Doors To The Past

Believe it or not, this is about the 60th anniversary of D-Day. But it starts with a pet peeve. Bear with me.

You're coming through a doorway in a public space--a mall or a subway station or a store--and you notice there's someone coming behind you. You stop and hold the door briefly for them, just to make it easier for them. You do it because it's common courtesy, so the door won't hit them in the face as it swings back. And people will generally extend their hand to take the door from you. Sort of like passing on the open door from one to the next. But some people seem to think you're holding the door for them so they can walk through without having to exert any effort of their own. No attempt to take the door from you. No hand extended. They just breeze on through, like they're royalty or something, and you're their doorman.

I don't like it when that happens. There have been a couple of times when I've actually let go of the door when I saw the person I was holding it for wasn't going to put their hand out to take it from me. It sure as hell surprised them, I'll tell you that. I just walked on.

I'm not proud of that. But it does make me smirk a little.

Of course, when you're coming through a door in a public space, it's sometimes hard to know at what point you should stop to hold the door for the person coming behind you, and at what point it's okay to let it go. It's a fine line sometimes, and generally my rule of thumb is that if they're far enough away that the door would close fully before they reach it, then it's okay to let it go.

Exceptions should be made, though, for people who have their hands full, maybe carrying several shopping bags, for instance, or a clumsy cache of groceries, or for people pushing baby strollers and/or with small children in tow. Of course, when it comes to these kinds of social etiquette rules, elderly people are generally always deserving of special treatment.

For instance, last week I was heading into the Spadina subway station after having dined at a nearby Indian restaurant with some friends. As I passed through the street-level entrance, I noticed there was an old man coming in from the sidewalk behind me. He was moving slowly, shuffling along, age having taken its toll on his body. Legs didn't move the way they used to, the way he wanted them to. He was a small, shrunken man, slightly stooped. Though he was sufficiently far enough behind me that I could have justifiably kept going, I stopped and held the door and waited for him to catch up to it. When he reached the door, he took it in hand, and thanked me in a quiet, weak voice, seeming somewhat surprised, looking up at me through large, thick glasses. I continued on my way, gliding through the automatic turnstile with a swipe of my metropass. He was still in the foyer, fumbling through a change purse or something, trying to find a token I suppose. Just another nondescript old man coping with the tiny everyday struggles that come with old age. I felt good about holding the door for him, giving the extra effort, but that was about as much as I could do.

Fast forward to today, June 6, 2004. The 60th anniversary of the D-Day landings on the beaches of Normandy in WWII. I was watching the extensive coverage on CBC, and I was struck again by this fact: that the old men and women we pass by on the sidewalks without a second thought, the ones we are sometimes impatient with as they take their tottering old time getting on and off busses, or as they take forever to coax the correct change out of their pockets and purses in the supermarket lineups--these could very well be the same people who 60 years ago were fighting their way up a beach in Normandy, praying that this wasn't the day they die; watching friends and fellow young people--for they would have been in their late-teens or twenties--lose their lives in the brutality of war around them; tending to the wounded, the mangled; living each day knowing with a certainty that even if they lived through this thing, they would not do so unscarred. Loss was a given. Loss on a large scale. It was never far away.

And they did it with a purpose. They did it for a reason. War is always chaotic and insane and brutal. But they knew why they were there. They understood why sacrifices were necessary. And they went willingly. There was an old word they used, that decimated generation. A word we don't hear much anymore: duty.

How long ago that was, and how easy it is for those of us from successive generations to be disconnected from that reality, the reality they lived through.

Today's ceremonies and commemorations were all very impressive and moving. The Queen attended the Canadian ceremonies at Juno Beach, where the Canadian forces landed on D-Day. She and our Governor General Adrienne Clarkson (a former TV journalist) and our Prime Minister Paul Martin spoke of the sacrifices made, and of Canada's role. But for me, the most moving image was that of the dozens of octogenarian Canadian veterans in their blue, sometimes red blazers and berets, medals dangling from their chests, marching down to Juno Beach, and then walking along the beach. Their beach. Some with canes, limping, moving as best they could on bad knees and hips and aching joints. Pushing through the years. Just like the old man from the subway. Maybe he was among them.

Some walked in clusters together; some off alone, contemplating the sand and the pleasant waves greeting the shore. One old man was carrying something in a small plastic bag. He ambled to the edge of the beach and, rearing back his arm as best he could, tossed it as far as his old arm would allow into the surf. A private memorial of some sort. Ashes of a since-fallen comrade perhaps?

But all were doing one thing: remembering. I saw one leaving the beach, stopping to wipe his face, tears lingering in the wrinkled folds.

What did they do on that day? Sardined into metal landing craft in the pre-dawn darkness, sick to their stomachs, scared as hell (as one veteran said, if anyone tells you they weren't scared, they weren't there). And then the craft jolts to a stop, the door splashes open, the first of the bullets come whizzing in, ricocheting off the hull. The sickening thud as metal hits flesh and bone.

ping ping zip thud thud ping thud thud...

And there's just one imperative: Run. Forward. Keep moving. Reach that wall. Don't stop.

Don't stop. Even as you step over the bodies of your buddies, sometimes your best friends, men you've spent the past three years training with. (Men! Most were barely beyond boyhood!). Don't stop.

Don't stop till you're wounded, they were told. One of the lessons of Dieppe.

Unimaginable what carnage they must have witnessed on that beach 60 years ago. And what bravery they found within themselves to do what they had to do.

Could we do that today? Despite what I've heard some people say, I think we would. For a just war. Sure, it was a different time, a different generation. But it was a different war. That was no Vietnam. That was no Iraq. It was a war fought in black and white. It was the free world responding to a mad man, a certifiably insane tyrant who was in control of a highly industrialized nation which he had moved to a war economy, built what was the most modern and powerful military machine of its day, and was using it, and his despotic control over his nation to conquer an entire continent and kill millions and millions of people, including some through systematic extermination. Horrible experiments on children. A political policy of dehumanization.

It's almost hard to believe when you think about it in those terms. It almost sounds like a script for a bad sci-fi comic book. A murderous mad man trying to take over the world! People my age and younger have grown up in a world where those events had already happened and were over and done with. A chapter in the history books. An abstraction. Happy days were here again, and we had never known when they had been suspended for a time.

But for those old men walking on Juno Beach, it was no abstraction. For an entire generation, it was their problem to deal with. And they dealt with it. They sacrificed. Their bodies. Their youth. Their lives.

They were willing to give everything in one supreme effort. Willing to give everything, and ready to lose everything. And many did. And because of their efforts, an evil was brought to an end.

Thank you for your efforts. Thank you for holding the door for us.

No Reply

I received no reply from Blogger about the comments issue, so I reinstalled the old comments from YACCS.

Much better.

Have A Nice Cast

I just downloaded Nicecast. Looks pretty cool. Anyone been using it? Is it as easy as it looks? Will I be able to listen to my iTunes library while I'm at work?

Can I start Radio Jimbuck2?

Blog-Jammed or Ode To Comment Sense

It's come to my attention that in order for folks to leave a comment on my blog, they must be Blogger users and sign in with a username and password. I didn't realize that when I switched from my previous comments provider. I just saw that Blogger comments gave an option in the set-up for "anyone can post", and I assumed that meant... ANYONE!

That's just stupid. Very unlike the spirit of what blogging should be. Blogger has made some nice improvements since being bought by Google, but this is dumb. I'm gonna look into this, and if Blogger won't allow unrestricted commenting, I'll try to switch back to my previous comments supplier.

