Context Is God

Interesting experience on the subway this morning on the way to work. I got on and sat down near a door. There was a 30-something black man standing in the doorway area, to my immediate right. Kind of diminutive, casually dressed, sweats and a wind breaker, maybe. I thought at first that he was talking to someone, but after I sat down, I realized that he was actually preaching the Gospel. Well, not the Gospel per se, he was going on about how we should trust in the Lord Jesus, etc. How if we did so, our families would benefit, our husbands and wives, if they were sick in the hospital, would get cured... etc. Y'know, the usual stuff.

I didn't feel like moving away though. I sat there and listened. It was something to listen to anyway. But I kept my eyes on the floor in front of me; didn't want to risk eye contact out of fear that he might single me out for personal attention. However, at one part I almost raised my hand to make a point. He was saying how God had never turned his back on us, and I thought "What about the Flood? That wasn't very nice. Sure Noah and his family made out okay, but everyone else was pretty much screwed." But I maintained my floor vigil. Wasn't the time or place to be engaging in scriptural debate.

I noticed, however, that he seemed to be dwelling on the theme of turning to God in order to get sick family members cured. "Our wives, our husbands..." he kept saying. Made me wonder if perhaps he had lost someone, and maybe that's what set him off on this subway sermonizing. It wasn't like he was outwardly crazy, not like one of those nutty-eyed sidewalk preachers, the one's that stand on soapboxes and use megaphones. No, this guy seemed releatively normal... except for the fact that he was preaching loudly to morning commuters on the Danforth subway line. But it wasn't doom and destruction, it was "turn to Jesus and he will make your life better." Very here and now. Positive. Faith.

What struck me though, was that the only thing that defined this guy as a "nut", was the context that he was in. Take him out of the Thursday morning subway and plunk him down behind a Sunday morning pulpit... and suddenly he becomes a rather effective, and likely respectable preacher. And, really, where is he more needed? Literally preaching to the pew-assed converted on Sunday? Or out there among the rush hour zombies? Gives the phrase "mass transit" a whole new meaning.

But I guess that's par for the course: behaviours that are totally acceptable in one context are completely inappropriate in another. Like the other day when I was peeing in my office...

Oh but that's a story for another time.

That's Better

Much better result at Ball Hockey tonight: we won 5-0... and I scored my first goal! Yay! Not a pretty one. I just zoomed up the middle, passed it back to our defenceman and then went to right side of the net, he took a shot that may have hit someone in front, then went to one of our guys on the other side of the net, his shot was stopped by the goalie, but the rebound dropped right in front of me and I just poked it in the open side. Felt good to finally pot one. It was the 3-0 goal, too, which was, of course, the pivotal goal that broke the other team's spirit. Of course. Ahem.

I almost scored another one later on, pretty much the same play, but I totally flubbed it. Gak!

It was nice to get the shut-out for our goalie too; he played great. We still only had 7 guys show up, but everyone seemed to play really well tonight for some reason. Woo!

Starting to get to know a few of the guys a little bit and they seem like a pretty good bunch of guys for the most part. Most seem in their 30s. They play hard, but don't take it too seriously. I'm sure there'll be some apres game beers at the Court Jester as the summer progresses.

I repeat... woo!

Con-template-ing the change

I like my new template ñ it looks real nice on my home 'puter, whether it's because of OS X or the fact that I use Explorer, I don't know ñ but it doesn't look nearly as nice through Netscape (on my work computer, also a Mac), or maybe it's OS 9 or below. The grey panel that runs down the right side is not even there, and the list of links is awkwardly left-aligned. And for some strange reason, the blogdex link is dead and followed by a big space. Looks fine in OS X/Explorer. I checked the code, and there doesn't appear to be anything that should be causing this. Maybe I should try re-doing it, could be a ghost character in there or something.

Oh well, you can't have everything... where would you put it? (thank you Steven Wright).

That reminds of what I'm always tempted to say to cashiers when they ask "Is that everything?"
I always wanna say "No, I can't afford to buy everything, nor do you sell it. Until such time, I'd just like to buy these few items."

I'm not that snarky though. My mind is... but I'm not.

Careful With That App Eugene

Still one of the funniest sites on the web.

eugenemirman.com

Click through to the films (The "new by Eugene" link near the top right). Some of them are pretty funny, especially the New Media Video.

"Careful with that bayonette soldier"

Naked flyboys get away clean

I knew our armed forces were under-equipped, but...

