of the audience. So upon his insistance, we left Myles to his photography and found a small pub where we could have a pint, watch The Raptors, and flirt with the bar maids (they didn't seem to mind).

After the concert was over we left for the airport and waited around for about an hour after we found out his flight was delayed. We spent the time wandering around the Halifax airport at 1 am, a weird experience, as everyone you see at any airport at that time (when all the over-priced stores and restaurants are closed) looks like death warmed over, passed out on benches and at tables, looking like all they want most in the world is for someone to tell them that it'll all be ok in the end. A bit macabre, but that was what was going through my head.

But after a while Mike finally arrived. Telling us tales of his work at CTV, courtroom drama, and some Baseball trade that everyone in Ontario seems excited about (It's hard to really follow sports when you don't always have access to a TV or the internet). Mike was part of the first expedition made out here, Brad and Myles and Mike came out here in July and found out about this crazy tale we're trying to uncover, and he wanted to be with us for this adventure, but sometimes work can make following your passions a little bit more difficult. Mike's commitment to this project is tremendous and the skills and experience he brings to the table are going to be invaluable as both him and I face our last week (for him I guess his only) week out in beautiful Nova Scotia.


That's right, it's my last week. I've booked a flight back for the 29th. As much as I want to stay longer, like Brad is planning to do, I don't have the means to support myself for very much longer, So I'm coming back while I can still afford to. Brad's plan is to stay and try to secure funding, as well as for those of us back home to get a crowd funding campaign together for us to come back again very soon.

But more about that on a later date.


Mike kept us entertained all night long with stories, jokes, great conversation and music, while we briefed him on everything that'd happened to us, and all the new facts we've discovered this time around (and when I say all night, I mean that we ended up going to bed when it was daylight again). Mike was in our class at Conestoga, and seeing him again brought back memories of all the great times we shared, and It's always great to see someone after a long time apart so you can hardly be surprised we didn't go to sleep until our bodies completely shut down.

After we awoke (after not nearly enough sleep) we set out for Middleton and Myles' Grammy Jessie's house again, not only had we promised we'd return before we left, but Jessie had made chowder that night, an incentive if I've ever heard one. We ate the delicious Chowder and stayed the night, because we had an appointment tomorrow morning at Myles' old middle school to announce the winner of a contest that the others had started last time they were out here. The contest was to deign the cover of the DVD case for Lobster inc and the contestants were all grade 6 through 8 students at Myles' former school.

The next day when we went into the school, I had a lot of flashbacks to my own schooling, and remarked that I never thought I'd be back in a Grade 7 math class, but that on the whole it wasn't that surprising that I was. We announced a winner and a runner up and stuck around for some Q & A with the students and teachers, but within an hour we had left. the rest of the afternoon was spent playing basketball with Myles' little brother Ryan out in the driveway, and all three of us who were playing with him (Myles had chosen to abstain) realizing just how out of shape we really are (very).

That day was also Myles' last day with us before leaving for his brothers wedding in Cuba. Luckily, even though he may be gone, his mom and stepdad have offered us their basement to stay in for as long as we need it. Honestly the generosity of the people out here is mind blowing, and we're forever grateful to those who've agreed to not only put up with us, but to feed us as well. Seriously, if you're ever traveling to the east coast, don't pay for a hotel, just meet some locals, the rooms may be smaller, but the service and food are infinitely better. Myles has been with us all month and without him it would have been a lot harder to do things with only two people, good thing we've got Mike.

I've talked a lot about how we're editing and researching mostly lately, and that's definitely true, but tomorrow we're going to be back in the saddle again. We're going back to Lucien's pad, and he's taking us on a lobster boat. Finally, after a month of making a documentary about fishing, we're actually going to go. We're pretty excited to finally get back to shooting, it's really what we came here to do, and all the business work, and editing, and research is important, but at our core, we're all cinematographers, and sitting on the edge of these beautiful shores and not being able to point a camera at it was always somewhat unsetting.

But for tonight, we're going to work on our crowd funding campaign, and maybe find somewhere to watch the Grey Cup.

Go Argos.

-Matt

P.S. GO COLTS! #chuckstrong