On that score, if anyone has any comments providers they might recommend (I was using YACCS), drop me a line. Click on my name in the "posted by" line below to send me an email.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

In the meantime, here's some fun and interesting stuff from WFMU's Sites For Sore Eyes. I especially enjoyed the VELVET UNDERGROUND 3D DEATH CHASE. Never managed to make it to the Bar Mitzvah without getting stoned by those roving members of the VU. Hate when that happens.

Linger on...

Test

This is a test. Do not be alarmed. Go about your business. This is a test.

The Font Fix

Blogger Support fixed the problem with my fonts. You may have noticed that after I switched the comments, all the posts after the current one were suddenly in UPPERCASE! Looks much better now.

Thanks Blogger Support!

Off to see My Morning Jacket tonight at the Opera House, a fairly short streetcar ride down Queen Street East. Woo!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes

You may notice some changes to the ol' bloggaroo these days. Seems Blogger has made some rather significant upgrades for a major relaunch, which includes--finally--supporting Blogger-resident comments. So, I've fired my old third-party comment service and enabled the new Blogger comments. Hopefully it'll fire up A-OK, but be prepared for some tinkering and false starts over the next little while.

Fingers crossed.

Wired For Sound

Hope all my fellow canucks had a happy Victoria Day long weekend. Long may Queen Vicky continue to bless us with meaningless but greatly appreciated holidays! Hip hip, and all that.

Back to work tomorrow.

Most people go away on the "May Two-Four" long weekend, to mark the unofficial beginning of summer by opening up their cottages or some such activity. I barely left the house. But it was fun and productive all the same. Still work to do around the ol' new apartment, and I got some more things organized. It's getting there. Still nothing on the walls and no window blinds, but all in good time.

Friday night I went over to my friend Larry's place to partake of rum and Garageband. What a nifty little app. Within minutes, and using only a little mini midi keyboard not unlike this one, I laid down a moving Speilbergian soundtrack piece worthy of any closing credits. Just laid down some grand piano, then a couple of tracks of sentimental hollywood strings, and some slightly wah-tweaked classical guitar. Piece of cake! Okay, maybe it wasn't quite ready for prime time, but it sounded pretty cool. The audio modeling is very good.

And now that I've upgraded myself to Mac OS X Panther (thanks Larry!), I'm wondering if I can load it on my iMac. I have the requisite 600mhz CPU on my G3, but they recommend that the Garageband instruments need a G4 or better. Hmmm. I wonder if that's a hard and fast requirement, or could I make do with my G3?

Panther's pretty cool, and that's how I've spent a lot of the past day or so; just trying to familiarize myself with the new OS, tweaking settings on my apps, etc.

I also spent some time wanking on the gee-tar. Now that I have my little studio unit in the same room as my stereo, I realized that I could run the output from my studio into the mix mic input of my stereo, and that would not only allow me to play through the stereo, using its speakers as monitors, buy I could also turn on the radio or play a CD, and play along with either audio source... and my guitar comes through as if it was in the mix with the CD or the radio! This is brilliant!

So if I want to play along wth a song, I don't have to blast the stereo at high volume to be heard above the sound of my guitar amp (which has to be at a certain volume level, or it doesn't sound right). And I can run it all through my headphones (a nice pair of Audio Technica studio cans I picked up a few months ago) and jam away to my heart's content without bothering my neighbours. I mean, it's fine to just play the guitar on its own as a means of practicing, but I find I learn more and play better when I have a song to play along with.

And as if these technological advances weren't enough, I also did a load of laundry and washed the dishes!

Yup. Hear me roar.

Bob's Yer Jersey

Here's something for the lady Dylan fan in your life:

The I'll Be Your Baby Tonight Football Jersey.

Fun with merch! I like it!

Apt News

Not a lot of exciting news on the new apartment front. I bought a Swiffer Wetjet. Is that exciting? Sadly, yes.

I've really been taking my sweet time getting things set up. But it's almost a done deal. Got the books in the bookcases. I'm leaving the CDs till last. I need to get a new CD rack, maybe two. I've needed a new one for some time. Had an overflow of probably at least 100-150 CDs stacked in various places around my old house, and my crappy little wooden rack had fallen apart on me twice, before finally meeting its demise during the move. I was holding off buying a new one because I knew I was looking to move, and there was no point going to all the trouble to completely reorganize my CD collection, only to pack it all away again and move it.

Gotta hit the Kitchen Stuff Plus store this weekend. They have lots of neat stuff at pretty reasonable prices. I just need a few extra gizmos for the kitchen and bathroom, etc.

Speaking of kitchen stuff, here's a question: Does anyone make a can lid puncher that doesn't rust? They can put a rover on Mars, but...

Still need to get the blinds and the area rug...but all in good time.

In other news, I needed some subway reading, so I picked up Kurt Vonnegut's TimeQuake. I love reading Vonnegut. Makes me feel sane. And the fact that it makes me chuckle to myself on the subway, keeps the weirdos at bay.

Napkin Please

Don't really know if there's anything I can say as a preface for Nardwuar the Human Serviette. Maybe this article.

He has become a Canadian media icon. Check out his website for some video of his interviews. The one with Snoop Dogg is pretty good, as are the ones with Henry Rollins and Michael Moore. Rollins shows no sense of humour whatsoever as he gulps his giant Starbucks coffee. Lighten up Henry. And is it just me, or is anyone else really annoyed at Michael Moore's continued obsession with portraying Canada and Canadians in only the most broadest of brushstrokes?

I also like the way Nardwuar makes Kelly Osborne run screaming into the arms of her handlers. This is what Reality TV should be.

Moving Right Along

The adventure continues in the Land of Relocation. I've got a lot of boxes unpacked, and I've taken all the boxes of CDs, books and DVDs and stacked them into one big pyramid of readable media that I can ignore for the time being while I focus on more important tasks. It also allows me to move larger objects around with less box clutter. Kind of like shepherding cardboard icebergs off to the side so I can manoeuver the "large boats" of furniture into place. If you will.

The desk is now set up in the corner of the living room, which is a much better place for it. Previously I had it sitting against the wall between the livingroom and the diningroom/kitchen area, but it just didn't feel right sitting so close to the kitchen. Where it is now, it's blocking half the heating radiator, but I won't be needing that in the summertime anyway. Its present location also allows the desk's side table to multi-function as a kind of end table for the couch, which sort of meets the desk in the corner. I was worried that it might make the livingroom seem too crowded, but I don't think that'll be a problem. I'm going to move one of my large shelving units to where the desk was, and the other one can probably go in the bedroom, where there's lots of room. I'm not even sure if I'll need both of them, but I suppose there's always something I can use them for. So that will free up space along one wall of the livingroom where I can put my smaller brown bookshelf and set up my guitars and some smaller items.

Still surprised by how much space there is in the livingroom and the bedroom. I'm likin' it.

The diningroom/kitchen table and chairs are set up, although I'm going to look at a table and chairs set tonight in The Beaches that was for sale on the craigslist. Might be a little nicer. I've had this table since university; a castaway of my mother's. The table's actually okay, but the chairs have seen better days.

Almost had a line on an area rug for the livingroom (which I'll need to cover up the phone line and possibly other wires running across the floor) also from craigslist, but the seller (a Kelly Hogan, but not the singer) had already sold it by the time I contacted her.

If anyone has any other strategies for running wires and phone lines and extension cords across a room, feel free to drop me a note.

Shower curtain makes showering much easier.

Radio Redhead

Got this note from my friend and former bandmate Heather. Seems she's making her (first?) appearance on web radio!

Howdy All,

Just a note to tell you about Heather Morgan & The Company Of Men being featured for the next few weeks on Rismix Live internet radio.