Played ball hockey tonight at Withrow after missing last week because I got the time wrong (showed up for what I believed was a scheduled 8:30 game, only to learn that it had been at 7:30. Oops.)

We suffered a dispiriting 8-4 defeat tonight. We only had 7 guys show up, likely thanks to the Leafs playoff game on TV. So that means only 2 subs. We played pretty well in the first period ñ after falling behind 2-0 we clawed back to tie it and then went ahead 3-2. But our diminished manpower caught up with us, and we just didn't have the gas to keep the legs running in the 2nd period (we play two 20-minute periods).Of course the other team didn't have much of a roster either, but they played better together, and just gave it more.

Kind of glad that the Leafs are now out of the playoffs. At least from here on in maybe we'll get a full team out. Next game is Thursday at 8.

I've added some links, over there on the right. Friends' blogs, web pages, sites of interest, etc. Word Wizard is a pretty cool site, though I admit I haven't yet really explored it thoroughly. But any place subtitled "For lovers of the English language" can't be bad.

Then there's Dictionary.com, which has some cool tools, such as buttons you can add to your browser's toolbar which give you access to dictionary and thesaurus searches.

Word.

The new template's here!! The new template's here!! :-)

Tick Talk

Yay! The Tick lives!

I had lost track of the big blue animated crime-busting lug. The Fox Channel used to have The Tick on Saturday mornings, and it was one of the few things that would get me out of bed before noon on a Saturday. Then it went over to Comedy Central, but after 3 seasons it got cancelled.

But there it was on TV last Thursday night when I was at Rancho Relaxo. It was The Tick vs. The Breadmaster episode, a synopsis of which can be found on this Tick fan page, and which contains some classic Tick-isms, such as "Not baked goods, professorÖBaked Bads!", and "Breadmaster! Your culinary crimewave has crashed against the shores of justice!"

So it looks like the Teletoon channel (Ch.45 in Toronto) is now carrying the show at 11pm Tues-Thursday and at 8:30pm on Sundays.

Spoon!

Update

From alienated.net:
LIFELINE FOR ONE PUBLISHER MEANS POTENTIAL DEATH KNELL FOR MANY PUBLISHERS

Please add this link to your blog, and help spread awareness of this situation.

Just to clarify something. I posted earlier about the 12-minute Osymyso track "Intro Inspection", and may have given the impression that it's available for download from his site, but apparently it's not available there anymore. However, it and other "mash-ups" can be found here.

Et tu, Hotmail?

New Hotmail settings might share your info, addresses

I've gone into my Hotmail options and changed my settings, but I don't know if that's gonna help much. This kind of stuff really pisses me off.

What KaZaA conceals

If you use KaZaA file sharing software, you might want to read this:

CNN.com - KaZaA sneakware stirs inside PCs - May 7, 2002

"Consumer complaints erupted after the disclosure in April that KaZaA users are unknowingly downloading a "sleeper" program from Altnet, now a business partner of Sharman Networks, which recently acquired KaZaA software and the KaZaA.com Web site."

Pop Song & Lyric Hall Of Shame, pt.1

Part of my job at Columbia House is to proofread the magazines that I write copy for. Lately we've been featuring these compilations from various eras ñ Groovin' 60s, Greatest Hits Of The 70s, Awesome 80s, Best Of Singer-Songwriters, Super Soul Hits, etc. ñ and they tend to feature a lot of the same artists, and the same songs sometimes. So several times a day, I'm reminded of my candidate for the worst ever song title. It's by that most insipid of 1970s easy-listening pioneers, Bread ñ yes, as in David Gates And... The song is: Baby I'm-a Want You.

Now, I'm not one to quibble over the need for grammatical maleability when it comes to pop music lyrics or song titles. Sometimes, for the desired metre or rhythm of the lyric to be maintained, proper grammar simply has to take a back seat. It's a given. Its in the pop songwriter manifesto. (And with respect to that, thank god for the word 'ain't'. So many song lyrics just wouldn't fly if not for ain't. All hail ain't!)

But, really... Baby I'm-a Want You???

That's simply going too far. Oh, sorry... I'm-a say that's simply going too far. Even if he'd said "baby, I'm a-wantin' you"... even that is almost defensible. But it's the "I'm-a". Why hyphen the "a" to the "I'm"? That makes no sense whatsoever! Hall Of Shame for you!!

