Jodie Ponto Photography

Recently I found myself on an epic purge that saw me delete the entire contents of my cellular device’s received text message storage box. I also found that a great deal of these messages, when taken straight from the text box and out of context, were pretty freakin’ hilarious and sometimes seemed downright dirty.  Perhaps you’ll recognize yourself or someone you know in these quotes.

“Tap my ass and call me Sheila!” – 1:55am, October 15, 2009

“Are you going to shave me dry Barbarella?” – 1:57am, October 15, 2009

“Merry Friggin’ Christmas.” – 11:58am, December 25, 2009

“It’s a curth, I know – I’ve had to start drinking testosterone and watching monster truck racing.” – 9:40pm, January 28, 2010

“Knees are a bit sore but all positive. I need to keep working on my rhythm.” – 1:59am, February 17, 2010

“Pull him into the rest room and lick his beautiful face for me.” – 8:51pm, March 6, 2010

“In the parking lot sucking cock.” – 10:53pm, March 12, 2010

“I think I’m going to have to revoke a spandex permit or two here at the Hair Bin.” – 2:43pm, April 3, 2010

“I like your attitude. You are today’s recipient of the flattering legwear award.” – 2:57pm, April 3, 2010

“I just bought a pair of sequined purple shorts at a garage sale!!!!!!!!!!” – 2:18pm, May 29, 2010

“P.S. I’m watching Dirty Dancing.” – 5:42pm, June 5, 2010

“I ate an entire box of Kraft Dinner because I was so depressed you didn’t call. BTW, it was white cheddar ” – 9:46pm, July 4, 2010

“Finnish my chocolate milk.” – 1:14pm, July 20, 2010

“Remind me to send you the next installment of Wladyko’s erotica. you’re in it too!” – 7:50pm, August 4, 2010

“I just stepped outside the library and realized that this is the ugliest fucking town around. And I’m not even in a bad mood, it just is …” – 6:46pm, August 12, 2010

“U better get ur sweet ass 2 that bus station now!” – 8:09am, August 15, 2010

Recently I spent some time in Demmitt, Alberta where the Cultural Society is in the midst of timber framing a brand spankin’ new community centre.

In amongst cultivating my cake baking skills and indulging in a romance with the outdoor shower I spent my time admiring square dancing club relics from the days of yore on the walls of the old community hall.

And finally, my personal favorite, the shrine to the local Johnny Cash of square dance callers:

Once upon some 4 or 5 odd years ago I returned from living in Victoria to discover a concert given by an independent Canadian musician named Rob Szabo in my formerly devoid of such things hometown. Reading an old notebook from the time I find sentimental sentences like: “Holy shit. That honest and intense show and Szabo’s super-smile made me want to quit whatever it is I’m doing and high-tail it to some nerve center of free-flowing passion & happiness & creativity and I suppose basically just give a shit about something”.

Once upon 2 summers ago I was gifted an old 35mm camera and shortly after receiving it took it along as my date to a house concert given by the aforementioned Szabo.

Anyways,  all I’m trying to say here is that Rob Szabo is both the first musician who inspired me and the first musician I photographed.

Rob Szabo Circa Jodie’s Camera 2008

Rob Szabo Circa Jodie’s Camera 2010

This handsome hound here is Darby.

He likes long walks along the river, chewing on the thigh bones of large wild animals, and going to bed early to snuggle.

And as far as I know lady canines … he’s single.

Right out of that unassuming face comes a voice that could add a whole new verse to Jizz in My Pants.

(Photos of Steve Brockley at Egan’s Pub on August 20, 2010).

I’ve joined the ranks of camera creeps who stalk innocent kittens around their owners’ apartments with the conviction that because she’s a feline, not a human, I won’t be issued a restraining order.

The city of Fort St. John’s final summer installment of the Music That Moves You project took a maniacal turn last night as the bus that the music was to move on was hijacked by local bookshop proprietor Henry See, who has evidently been spending too much time down the rabbit hole.

Raving like a rabid hatter, See forced the bus and its occupants on an hour long loopity-loop of the city, all the while ranting about being the reincarnation of Saint John and flailing and wailing about how he was on a quest to be reunited with his long lost true love Saint Jill.

Music That Moves You host Mark Bodner was finally able to subdue See, who was let out at The Condill after he was convinced that his sweet Saint Jill would be waiting for him there with open arms and a steak sandwich.

For the record, Lindsay Pratt is the woman I would marry if:

1.) She would let me have the occasional fling with the pool boy,

2.) She didn’t already have a manfriend, and

3.) She wasn’t moving to the Kootenays.

However, this love has not blinded me to fact that something strange, something suscpicious, and maybe even something downright supernatural occurred at her Going Away Bash at Tim n’ Tycs in Fort St. John yesterday night.

A fierce force was unleashed in the finale of her set, suddenly firing off a superstorm and causing lighting to strike the pole across the street, in turn killing the power and prompting a impromptu candle-lit acoustic show.

I know over the years many people have speculated about the possibility of Lindsay Pratt being a witch, what with her night black hair and banshee cackle and affection for brooms. Now, I’m not claiming she was stirring up spells in her cauldron or suggesting we rush right out and burn her … I’m just laying out the witchy facts and photos for you so you can make your own judgments on whether she should be taken to the stones, stocks, or stakes.

Staying hidden in the shadows so we don’t see her true face?

Have you ever met a human being who lets out such supernatural wails before?

Summoning up the superstorm with subtle secret hand spells?

Basking in the winds of the superstorm she created?

This summer I collected a few clips that answer the perplexing question of how one keeps fit, has fun, and maintains a svelte girlish figure while on the road.