It is a segment they have called "RML BOARD ROOM" featuring live performances in all their rough raw glory! This performance of ours was from a show we did at C'est What last Sept.

The program plays 11PM EST Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

Here is the link with details:
www.rismixlive.com/schedule.asp

Ciao for now!

Heather
www.heathermorgan.ca
=====

I checked it out on Monday night and it sounded great! Congrats Heather!

Exposure! Exposure! Exposure!

Tune in, drop by and rock on!

Some Assembly Required

Well, I'm all landed at my new place. Still tripping through cardboard canyons and piece-by-piecing together the jigsaw elements of my domestic life. Lovin' it though. It's sooooo nice to have my own place again. Still in a bit of Spartan survival mode--i.e., contents of the fridge: water, milk, pizza, beer, opened cat food tin, margarine, parmesan cheese, champagne.

(The champagne is for later, when everything is set up and functional.)

Spent the first couple of days with no shower curtain, which presents certain challenges. But all the important stuff is up and running--bed, clothes, couch, cable TV, phone, computer. Yesterday I finally found the box with the silverware in it. Makes eating cereal in the morning a whole lot easier, let me tell you.

My goal is to have the kitchen fully functional by the weekend, so I can have a nice relaxing omellette for breakfast. I got a new coffee maker today, programmable and all that, so that'll be nice to wake up to.

More later.

I'm About A Mover

Things will be quiet around here for a while. I'm moving this weekend. I have tomorrow and Friday off. Tomorrow will be the main packing day (though I've started some things already), Friday I'm renting a van, and I'll be moving some stuff on my ownósmall, one-person stuff. My new place isn't very far away from my present abode--probably a 5-10 minute drive--so I don't care if it takes several trips.

Then Saturday I'm renting a different van (they're in short supply this weekend), and with some help from friends and my brother, I'll move the heavier, two-person stuff: bed, couch, etc. Should go all right I think.

My high-speed will be down from Friday until probably sometime later next week. So talk amongst yerselves. I'll even give you a topic: The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman. Discuss.

Next time you hear from me I'll be in my new digs! Woo!

And tonight, will I be packing and fretting and planning? HELL NO! I'm going to the Horseshoe to see Neko Case! Hee hee!

Word

Word of the Day for Monday April 26, 2004

lucubration \loo-kyoo-BRAY-shun; loo-kuh-\, noun:
1. The act of studying by candlelight; nocturnal study;
meditation.
2. That which is composed by night; that which is produced by
meditation in retirement; hence (loosely) any literary
composition.

A point of information for those with time on their hands:
if you were to read 135 books a day, every day, for a year,
you wouldn't finish all the books published annually in the
United States. Now add to this figure, which is upward of
50,000, the 100 or so literary magazines; the scholarly,
political and scientific journals (there are 142 devoted to
sociology alone), as well as the glossy magazines, of which
bigger and shinier versions are now spawning, and you'll
appreciate the amount of lucubration that finds its way
into print.
--Arthur Krystal, "On Writing: Let There Be Less," [1]New
York Times, March 26, 1989

One of his characters is given to lucubration. "Things die
on us," he reflects as he lies in bed, "we die on each
other, we die of ourselves."
--"Books of The Times," [2]New York Times, February 7, 1981

Naturally, these fictions ran the risk of tumbling down the
formalist hill and ending up at the bottom without readers
-- except the heroic students of Roland Barthes or Umberto
Eco, professors whose lucubrations were much more
interesting than the books about which they theorized.
--[3]Mario Vargas Llosa, "Thugs Who Know Their Greek,"
[4]New York Times, September 7, 1986


Lucubration comes from Latin lucubratus, past participle of
lucubrare, "to work by night, composed at night (as by
candlelight)," ultimately connected with lux, "light." Hence
it is related to lucent, "shining, bright," and lucid,
"clear." The verb form is lucubrate.

Glenn, Live It

Faithful readers may recall this blog entry from almost exactly two years ago, from when I saw Glenn Tilbrook play at the Horseshoe. It was a fantastic experience, especially with the "walkabout" we took outside.

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 ñ more like an alley, almost ñ 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.

Just in case you thought I shittiní ya, it seems the blessed event was actually captured on film.

The scene appears toward the end of this trailer for the upcoming Glenn movie. [large 5.4mb video file - those without highspeed proceed with caution...and patience]

Cool or what?

The Wild, The Innocent, And The Queen Street Shuffle

Seems I'm becoming something of a fixture on the stage at The Horseshoe. I think I may have to ask for my own dressing room and parking space.

I kid, of course. But this past Thursday night, I played the Horseshoe again; the second time in less than a month. My friend Boag (who faithful readers will remember from the St. Paddy's Day Massacre (In Three-part Harmony) blog entry, had organized a Bruce Springsteen tribute night at The 'Shoe and asked me and our campadre Tim to once again back him up on guitar. Proceeds were to benefit a Parkdale outreach centre, St. Francis Table. So we practiced two songs: ìThe Feverî and ìRed Headed Womanî. I played lead guitar. Tim played acoustic rhythm.

It was billed as "The Wild, the Innocent, and the Queen Street Shuffle", and it turned out to be a very good night. As always, there were a few last-minute snafus or near-snafus. Just as I was leaving work, I got an email from Boag saying he'd decided that he'd start the show himself, and did I know any of these songs well enough to back him up: "Born To Run", "Backstreets", "Racing In The Streets", "Growin' Up", and one other I can't recall. I figured the only one I could do adequately on short notice was "Growin' Up", so when I got home, I ran through it a bit on my acoustic, and figured it out.

When I got to the 'Shoe, I met up with Boag, and we went across the street to Steve's Music to rent the drum kit, guitar amp and other accoutrements for the stage. (Later on, it was discovered that the drum kit was missing a hi-hat stand, resulting in a mad pre-show scramble by Jay Clark Reid of Jay Clark & The Jones, who heroically raced in their van out to Parkdale to get a replacement.) Had a bit of a problem finding a cab so we could transport the gear, but after two bailed on us, we found one guy that begrudgingly ferried us and the gear around the corner. Back at the 'Shoe, we huddled with Tim and ran through our two songs just to refresh our memories and do a little last-minute fine-tuning. I ran through "Growin' Up" with Boag, and it seemed to be all right. Then it was just a matter of waiting for show time.

I was definitely harbouring a few butterflies in my stomach, but I wasn't quite as nervous as I was before the St. Patrick's Day show, mostly because I felt I knew these songs better, thanks to the rehearsal we'd had the previous Sunday. (By the way, ìThe Feverî is a tricky little song, if you've ever tried to learn it. Not that the chords are difficult, but the way Bruce does it, there are sections that seem to straddle a line between a verse and a bridge, and sections that share the same lyrics as the first verse, but aren't structurally the same as the verse, just slightly different. Sneaky.)

When 10pm rolled around, Boag took to the stage and said a few words about St. Francis Table and ran through the line-up for the evening. Then I joined him and strapped on Tim's acoustic for "Growin' Up". I eschewed the picking pattern that Bruce does, and some of the finer points of his guitar playing on the song, in favour of a simpler approach that relied more on vigorous, rhythmic strumming. Keep it simple. It seemed to go pretty well. Good song to start the night with. And it was good for me to get up there early and get my feet wet, so to speak. Let loose some of those butterflies. For the next hour or so I just sat back and enjoyed the show. And it was a very good show, with all-round enjoyable performances; some absolutely stellar.