And that brings me to my Top 3 favourite examples of bad lyrics ñ and, incredibly enough, they're all from the same song! Yes, it's A Horse With No Name by America. I think whoever wrote these lyrics must have indeed been in the desert... on peyote!

First there's this shining example of lyrical brilliance:

The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

The heat was hot?? Go figure! I would-a thought the desert would have some of that cool heat we're all familiar with.

Then there's this grammatical gem:

In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain

Okay, as I stated above, I have no problem with the 'ain't', but ... but... no, I can't even speak of it. Let's just move on...

...to the real kicker, which is this piece of blazing eloquence:

On the first part of the journey I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things...

*screeeeeeech*

Things? There were... "things"?
Who would-a guessed that in the desert, one might find... things! Myself, I was under the distinct impression that desert eco-zones were devoid of... things. Will someone please get the National Geographic people on the phone? I can see the next issue's cover now: "Desert Expedition Uncovers Things!"

I can't think of a more deserving candidate for the Pop Song Lyric Hall Of Shame.

Can you?

Write on... man

Great news! I recently got word that my registration for Woodstock 2002 has been accepted! This is gonna be so cool. Three days of peace, love & music, man. Groovy people, far-out tunes. We shall dance in the sun, we shall slide in the mud, we shall make love under the stars, we shall avoid the brown acid, we shall change the worl...

What? ...Wordstock?

Oh... never mind.

It'll still be good though.

um... peace.

Bangers & Mashers

Check out this article from the New York Times, on the phenomenon of "mash-ups".

"Spreading by the Web, Pop's Bootleg Remix"

I had heard the wickedly brilliant remix on the Sopranos 2 soundtrack, Every Breath You Take/Theme From Peter Gunn (Mr. Ruggerio's Remix), which combines The Police hit with the Henry Mancini classic (unfortunately, the sound clip from the Columbia web page doesn't do it justice. You have to hear it from the beginning, where the two riffs merge), but I wasn't aware that this "mashing" thing was a widespread phenomenon, more popular in Europe, but catching on here in the new world.

So I hopped over to the web site mentioned in the NYT piece ñ Base58.com ñ to check out some of these mash-ups. I downloaded several, including Conway's "Smells Like Missy" which combines the guitar and rhythm track from "Smells Like Teen Spirit" with vocal tracks from Missy Elliott's "Get Ur Freak On".

But the one that really blows my mind, is Osymyso's "Intro Inspection" (extended version Jan 2002). Twelve minutes of Spot The Sample! But it's not just a bunch of disparate samples thrown together. It's a brilliant interweaving of musical strands that flows and ebbs and tickles your brain. There's one section, at around the 9:30 mark, that starts with the guitar riff from Free's "Alright Now", which then mutates into the guitar from "Teen Spirit" while blending the bass and rhythm track from "Stayin' Alive" and adding vocals from Desmond Dekker's "The Israelites". ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!

This just fills my brain with all sorts of little dancing music-lovin' endorphins.

Here's a list of the samples used:

Boney M - Rivers Of Babylon
The Troggs - Wild Thing
Lionel Richie - Hello
Simply Red - Fairground
Beatles - Hey Jude
Righteous Brothers - Unchained Melody
Ultravox - Vienna
Beach Boys - I Get Around
Soft Cell - Tainted Love
Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody
Bob Marley - No Woman No Cry
Elvis Presley - Hound Dog (You Aint Nothin But A)
Bran Van 3000 - Drinking In LA
Nena - 99 Red Balloons
Britney Spears - Baby One More Time
The Cure - The Love Cats
Lou Reed - A Walk On The Wild Side
Barry White - Can't Get Enough Of Your Love
Spandau Ballet - True
Shangri-Las - The Leader Of The Pack
Grandmaster Flash & The Furious 5 - The Message
Spice Girls - Wannabe
All Saints - Pure Shores
Survivor - Eye Of The Tiger
Flying Pickets - Only You
INXS - I Need You Tonight
Dexy's Midnight Runners - Come On Eileen
Fatboy Slim - Praise You
Men At Work - Down Under (unconfirmed)
M/A/R/R/S - Pump Up The Volume
Marvin Gaye - I Heard It Thru The Grapevine
Frankie Goes To Hollywood - Relax
KLF - 3am Eternal
Kylie Minogue - I Should Be So Lucky
Human League - Dont You Want Me
Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You
Gloria Gaynor - I Will Survive
? - ? (faint off key piano) Isaac Hayes - Shaft
Henri Mancini - Theme From The Pink Panther
Duran Duran - Is There Something I Should Know?
Deee-Lite - Groove Is In The Heart
Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams
Yello - Oh Yeah
Blur - Song 2
New Order - Blue Monday
Madness - Baggy Trousers
The Kinks - You Really Got Me
Guns n' Roses - Sweet Child Of Mine
The Surfaris - Wipeout
Offspring - Pretty Fly
Prodigy - Firestarter
Aqua - Barbie Girl
Cowcube - If It Ain't Country It Ain't Music
Sex Pistols - Anarchy In The UK
Charlene - I've Never Been To Me
Rolling Stones - (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction
Pulp - Disco 2000
Baz Luhrmann - Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen
The Trammps - Disco Inferno
Madonna - Like A Prayer
T'Pau - China In Your Hand
Depeche Mode - I Just Cant Get Enough
Stardust - Music Sounds Better With You
Eminem - My Name Is
Lulu - Shout
Chaka Khan - I Feel For You
Abba - Take A Chance On Me
Huey Lewis & The News - The Power Of Love
Adamski - Killer
Michael Jackson - Bad
Eric Idle - Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life
Pet Shop Boys - West End Girls
Suzanne Vega - Tom's Diner
? - ? (bassdrum and snare intro)
Roy Orbison - Pretty Woman
Stevie Wonder - I Just Called To Say I Love You
David Bowie - Lets Dance
Free - Alright Now
Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit
Bee Gees - Stayin Alive
Desmond Dekker - Israelites
Snap - The Power
Men Without Hats - The Safety Dance
Etta James - I Just Wanna Make Love To You
Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
The Who - My Generation
Berlin - Take My Breath Away
UB40 - Red Red Wine
Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walkin'
Tom Jones - Its Not Unusual
Chuck Berry - Roll Over Beethoven
Procol Harum - A Whiter Shade Of Pale
Hollies - He Aint Heavy (He's My Brother)
John Lennon - Imagine (unconfirmed)
The Orb - Little Fluffy Clouds
10CC - I'm Not In Love
Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse Of The Heart
Heaven 17 - Temptation
Frank Sinatra - My Way
Fleetwood Mac - Albatross
The Doors - The End

You gotta hear it to believe it. It's wild! It's crazy! I love this stuff!

Not only that, I wanna make stuff like this. Gotta get my hands on that software. Been trying to find that Acid software on the web, but no luck so far. Only I'd rather steer clear of dance music. Why not mash up some rock, country, classical tracks?

Ooooooh, the possibilities...

Do I Get A Toaster?

Just reached another milestone in my digital life (digi-life?). I now have over 1,000 songs on my iMac, adding up to over 4.8 gigabytes. This is especially significant considering that my old computer's hard drive, which I was using only two months ago, held only 4 GB in total!

At first I thought this was completely digi-decadent of me, a sure sign of the novelty of the new 'puter and iTunes and having a seemingly expansive and limitless 40 GB hard drive, and that I would eventually start deleting superfluous songs/albums. But then I thought, wait a minute, this isn't just a computer, it's my digital jukebox!

It's digi-liscious!

"Squeeze"-ing The Most Out Of The Night

I had heard that former Squeeze singer Glenn Tilbrook's club shows are often bizarre experiences. Tales of parking lot serenades from atop cars and dumpsters, marching the club crowd down the street and finishing the show in a friend's living room, etc., so when I saw he was playing the Horseshoe, I knew I didn't want to miss a chance to be a witness to these kinds of hijinks. Last night I went to the venerable 'Shoe with high(jinks) expectations—and I wasn't disappointed.

Considering the odd twists the night would take, Tilbrook took the stage in a very low-key manner—virtually appearing out of the shadows, with hardly anyone noticing, until he said "Hi, I'm Glenn Tilbrook". There were perhaps a dozen people hovering near the edge of the checkered dance floor area in front of the stage, and maybe another 30 or 40 in the rest of the club. Hardly a capacity crowd. But those that were up front were die-hards to the core. After introducing himself, Tilbrook then said "now, I'm going to introduce myself to you in a more personal way", and he jumps off the stage (showing no signs of lingering ill effects from a recently sprained ankle) and proceeds to shake hands with almost everyone in the immediate vicinity of the stage. "Hi, i'm Glenn... Hello... Hello, I'm Glenn, nice to meet you...Hi, welcome..." He then explained to everyone, while still standing on the dance floor, shouting into the club like a street busker, that there were a few rules to be followed for his show. The first rule: Anything Goes! He implored us to move around if we wanted to, migrate around the club, by all means dance (and he gave us some examples of suggested styles of dancing, all of which were quite silly), but most importantly, he begged us to move closer and fill up the space in front of the stage, which we did.