Dan Kershaw - I Wish I†Were Blind, Bobby Jean
(Our friend) Heather Morgan & The Company Of Men - Dancing In The Dark
Michelle Rumball - Across The Border
John Borra & Colleen Hodgson - 10th Ave Freezout,†Because The Night, Dead Man Walking (Colleen vocals)
Tim Armour - Nebraska
Cindy Archer & Co. - Dry Lightning
Pete Elkas and band - Darkness On The Edge Of Town, Streets Of Fire/Hungry Heart
Paul Emery & The Dickens - Prove It All Night
Jonah Ward & Tina Martinez - State Trooper

Not to mention the one and only Ron Sexsmith, who graced us with three or four songs, including "I Wanna Marry You" and "Factory".

As for our time on stage--under the name Boag And His Band And Street Choir--it went really well, helped in no small part by Don Kerr sitting in with us on drums, and Kenny Yoshioka ("The Japanese Torpedo") from Jay Clark & The Jones joining in on harmonica. It was very cool to play with Don, as I'd admired his playing for quite some time, with Ron Sexsmith and with The Rheostatics. Boag really let go on "The Fever", throwing himself into it, body and soul, and everyone seemed to be diggin' it, so he came over to me during my solo and yelled to stretch it out longer and keep it going. Felt pretty good. And "Red Headed Woman" went pretty well too. We had rehearsed it as sort of a rockabilly version, using Elvis' "That's Alright Mama" as a template, which is not that far removed from Bruce's solo acoustic version (it appears on the MTV XXPlugged album). But with the drums and harp and the energy on the stage, it seemed to emerge more like something from Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited (think Tombstone Blues). Perhaps not surprising since I had envisioned my role as more of a Mike Bloomfield/Robbie Robertson part. I'm afraid the fancy James Burton stuff just ain't my forte. I didn't seem to be hitting the notes as solidly as I wanted to during my solos, but people told me afterwards that it sounded all right. I guess there's something to be said for the transfer of energy over the accuracy of picking.

So it was a very satisfying night. And we raised about $300 for St. Francis Table.

Here's a pic from my friend Larry's photo-phone. Poor quality, I'm afraid.

L-R: Boag, a barely visible Don Kerr, unknown mic stand,
me, torso and legs of the Japanese Torpedo

I don't think I'm close to ditching the writing gig for a life making music, as much as that would be sweet as honey, but it's sure good to get out and play. Scary and nerve-wracking, but the more I do it, the more comfortable it gets. Nice when it goes well and you get some positive feedback, too. And, again, to play the Horseshoe is a thrill. I suppose I was standing in the same spot on stage where Keith Richards would have stood. Maybe I absorbed some residual energy?

And it may not be the last time, as there's talk of maybe starting a series to benefit St. Francis Table. Next up: A tribute to The Band.

Count me in!

Case Of Redemption

The most bothersome thing about the Phoney Neighbour Scammer wasn't so much the money, as it was the disappointment. Disappointment in me, that I could have made such an error in judgement, that my instincts had served me so poorly. And a general disappointment that my faith in human goodness was left bruised and battered.

I don't mean to overstate it. I'm sure if I had spent time in Rwanda 10 years ago, I'd be talking about a whole other level of faith in human goodness being destroyed. But still, I felt disappointed that I had decided to put my trust in this person, and I got burned.

But as much as that kind of let down is a fact of life, and a constant that runs through the human experience, we have to remember that redemption is always just around the corner. Or in this case, waiting to meet me at the corner.

It was a dark and rainy night... Well, it was!... Okay, okay. Last Saturday night, I ventured out into the steady rain to go see Neko Case and The Sadies at Lee's Palace. We were having quite a good little downpour, and I was waiting at the corner for the bus, umbrella sheltering me from the rain. Car pulls up and the driver, a 30-ish guy of vaguely Middle Eastern appearance, motions me over. I thought maybe he was looking for directions. Then I see him toss a pizza warming bag into the back seat. He leans over, opens the passenger door and asks me if I would like a ride to the subway station. I say sure, and hop in. Turns out he's a delivery driver for Pizza Hut, just on his way home, and he thought he'd give me a lift and save me from standing in the rain for maybe 10-15 minutes waiting for the bus.

What a nice guy! So he dropped me off a the Pape subway station, and I thanked him very much.

The karmic wheel must have been turning in my favour that night, because when I got to Lee's Palace, hoping that maybe there might be some tickets at the door for Neko's sold-out show, alas, the doorman said there was none...at the moment. I asked him what he meant, and he said, "Well, sometimes if you stand right over there and wait, somebody might come by with an extra ticket they're looking to sell." No sooner had the words left his mouth than the guy standing behind me, who had overheard our exchange, says he has an extra ticket he's looking to sell. Tickets were $18.50. I gave him $20 and I was in!

It was a fantastic show! They were recording both that night's show and Sunday night's show for a future live album. Video cameras were there too, for a future DVD I assume. The opening act was Jim And Jennie And The Pinetops, and they were very good bluegrassers, joined by Carolyn Mark for an opening set.

But Neko just blew the place away. She started with "Favorite" from the Canadian Amp EP. Oh man, there's a part in that song where the band falls away, and she sings "But I know that I-hiiiiiiiiy'm your favorite/And I say amen". On that "I-hiiiiiiiiiy'm" part, she just sang that so perfectly. 24 Karat twang. The whole show was marvelous. There were moments that were simply spellbinding. Even when they re-did several songs after the main set, the magic was still there.

She did mostly new songs that they were recording specifically for the live album. Kind of like Neko's Time Fades Away.

The Sadies were her backup band, along with John Rauhouse on steel guitar. Carolyn Mark and Kelly Hogan were her backup singers, both dressed in green blazers which they probably found in some menswear store's bargain bin.

But does Neko have the most wonderful voice in the world? I think maybe she does.

And they're doing it again tomorrow night and Saturday at the infamous after-hours bar The Matador. Should be a good 'n' wild one. Then she's back on the 28th at the Horseshoe. Woo!! April is Neko Month here in Toronto!

Pontificating

Today's headline:
Pope tells flock not to worship materialism

"The Pope, who appeared in good spirits and spoke in a relatively strong voice, directed his homily to young Christians, saying "Certainly the message that the Cross communicates isn't easy to understand in our era, in which material well-being and convenience are proposed and sought after as priority values."

He then retired behind the gold-lined doors of the Vatican where he had a nap on a Louis XIV divan underneath a priceless da Vinci painting.

Love and Theft

I started out my "playing at the Horseshoe" entry by saying that it had been an interesting week. That was only part of the story.

That weekend, Bob Dylan was playing three gigs here in Toronto: Friday night at the Ricoh Auditorium, Saturday night at the Phoenix night club and Sunday night at Kool Haus night club. I had a ticket for the Phoenix show. But Friday night, blues guitarist Paul James added a late-announced gig at Cadillacs, out in Parkdale. Significance? The last couple of times Dylan played here, Paul James joined him on a few songs at Dylan's show, and Bob returned the favour, showing up unannounced and jamming with James at his club gig.

You didn't need to be a super-sleuth to surmise that Bob might show up at James' gig at Caddilacs, which is a short limo ride away from Bob's concert that night. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that James was guesting with a band called The Catfish Blues Band, which neither myself nor any of my friends had heard of before. And Bob-philes know that Dylan has an obscure bluesy song called "Catfish" on his Bootleg Series: Vol.1-3 boxed set.

So, Friday night, after a delicious meal at Mitzi's Sister, I scooted over to Caddy's. Sign on the door said $8 cover, $6 with ticket stub from the Dylan show. Hmmm, interesting. Were they hinting, were they milking the rumours, or was the owner a big Dylan fan? First thing I heard when I entered the room was a Dylan song being played over the sound system. Hmmmmx2. I managed to find a spot at the bar near the stage. Good thing I got there when I did, because the place started filling up fast. Apparently a lot of other people had the same idea.

So, the Catfish Blues band plays a short set, and then Paul James gets up and plays a set on his own, mostly with acoustic guitar and harmonica. He plays a whole series of Dylan songs. And I'm thinking that's probably not such a good sign. Either way, I found it kind of tacky. James is a hell of a guitar player, but a bit too much of an "entertainer" for my liking. He has schtick. Plays the guitar with his teeth, behind his back, etc. Mugs for the crowd. Just a bit too much for my taste.

But between him and the Catfish band (who were quite good) and the palpable sense of anticipation in the sardined crowd, the place was rockin'! It was quite exciting, in fact. People were really having a good time (including my friend Boag's pal John/Jack, who got turfed by the doorman). But alas, closing time came, and no Bob.

So Saturday night I met up with Boag and John/Jack before the Phoenix show for a few beers at the wonderfully dive-y '70s-era Imperial Tavern on Dundas Street East, a drunk's stumble from the Eaton's Centre. We compared notes about the previous evening's proceedings at Caddy's. They had been at the Dylan show, so had begun The Celebration much earlier than me, so I was able to clear up some of their foggy memories. We cabbed it over to the Phoenix (treated to some killer church gospel on a tape the cabbie was playing) and found a spot near the back of the room, just behind the soundboard, and within easy striking distance of one of the smaller and not-too-crowded bars.

Dylan and his band came on a few minutes after we arrived, and started into their set (archived here for those of you who care to follow such things). Very nice version of "To Be Alone With You", and I was very happy to hear "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight". It was also cool to see him do "If You See Her, Say Hello". Bob stayed on piano all night, playing a keyboard that was set up stage left, dressed in his Cowboy Bob suit. Great band, as usual. He only used one drummer for this gig, I guess because the stage wouldn't fit the two kits used on this tour. Fine by me, since I think with the possible exception of Yes, or some other prog rock monsters, no band needs two drummers. Not for this kind of music, anyway.

I ventured up to the front a couple of times just to get a better look, but mostly I stayed back by the soundboard and took in the scene and the sounds from there. I can't say it was an amazing concert--I enjoyed his show at the ACC two years ago much more--but it was good, and it was cool to see Dylan in such a small venue.

After the show, I lost Boag and John/Jack, so I headed out to Mitzi's again, where local alt-country lads Jay Clark And The Jones were playing. A very good evening there. Jay and the boys sounded great, and Jay passed me a copy of their new CD, which is a very fine piece of work. Lots of good songs and a fuller, warmer production than their debut. Kudos to the boys.

Okay, I'm tired typing and I need to get ready for bed. But there's more to say about the events of last week. I'll continue with the "theft" portion of this topic at a later date.

[ooh, a cliffhanger!]

Careful With That Axiom, Eugene

Just this morning, while making my breakfast, I came up with a new axiom. Or maybe it's a maxim. Or an adage. Yes, I think it's more proper to call it an adage. I'm not changing the title of this entry though. Shame to waste a good pun. Anyway... it is this:

The finest bread will not always make the best toast.

Please discuss in terms of appropriate usage or possible ways of fine-tuning the verbiage. And please feel free to start dropping it into your conversations. Remember to adopt the proper sagely tone, like this: "Ah yes, but remember [here you can raise an index finger for effect]: The finest bread will not always make the best toast." Yes, that should do it.

Let's see if this baby finds its way into the popular consciousness. It's like dropping an 'adage in a bottle' into the ocean of language. heh heh. Let's see where it ends up.

Whoa, Nellie!

I saw Nellie McKay (web pages here and here) last night at the El Mocambo. Wow! I love this girl! What an amazing, unique talent. She's been getting rave reviews for her album Get Away From Me, and you can believe the hype.

It's like the ghosts of George and Ira Gershwin inhabited the body of a 19-year-old misfit chick from New York City who was raised by a bohemian mom. Or maybe it's Cole Porter meets Phoebe Buffet? Nah, that's not fair, because she's not a comedy act, although she is very funny, but also incredibly witty, incisive, poignant and lots of other wonderful things. Wait, I know who she is! She's the love child that Elvis Costello and Diana Krall haven't had yet!

Check out some MP3s for David and Inner Peace and videos here.

Her electronic press kit is here

Go Nellie!

It's Not Easy Being Green

Been an interesting week. On Monday, my friend Stephen "Boag" O'Grady--a fine, soulful singer with a fine Irish name--emailed to ask me if I was interested in backing him up on guitar when he takes to the stage of the Lengendary Horseshoe Tavern to perform a few songs at the annual Martian Awareness Ball. The "Ball" is held every St. Patrick's Day, hosted by the one and only Mary Margaret O'Hara. For the past couple of Balls, Boag has hopped onstage to sing a few songs.

He told me he wanted to do Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" and also Van's arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural (That's An Irish Lullaby)" from The Last Waltz. Short notice, but I went to work learning the songs. "Tupelo" is pretty straightforward, so I worked out some lead guitar riffs I could throw in, and the link on The Band's site gave me the chords to that arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural".

We met at the íShoe at about 9pm and found the little rehearsal room in the basement was unused, so we huddled to go through the tunes, joined by Boag's friend Tim, who had played guitar with Boag last year. We decided he'd play on our songs and we'd play on his selection, "She's A Mystery To Me" which Bono and The Edge had written for Roy Orbison.

We ran through the songs a couple of times and worked out what we were going to do. However, the more I play in public (and this is perhaps only the sixth or seventh time I've played on stage at a real music venue) the more I realize that I need to rehearse a lot so I can really internalize the songs, so I don't have to think about what I'm playing. Just play it, feel it, remain more open and aware of what's happening on the stage and with the other musicians. So I was quite nervous, because even though I knew how the songs went, I didn't really have them down as much as I would have liked. While waiting around for things to get started, I was running through the chords in my head, and thinking about the general approach I was planning for the riffs and solos. Plus it was rather intimidating to be playing the stage at the Horseshoe, a venerable live music venue, and perhaps the most famous stage for rock and roots music in Toronto, as well as being my favourite live music venue in the city. At the same time, I was also quite excited to be playing on the same stage that has seen The Rolling Stones, The Tragically Hip, The Police and countless others. So all of that is going through my head as we're watching the strange spectacle of The Kings (you know, of "Switching To Glide" fame?) run through their pre-Ball opening set of five or six songs. (Still not sure what to make of that, but they were a little too heavy with the "let's-get-the-crowd-going" schtick. Had the feeling of has-beens trying to rekindle their career. Of course, coming from a "never was" like me, maybe that's a bit harsh. They at least had one pretty good hit song. That's one more than I have.)

Now, the thing about the Martian Awareness Ball is that it tends to be a little chaotic. It is St. Patrick's Day afterall. And it is a fairly zany event. But on top of that, there is very little in the way of stage management. I met and chatted with Mary Margaret beforehand, and she seems very sweet, but she tends to just let things run of their own accord. So even after she called us to come to the stage, it was about another 40 minutes until we finally got up there. And we had no sound check, and very little direction about what to do, so as the guitarist for the house band was leaving the stage, I had to ask him where I could plug in my guitar and my pedal board. I had never dealt with a stage with monitors and all that, so I just plugged in and hoped everything sounded okay. It sounded fine on the stage. The house band played with us--drummer, bass player and keyboard player, all very good players, so I told them what songs we were going to do and what keys they were in, and off we went! We also had a very good sax player named Richard Underhill play with us. He had performed just before us, so Boag asked him to stay on and honk along. "Tupelo Honey" went all right, I think. As I said, I had to really concentrate on my playing, and I was fairly nervous, so I had "stage blinders" on; not really very aware of what was going on around me. Mary Margaret joined in with us, I do know that.