The first hour of his set consisted of mostly solo material, I think, although there may have been a few obscure Squeeze songs in there. He did entertain requests, though was not above gently mocking the requestors if they seemed overly zealous, which many of them were. But he also sent more than a few of them into rapturous squeals by honouring a call for a song of his called "Interview With Randy Newman" (I think), which seemed to be either a true or completely ficitious account of him interviewing Mr. Newman for BBC Radio.

An hour into the set, he announced that he had two propositions for us. 1) we could all put down our drinks and go for a walk outside while he played songs, or 2) we could stay put and continue on with the set as is. Despite the protestations of one yob who had been there since 8:30 to get a table and didn't want to lose it (!), Proposition 1 ruled the day by show of hands. So Tilbrook picks up his 12-string acoustic guitar, hops off the stage and leads us out through the Horseshoe and onto the sidewalk on Queen Street. After a short briefing to let us know what he was going to do (and a suggestion that we jog along behind him in a similar fashion to the Maoist ralliers in China during the height of the Cultural Revolution...he was fond of the way they had jogged and waved Little Red Books), we set off eastward down the Queen St. sidewalk. There were about 60 or 70 of us, laughing and singing the refrain to the Squeeze song "Goodbye Girl" while Glenn led us, walking backwards and playing his guitar ñ like the pied piper of pop absurdity.

It was so hilarious. People honked from cars, taxis stopped, street car riders stared blankly. We got to the end of the block, just past the Bamboo and before the Black Swan, hung a left through a parking lot, where Tilbrook finished "Goodbye Girl" and started the Squeeze classic "Pulling Mussels From The Shell", to wild applause. We then turned west and the merry music mob started down the small one-way street that runs behind the Horsehoe—more like an alley, almost—Tilbrook still walking backwards as he sang and played... and we all sang along, our voices slapping off of the valley of apartment buildings and clubs ... "behind the chalet, my holiday's complete, and I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tip-toed feet, pulling mussels from a shell..."

And that's when we notice the police car approaching from the opposite direction.

As it draws near, Tilbrook, still singing, approaches the driver's side window as the merry mob flows on either side of the car, like an amoeba around a foreign particle. The cop rolls down the window... and he's singing the song!! He knows the words! Tilbrook sits up on the hood of the cop car, leaning back to look at the cop while he sings, the cop turns on the flashing lights, and we all finish the song together, bathed in the red and blue, and the warm glow of that "this-is-just-too-cool-to-be-real" feeling. We all break into a huge cheer, thank the officer, and file back in through the rear entrance of the Horseshoe. Tilbrook finishes off the set and encores with more Squeeze hits: "Tempted", "Another Nail In My Heart", "Annie Get Your Gun"...

Absolute euphoria.

Without a doubt, this was the most bizarre and deeply satisfying club show I have ever experienced. What a great feeling. I'm still shaking my head at it all. Sweet absurdity at its best. Thank you Glenn!

Getting de-pressed

Katherine exhorts us to join with others and make a little noise about the very worrying state of small literary publishing houses in Canada in the wake of distributing giant GDS filing for bankruptcy protection. As usual the small, idependent voices will lose out, and that's a crime and a shame.

To find out more about the situation and why you should give a damn, check out
Darren Wershler-Henry's article. I quote:

Why does it matter if a few small poetry and literary fiction publishers go under? Because the small presses are the heart, the soul and the guts of Canadian literary culture.

Presses like Coach House, Talon, Oberon, Mercury, Broken Jaw, Turnstone, TSAR, Brick and Arsenal Pulp invest the most time and energy in author development. Weíre the farm teams: we find promising new authors, edit their work and otherwise help them develop their writing styles. And we get that work to market for the first time ó usually in better-quality editions than mass-market paperbacks, to boot. In other words, the editors of the small press are responsible for the stunning variety and high calibre of Canadian writing today.

I should also append my previous entry to say that while I listened to the Kink's tribute CD at Indigo's listening post, I promptly went around the corner to the smaller CD Replay and bought the disc there, along with Caitlan Carey's CD. I'm gonna make the effort to do more of my CD buying at the independents, like Soundscapes on College. It's very important that we all support independent authors and publishers, as well as musicians, record labels and record stores. Sometimes it costs a few dollars more, but hell, I've probably got $100 or more in loonies and quarters sitting on top of my dresser. If I was that hard up for money, I'd have cashed those in long ago. Think of it as accumulated subsidy money to allow the patronage of independents.

Why are all my blog entries so long?

The Power Of Pop

Sometimes it gets so incredibly hard to truly believe in anything. There's so much crap in the world. So much cynicism. You have to wonder if maybe thatís the way to go.

Maybe the cynics are right? Why should I care about things that'll just get destroyed, or get appropriated and changed for the worse, or put my faith in things that'll just let me down? Why bother? All too often, good and promising things crumble to nothing. People turn cold. Relationships go sour.

Good pets turn bad.

But then, just as I'm about to morph into Holden Caulfield, I'll be reminded that cynics abound because that's the easy way out. The path of least resistance. The safe way. It's easier not to care, not to invest anything of yourself into believing in something—something that might often let you down, something that might not come through for you. Something that will inevitably get tainted. Something that'll knock you down and laugh at you.

Love is like that. Sure it is.

And in some ways, so is music.

But it's becoming clearer and clearer to me, that above all else, these are the two things I believe in most.

And why? I suppose it's because to me these two things—which are, of course, inextricably linked; where would music be without love, or love without music—are among the very few things that, at their best, their purest incarnations, are able to elude the grip of Power and Money and Greed and all those other deadly sins, all those things that stoke the fires of cynicism and despair. Not always. No, not always. But often enough, they pass through the fires unscathed, like hot-coal walkers.

I was reminded of all of this again most recently on Saturday. I stopped into Indigo and popped down to the music department to snoop around. I was perusing the staff recommendations when I spotted at a listening post the recently released tribute CD, This Is Where I Belong: The Songs Of Ray Davies & The Kinks. I put on the headphones and pressed play... and my whole world did a 180! Grey skies turned blue, pigs flew, glaciers melted.

It was Fountains Of Wayne doing "Better Things".


Here's wishing you the bluest skies
And hoping something better comes tomorrow
Hoping all the verses rhyme
And the very best of choruses to
Follow all the doubt and sadness
I know that better things are on the way

It's really good to see you rocking out and having fun
Living like you've just begun
Accept your life and what it brings
I hope tomorrow you'll find better things


Amazing how a little song can just reach out and grab you by the lapels, lift you up, give you a shake, spin you around and then plunk you down in the exact middle of your life—the place you should be. The place... well, where you belong. It put me in a place where I needed to be. It said "this is where you should be. This is how you should be feeling. And this is how it sounds." The very definition of Power Pop.

And I was reminded that I believe.

I believe in the absolute power of the perfect song to grab you at the perfect time and put you in the perfect place.

It flowed into me. It flowed out of me. It made me feel that everything was gonna be all right. And, hell, if that's not the definition of a spiritual experience, then what is?

Now I know why surfers search for the perfect wave. (hey, you think maybe Brian Wilson knew what he was doin'?) It's the search for the Perfect Place, the Beautiful Moment.

The Beautiful Moment is the holy grail of Western pop culture.

So here's to the eternal quest for the Beautiful Moment. And here's to Better Things.

Played my first game of summer outdoor ball hockey tonight. There's a league that plays at the outdoor rink in Withrow park, off Carlaw just south of Danforth. A couple of the guys I play informal pick-up ball hockey with during the winter months also play in this summer league, so I got onto their team. I got the news just this morning that I was officially on the team, so I had to rush out after work and pick up some equipment. We're required to wear a helmet and hockey gloves, neither of which I possessed, and I didn't have a stick either. Made it to Withrow with barely a minute to spare for our 7:30 game.

It was pretty fun. Helped that we won 4-2. But it was a little different playing on the larger "ice" surface. For the past three winters I've been playing with a bunch of guys every week in a gym at the Dovercourt Boys and Girls Club (a former school). In the smaller confines of the gymnasium, my speed and hustle were big assets, and a big part of my effectiveness. On the rink at Withrow, you gotta do a lot more running to get from Point A to Point B, so it's gonna take some getting used to. That and the whole line-changing-on-the-fly thing, which is pretty foreign to me. But we kept the shifts pretty short, so fatigue wasn't too much of a factor. Didn't help that I hadn't really had time to eat before the game. I managed to heat up some left-over cous cous that I had in the fridge. Not sure how much energy one gets from reheated cous cous, but I'm sure it's not that much. I'm guessing maybe a calorie for each cous. So I felt a bit tired and rubber-legged at times.