Next we backed Tim on his song, "She's A Mystery To Me", which went all right, as far as I could tell, except I think I forgot what the proper chords were for the bridge, so I had to just sort of fake my way through that part, chopping at damped strings. Then we did "Tura-Lura-Lural"... and that's where everything went off the rails.

I wasn't really very aware of what was transpiring, but talking to Boag and others afterwards, it seems that at some point, this guy who was sort of emceeing the night joined in at the other microphone, I think maybe rapping or doing some sort of spoken word ad libs. Apparently that wasn't too bad, but then some other guy got up onstage and started yapping about something and just causing a lot of chaos, throwing everybody off. The song came crashing to a halt in confusion and bewilderment. Boag had to tell the guy to knock it off, and I think it was at that point that I had to actually re-start the song. We went through another go-round and then we brought it all home with the big ending, where I decided to just give 'er and started chopping out the closing chords with, as they say, extreme prejudice. Actually busted my D string in the process, which being the 4th from the bottom and not one of the smaller strings, takes a bit of doing. Rock íní†roll, baby!

Overall, I can't say I felt very good about my performance, and the chaotic closing number left a bad taste in my mouth, so I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Plus by that point it was going on 12:30 and I had work the next day. So I just packed up my stuff as quickly as I could and scampered off. As I was gathering up my gear, Mary Margaret gave me a pat on the back and said "good job", or something. That was nice of her. Perhaps she was just being kind, I dunno. However, it probably wasn't as bad as I thought, and it was certainly a thrill to play the Horseshoe.

Maybe next year we'll work out something that'll really bring down the house--in a good way. And if I get enough rehearsal in, I'll be able to keep my wits about me, and be ready to swing my guitar at the head of any goof who tries to hijack our gig.

Deep Thought For Today

'Scared' is simply a typo of 'sacred'.

Dodging A Bullet

The big news here last week was the three shootings in Scarborough in the space of a few hours Wednesday night. It was all the talk at the office too, because one of the shootings happened right outside our doors. (That's our building in the background of the picture in the linked article.)

When I stepped off the bus Thursday morning, there was a CITY-TV cameraman filming the intersection. As I hadn't heard any news that morning, I didn't know why he was there. But that's where the drive-by shooting occurred, where a man was shot dead. In my morning pre-coffee stupor I probably walked right by the blood stains without noticing.

The shooting had happened right at the intersection at about 5:20pm Wednesday evening. That's roughly the time I would normally be waiting for the bus at that corner, or, indeed, crossing the crosswalk to get to the bus stop. Not to make it overly dramatic, because there were other people standing at the bus stop--a couple of people from the office, in fact--and they weren't directly in danger's way, but under normal circumstances I would have been in the vicinity of the shooting, and...well, who knows what would have happened. Bullets can ricochet. Instead, I ended up getting a drive downtown at 4:30 with a colleague to pick up the Canadian Music Week pass and "swag" bag.

And they say music can't save your life!

One More Reason...

... to love Rhino Records:

The Office Ghetto Run-Through!

2004: A Space Ought-To-See?

It's not a large, opaque monolith, but it's an arresting headline nonetheless.

Opportunity explores mysterious spheres in Martian trench.

p.s. Cow! Kubrick! Cowoobrick!

Traffic Was Crazy!

Some interesting results from my Sitemeter weekly report:

4 weeks ago:
Average per Day .................. 5
Average Visit Length .......... 0:06
This Week ....................... 38

3 weeks ago:
Average per Day .................. 6
Average Visit Length .......... 0:09
This Week ....................... 41

2 week ago:
Average per Day .................. 7
Average Visit Length .......... 2:13
This Week ....................... 47

Last week:
Average per Day ................ 116
Average Visit Length .......... 0:24
This Week ...................... 812

[screeeeech]

812!
Eight-hundred and frickin' twelve!

So much for my small but dedicated cult following.

Hmmm. An average of 116 visits per day. Average visit length of only 24 seconds. I'm wondering if it was the Jessica Simpson thing?

Checking the more detailed stats, it looks like a lot of people found their way here entering search terms for spongemonkeys, but traffic also peaked on Wednesday, when I posted about that "Jessica" song. [shrug]

Classified Ad Of The Week

This ad for THE WORLD'S UGLIEST COUCH definitely puts the 'class' in classifieds.

Courtesy of Craigslist.

Song Of The Week

This week's Song Of The Week goes to...

Adam Green for "Jessica".
(Quicktime required to view video)

This clip also wins the award for Best Use Of Ping-Pong In A Music Video.

Spongemonkey Sandwich

Our pal Vern brings this rather interesting development to our attention. Seems the people at the Quiznos sandwich chain have recruited our much beloved spongemonkeys for a web promotion.

We're not sure how to feel about this. It's often disturbing to see a favoured expression of wacked creativity from the margins get appropriated by large-scale commercial interests. On the other hand, begrudging kudos must go to Quiznos' marketing/ad people for daring to use the spongemonkeys, and for generally having the, uh, "quiznos", for such a strategy. There aren't many marketing strategies out there that are willing to recognize the role of web culture in the popular consciousness.

Either way, we here at jimbuck2 heartily applaud any punnerific use of the word 'buck', especially as used in the 'buck off' header on the promotion's web page.

It's also worth a trip over to rathergood.com to check out some of the new installments. We especially liked "When Biscuits Go Wrong" and The Zoology Dragon.

"COW! CUBE! COWUUUBE!"

Steely Definitions

I've been re-listening to Steely Dan lately. Quite an amazing band, of course. Lots of musical currents flowing in there. Jazz, pop, R&B, rock, funk. Great songwriters. "Peg", "Reeling In The Years", "Do It Again", "Dirty Work" (which I hadn't even realized was their song--sung by the guy who left after their first album), "Babylon Sisters", "Hey Nineteen", "FM". Albums populated with fine musicians. Only in the '70s would such a band as Steely Dan find success on mainstream radio. One more reason why I prefer the '7Os to this retched '80s nostalgia kick we're now suffering through. Ugh.

Kind of makes me wonder what kind of musical beast would have resulted had the Steely Dan bus collided with The Band's bus on some supernatural bayou highway in 1974, and when they emerged from the mystic bog, the two groups had been transmorgrified into one entity distilling the essence of each. A melting pot of Becker and Danko and Helm, with an easily imagined amalgam of Fagen/Manuel singing at the piano. And into that broth, throw in Garth Hudson! Oy!

What a cauldron of music! Imagine! The mind reels [in the years, Jim?]!

So Anyway.

I think partly I was inspired to re-dig the Dan by listening to Wilco's cover version of "Any Major Dude Will Tell You". A fine song and a fine cover version (perhaps a pale hint of what the abovementioned transmorgrified beast from the mystical bog might possibly sound like?). But this line in that song always intrigued me:

Have you ever seen a squonk's tears?
Well look at mine

Which obviously led me to ask "What the hell is a squonk?"

And, of course, to answer such questions, there's only one place to turn:
The Steely Dan Dictionary!

According to the good Dan book, a squonk is: A mythical woodland creature, originating in Pennsylvania. Squonks spend much of their time crying due to their ugliness, and when captured, will dissolve into a puddle of tears. Also the subject of a song on the 1976 Genesis album A Trick of The Tail.

Although I rather prefer the definition I found through a google search (dig the Latin name):

squonk n :
Lacrimacorpus dissolvens. A warty, loose-skinned, butt-ugly (and hence wretchedly shy) creature of the northern Pennsylvania hemlock forests, that when sought plays possum by dissolving in a surfeit of melancholy.

So, mystery solved.

For more on the Squonk, look here.

Spuff

The story of the huge marijuana "factory" found north of here a few weeks ago has spawned this little jewel from spoof-meister Rick Mercer, riffing off an old rah-rah jingle for Ontario from many moons ago.

Not much growing out there tonight in this weather, except snow drifts and winter weariness.

And while I'm drawing on the CBC's info well, I'll give a shout-out to their quite cool web site for CBC Radio 3.

Hey Mac, blow out da candles

Happy 20th birthday to the little mouse that roared!

Hep C-ats Sing For The Big E

This looks like it might be an interesting tribute album. Certainly for a good cause.

And file this under "I Didn't Know That": Sheila E is Alejandro's niece?

Top 10 Or So CDs of 2003

Okay, here's the damn list. As usual, there were many acclaimed CDs this year that I just didn't get around to hearing. Here, in no particular order, are the ones I did hear.

Two-Minute Miracles - Vol III: "The Silence Of Animals"
My Morning Jacket - It Still Moves
Jim Bryson - The North Side Benches
The Weakerthans - Reconstruction Site
Paul Westerberg - Come Feel Me Tremble
Fountains Of Wayne - Welcome Interstate Managers
The Jayhawks - Rainy Day Music
Daniel Lanois - Shine
Lucinda Williams - World Without Tears
Stars - Heart
Buck 65 - Talkin' Honky Blues

Reissues:
Neil Young - American Stars 'n' Bars; On The Beach
The Beatles - Let It Be... Naked

Making Tracks

I don't like to waste money. So since I didn't spend any money on air fare this holiday season, I decided I'd better put the money I saved to good use. That makes sense, doesn't it?

So I went out this past weekend and picked me up a cool new toy.

Been looking to get something like this for a little while now, and I figured now is the time. I'm just starting to work my way through the manual, and it's pretty damn cool. Seems very user-friendly. It's really geared towards guitar players; just plug straight in and play. It's got tons of pre-set amp modeling patches and other cool effects. And of course, you can create your own sound, from choosing the virtual amp (Fender Twin? Matchless? Marshall Stack?) to setting the distance the virtual microphone is from the virtual amp's speaker. Amazing.

There are several bass simulation patches, so you can lay down bass tracks using an electric 6-string. There's also an input for a microphone and a line-in for other devices such as keyboards. And the drum machine sounds quite good, fairly realistic.

I did quite a bit of research on the web before deciding on this particular model. It got very good reviews, and there's even a Yahoo Group dedicated to it (nobody there seemed to be having any major problems with it, and most seemed to like it a lot). It uses a CompactFlash media card, comes with a 128MB card but accepts cards up to 1GB. I like the fact that it has a USB port, so I can dump my finished tracks on my computer, convert them to MP3s and burn them to CD (why pay twice as much for a model with the same features that also has a hard drive and a CD burner on board, when I already have those things on my iMac?). The USB connection also allows you to import sounds for making loops and to import extra rhythm sounds to customize drum sounds, such as a different snare sound, for instance. It really seems to give the most bang for the buck.

Guess what I'll be doing while I'm off work for the next week?

God R Us

Hello and happy holidays! It's been way too long between blog posts. Sorry for the delay. Just been busy with all the seasonal stuff. I hope you're all enjoying this most wonderful time of the year.*

I usually go home for the holidays, but this year I didn't have enough vacation days coming to me to warrant a trip out east, so I stayed around Toronto. Had a nice time getting together with friends and making music. Also took in the Kensington Market Festival of Lights procession, which has become something of a holiday tradition for me. This was my third.

It's a procession that takes place on the solstice to celebrate the return of light to the Earth (i.e., the days get longer after the solstice). People join in the procession--some carrying home-made lamps, candles and other forms of light, some dressed up in elaborate costumes--as it winds its way through the streets of Kensington Market. Along the way we are treated to fire-breathers, costumed characters on stilts, and various kinds of tableaux (some up on the rooftops and balconies), depicting a variety of things, from Asian tales to Aboriginal myths to some that are just plain... interesting. It all ends in a small city park where a huge papier machÈ icon of some sort (last year it was a phoenix; this year it was the sun) is burned in a bonfire, while the various costumed and stilt-wearing characters dance and a rag-tag band of Salvation Army deserters plays joyfully.

Here are some photos from previous years.

Christmas eve, I went to a church service/caroling night at Roy Thompson Hall. This was held by the Metropolitan Community Church Of Toronto, primarily known as a gay-positive church, so there was a nice feeling of inclusiveness in the air. My friend Sue and her family have been going to this Christmas eve service for a few years, and she graciously invited me to join them. The service featured a 50-person choir, a band with a small string section and a few horns, drums, bass, piano, organ. It was quite kick-ass. Lots of singing. Joy To The World, O Come All Ye Faithful, etc.

Now, it's been years since I stopped attending church. Recovering Catholic, don't you know. But I've always considered myself spiritual to some degree, more so in recent years. What do I believe? Well, although it's likely that my spiritual views will keep evolving throughout my life, at present they go something like this: There is no God, in the sense of a bearded man sitting on a throne in the clouds, directing things, handing out punishments and rewards. But "God" as the eternal, the divine? Maybe. Probably. If so, if there is "something out there", some energy or power, I believe it resides not "out there" at all, but in all of us, not as something external to us, which we then assign as the source of good (God) or evil (The Devil). The spiritual buck stops here. It is what we do in the world that causes good or evil.

And maybe not only does it (give "it" the name "God" if you want, or any of the many other names) reside in each of us, but in all living things. Maybe "it", "god" the "universal energy", whatever, is the sum total of all souls that have existed or will exist, or something, is some dimension of collective spiritual existence that we in this dimension can't begin to understand. Maybe. I haven't quite figured out this "unknowable" bit yet. I'm working on it.

It's closer to a neo-Pagan idea, I suppose. (see Festival Of Lights, above.) And I like that. Thinking that there is something beyond (further along, as the song says), that we rejoin after we leave this mortal plane. But not something foreign. A one-ness. Unity. Eternal. Not blessed or damned, divine or evil, just...everything. Peace. Eternal Composure.

The sea refuses no river.

Anyway, I say all that because the sermon at this service, delivered by the church's pastor, Reverend Brent Hawkes, marked the first time that a preacher actually made the Christmas message sound like something real and meaningful to me. He said he wanted to stress a different aspect of the Christmas message; that Jesus in the manger represents God becoming human, yes, but put another way, God in human form. God as us. God in us. And he ended by saying, imagine when the God in me encounters the God in you... imagine what we could accomplish.

Here was a minister from one of the world's major religions--the very ones that I'd largely written off years ago--presenting the concept of the Christmas story to me in a way that fit quite nicely into my current relatively alternative spirtual beliefs.

Another Christmas miracle!

After years of Catholic sermons that seemed lost in their own dogmatism and stale rhetoric, smothered in a fog of incense and ceremony, this was like a breath of fresh air. I never truly felt anything about the Christmas story held any relevance in my own life. I suppose since I never quite accepted the idea that we are all branded as "sinners" from birth, the idea that Jesus was sent to save us...well, as a message, it always struck me about as relevent as the pitch from those people who phone me up to sell me carpet cleaners for my hardwood floors. Yes, I'm sure it's a fine product, but y'see...

But now, here was a way for me to conceive of the Christmas message as a metaphor (as all good religious messages should be taken) that I could finally internalize: God is us.

Not that I have any plans to start attending church services again, but at least in years to come, whenever I see a nativity scene or a silver star atop a tree, I'll see not a stale icon I've long disconnected from, but rather a representation of the light that shines within us and amongst us.