But I still gave 110%!!

Just gotta be vigilant that I don't start referring to myself in the third person, as hockey players are wont to do.
Interviewer: "Wayne, what was your game plan coming into tonight's game?"
Gretszky: "Well, Brian... [wipes drop a sweat from tip of nose]... I just had to go out there and play like Wayne Gretszky. And give 110%."

We play again Thursday night at 8:30 ( a double header for my first week. Woo.), so hopefully i'll be able to get my traditional plate of pasta into me, and have a bit more jump.

And we have our own team jerseys! Actually all the teams have the same jersey ñ which says "Withrow Park" on the front with an image of a knight's helmet ñ just different colours. Ours are green. At least we didn't get the purple ones like the poor sods who played after us. Good lord.

So this should keep me active and in-shape over the summer. Gotta keep the ol' bod in motion, or it'll start to go to seed. Like mind, like body.

Not sure if I'm looking forward to those 30-degree summer evenings with soul-crushing humidity. But hey, there's a Baskin-Robbins nearby!

Person One: "Hey, did you know that May is national masturbation month?"

Person Two: "Come again?..."

< rimshot >

Thank you! Thank you! I'm here for two shows a night. Drive carefully on your way home folks, and don't forget to tip your wait-staff. G'night!"

Cadillacadaisical

I thought it was about time I got my ass over to Cadillac Lounge. Never been there in the seven-plus years I've lived in this city. 'Course it's way across town in Parkdale. Not exactly the most convenient trip. But on Saturday night the Silverhearts were playing there, with Halifax's Al Tuck opening. I'd been hearing a lot of good things about the Silverhearts, I had seen Al a couple of times, and he is pretty interesting.

When I saw him a week ago at the re-launch of Radio Mondays at Rancho Relaxo, I mentioned to my friends that he reminded me of a cross between a young Bob Dylan and SNL almunus Norm MacDonald. Perhaps more Norm than Bob. When he gets his nerves under control, he's capable of unwinding some fascinating songs, that come tumbling out of him like a ball of twine. "The Days When People Were Small And Few", "Buddha" and a strangely irresistible little song which I assume is called "Five-O"... yes, as in Steve McGarret, "Book'em Danno", etc. It's an obligatory singalong number, believe it or not, with Al tossing out the refrain ñ "Five-O" ñ which audience members then toss back (faux-operatic works best, I find). It goes like this:

Al: [sings] Five-O
Us: [singing] Five-O
Al: [slightly higher progression] Five-O
Us: [following suit] Five-O
[pause]
All Together: Five-O, Five-O, Five-O

And it works! Very odd, but it works. That's Al Tuck.

And that's not to mention his beautiful, fragile rendition of Nat King Cole's "Mona Lisa".

Anyway, it didn't really matter Saturday night, because between the muddy sound of the bar's PA, and the fact that the Leafs-Senator's playoff game on the bar's TV had gone into triple-overtime, Al didn't really stand a chance. He still pulled off a pretty good performance, closing with some help from a few of the Silverhearts, on a version of "St. James Infirmary" (Louis Armstrong?), which I then recognized as the template for Dylan's "Blind Willie McTell". Best to catch Al at a quieter venue though. I think he's playing every Tuesday at Cameron House or C'est What, or somewhere like that.

The Silverhearts were headlining. I think it was a CD release party for them. They actually played two sets preceeding and following Al's. When I arrived, it was pretty crowded already, but I spied a standing spot at the bar and slipped in there. The Silverhearts were onstage, just inside the entrance. I think I counted ten of them up there, seated in rows. Here's my rough sketch of the band's instrumental configuration:

front row - Saw(!), harmonica, acoustic guitar, trombone
second row - Theremin(!), trumpet, upright piano
third row - Tuba, drums, elec/accoustic guitar

Looked more like a class picture from Tom Waits' Band Camp than an actual musical group. And even though most of the lead singing chores seemed to be handled by the guitarist and the piano player, most songs seemed to feature all-group singalongs. When I arrived they were playing what turned out to be the final song of their opening set, the old Gospel chestnut "Just A Closer Walk With Thee". Made me feel like I was in someone's parlour on a Sunday afternoon, rather than a Saturday night drinking establishment. This was compounded by the presence beside me at the bar of two nuns in full Sally Field old-time habits. Long black head veil, white "hood-y" head coverings, the whole nine yards. At first I wondered if they were legit sisters, but then, as I eaves-dropped on their conversation, it became clear that one of them had just kicked her boyfriend out. "He was talkin' such shit... fucking dickhead..." Nun too subtle.

Which, of course, prompted a brief sideways rumination on the sheer idea of picking up a faux-nun. Just the concept, mind you! Just the concept. Besides, when I turned around a few minutes later, I saw that they had been joined by a couple of fellow "cross"-dressers ñ two guys attired in full bishop regalia ñ yep, the tall, pointy hats, the mitres, the white robes, the red and gold sashes. Smoke in one hand, glass of red wine in the other.

Is this a typical Parkdale Saturday night?

Naturally, the only way to react to such a sight, is to be completely nonchalante, like I hang out in bars with puffing bishops and cursing nuns on a regular basis. So I just ignored them. And I think my approach was justified later, when some half-soused guy floated by and stopped to ask the questionable clergy "so.. what's wis the get-up?" I mean, what are they supposed to say? What's to be gained from asking such a question? Either they're actual clergy, out on the town for some revelry... or they're simply dressed up like bishops and nuns for a bit of a laugh at the bar. I say, who cares either way? Just accept it, order another, and move on.

And I did.

So, back to the Silverhearts... they were interesting, very enjoyable at times, although, like the quaffing clergy next to me at the bar, the schtick got a bit thin after a while. The harmonica player and the trombonist seemed to be trying a bit too hard ñ the former constantly rolling his eyes back in his head and spazzily flaying his arms, and the latter doing his best/worst impression of Buster Poindexter. But they're definitely worth seeing,and they're certainly unique.

And I liked Cadillacs too. Nice blend of cozy and funky and wonky. Ya gotta like any bar where young night-lifers, music fans, musicians (I think I saw Ian Blurton there) and neighbourhood old-timers can not only exist side-by-side, but even interact. It had a nice vibe. And a barmaid who melted my heart all over the bar like a Salvador Dali clock. Yes, I think I'll be going back to the Cadillac.

Not a "holy" satisfying musical adventure, but a watering hole that just could become a habit.

Fortune's Son

Fortune cookie from last night's late-nite dining experience says:
Nature, time and patience are the three great physicians

Amen.

Links du Jour

It's time to get medieval on your friends, with The Amazing Catapult Watch! Courtesy of your friends at BackyardArtillery.com

These and other wacky web wonders brought to you by our friends at WFMU. Their newsletter offers a regular feature called SITES FOR SORE EYES. Here's some more of this month's offerings.

This one's just wackily funny, in a Coen brothers kinda way:
JOE C. ZETTLEMOYER
http://www.shriners-houston.org/zottlemoyer.htm
Illustrious Potentate, husband, Advanced Fluids Systems employee.

This one is at once hilarious and oddly disturbing... in a cuddly, furry, laser-y kinda way:
GLARING WITTLE KITTY KAT
http://www.konstruktiv.net/kitty_02.swf
Bitch, I said Iam's not Hill's Science!"

Here's one for the ladies...
THE WORLD'S LONGEST TONGUE
http://news.bbc.co.uk/cbbcnews/hi/world/newsid_1646000/1646912.stm
"I'm just proud that now people everywhere can read about me and my tongue."

And, in the fine tradition of The Name Game, here's yet another way to have fun with your name ("Cyborg, banana-banna-by-borg, fee-fi-fyborg...":
C.Y.B.O.R.G.
http://brunching.com/toys/toy-cyborger.html
Good for about 5 minutes of entertainment. Decodes what your name would mean "if you happened to be a shallow imitation of humanity with a dark purpose."

"Good for 5 minutes of entertainment"?! Way more like... 7 or 8!

And, in case you were wondering...


... which reminds me... 'bout time I mowed the lawn... logically and intelligently, of course! [What other way is there to mow a lawn? It's a geometry exercise... a noisy, sweaty, grassy-smelling geometry exercise.]

Okay, I think I've managed to install the "add a comment" feature to my blog. Could some kind reader please test it out for me? Thanks.