That's a good message.

Peace, out.



* level of wonderfulness experienced may vary.

Time Is A Jet Plane

Oh, what's this? A free moment to update my blog!

...oops, there it goes...

[sigh]

That Fine Line Between Reality And Satire Runs Straight Through Moncton

Like most liberal-minded people, I'm all in favour of the concept of unions. But this story (from my former stomping grounds), is certainly a case of a principle taken to absurd lengths.

That's why I find this story fascinating. You can easily imagine it as a piece of social satire, stretching an idea into the realm of the absurd to make a point. It would be a textbook example of satirical commentaryóif it weren't ruined by being true-to-life.

I love the quote from the city spokesman. Gotta love understatement.

I would also like to nominate the title of this blog entry as my favourite so far, as well as being the title of my upcoming novel (to be completed sometime this century, I promise).

Consumption Junction

Interesting idea posted on the GTABloggers site for observing Buy Nothing Day tomorrow.

I like it! Good thing it's happening now though, as opposed to a few weeks from now when the xmas shopping frenzy will be at its height. Because then the zombies would simply blend in.

ah-choo

I god a code.
*sniff*

Weirder & Weirder

Okay, this horoscope thing is starting to freak me out. Today's was another strange one. Here's the background:

I'm currently working on a story for the SOCAN web page. It's a story I pitched to them about musicians who are earning some SOCAN money for their music, but who need to keep a day job to pay the bills. Since there's no database of musicians with day jobs out there--at least none that I know of--I pretty much had to go with musicians I knew who fell into that category. That's where my experience writing the Showcase page in Canadian Musician came in handy.

So I interviewed Linda M (works as a "background person" in film and TV) and Colleen Power in Newfoundland (works at a savoury farm, packaging) and Jay Clark Reid of Jay Clark And The Jones (works as wait staff at local eatery/bar/music spot C'est What). I had hoped to talk to Jim Bryson, because he had worked at Songbird music store in Ottawa, but his people never got back to me. So, that's when I got hold of Jay, as kind of a last-minute replacement. (No offence, Jay, if you're reading this. You were on my list, but I was trying to get a geographically diverse trio and I already had local Linda. Don't want to seem Toronto-centric. But when I didn't hear from Bryson, you got the call. Plus, waiting tables is the traditional musician's/actor's day job, so it was nice to get that angle in there.)

So, given that scenario, here's the last sentence (it's always the last sentence!) in my horoscope from this morning...

"Last-ditch effort resumes to find a replacement."

!!!!!!

[cue Twilight Zone theme music]

Zodiac My Back!

Okay, first a bit of background: About two years ago, I started getting these nagging pains from inside my left shoulder blade, running down the back of my left arm. Tingling in the fingers. I went to the doctor, and he determined it was nerve-related, and sent me for some physiotherapy. First they hooked my arm up to a TENS machine (electrodes placed on the arm, which sends little electric pulses through the nerves), then they put me in traction for a series of half-hour sessions. That helped somewhat, but I was still in some discomfort. X-rays proved inconclusive, so they scheduled me for an MRI. They put me on the "express" schedule, which meant that if I sheduled it for a 3 a.m. session, I only had to wait three months to get in.

By that time, the pain had mostly subsided, but the MRI did reveal that I had a compressed disc just below my neck. The disc was bulging slightly into the spinal column, causing the pain. The specialist at Sunnybrook told me that surgery was an option, but that if it's not hindering my life--and at that point it wasn't--then I may as well just leave it alone. Fine by me. Back surgey not something I'm excited about venturing into unless absolutely necessary.

So, fast forward to about six weeks ago, and I'm starting to get the pain again. Again to the doctor, again with the physiotherapy, again with the scheduled MRI in the fairly distant future. Only this time the physio involves neck/back exercises, ultrasound, TENS and back massage. Had my first massage session on Monday. The therapist is very cool, quite funny and seems to have a very intuitive sense with muscles. Spoke about "listening" to what the muscles had to tell her. Her hands are good ears. But she's kind of whacky, too. Breaks into fake Russian accents now and then. "Ees good, yah?" It was great though. I had no idea my muscles were so tight and knotted.

Add to this, the fact that I also hurt my knee last week while playing ball hockey. Almost hyper-extended it, but not as bad as that. I was turning to run up "ice" (read: floor) and my foot just landed weird, my leg was straight when my weight came on it, and I kind of jammed my knee. Crumpled to the floor in pain, and limped off. Had to sit out a few shifts, but I was able to walk it off and get back in the game. It's still a bit tender, but I can walk on it okay.

So, that leads us to today's horoscope in the Metro transit newspaper. I've written here before about the strange horoscopes this paper offers. Ones that advise me to buy new footwear (I did) and look under the bases of trees for things I've lost (I did. Nothing there).

So, keeping in mind that yesterday was my first back massage therapy session, here's the last sentence from my horoscope today:

"Knees and back must be catered to for pain relief."

I kid you not! Is that freaky, or what?

A Jolly Swag Man

I went to our semi-annual Returned Merchandise Sale at work today, and came away with a very nice box o' swag. This is where Columbia House employees are allowed to comb over thousands of CDs, VHS movies and DVDs that customers have returned for one reason or another. In most cases there's nothing wrong with the product. And the price is certainly right. CDs go for $3 (double CDs count as one); DVDs for $5. Multiple-disc sets are the best bargain. You pay the $3 for the first CD, and then each extra disc is a dollar, so a 4-CD boxed set would cost $6. For a 4-disc DVD set, you pay for the first three only. So that's $15. We're limited to 20 DVDs, and there's an overall limit if $200. We're allowed only one CD boxed set.

This is my fourth or fifth sale, and I still have boxes of CDs from previous years that I haven't listened to more than once (I gave them a spin to make sure there are no defects, but haven't returned to most of them, or even had time to file them in my CD rack). So this time, I was hunting DVDs. But my strategy is to first go for the CD boxed sets, since they tend to get picked over quickly. Fortunately, the tastes of the vast majority of my co-workers run more to the mainstream, so the stuff that I'm interested in usually gets passed over. Heh heh.

So here's the swag list:

CDs:

The Last Waltz Boxed Set (4 CDs) ($6!)
Son Volt - Trace
Pink Floyd - Dark Side Of The Moon (SACD)
Lou Reed - Transformer (Remastered)
Radiohead - Hail To The Thief

DVDs:

Bob Dylan, Don't Look Back
The Beatles, A Hard Day's Night: Deluxe Edition (2 discs)
The Last Waltz: Special Edition
Bruce Springsteen, The Complete Video Anthology
Pink Floyd, The Wall
This Is Spinal Tap (1 hour of extra, never-before-seen footage!)
Almost Famous: The Bootleg Cut (2 discs & Stillwater ep)
American Beauty
Brazil
The Hurricane (just because I have a walk-by scene as an extra)
Blade Runner: The Director's Cut
Apocalypse Now
Reservoir Dogs: 10th Anniversary Special Edition (2 discs)
Pulp Fiction
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
2001: A Space Oyssey
The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers
The Lord Of The Rings: Fellowship Of The Ring - Special Extended Edition (4 discs) (beautiful set for $15!)

All of this for a grand total of $108, which just gets taken off my next pay cheque.

Now, I just need to get myself a DVD player.

Sites For Sore Eyes

There are always lots of wacky web things to be found in WFMU's Sites For Sore Eyes, but raptureletters.com takes the cake.

If you wish to do something now that will help your unbelieving friends and family after the rapture, you need to add those persons email address to our database. Their names will be stored indefinitely and a letter will be sent out to each of them on the first Friday after the rapture. Then they will receive another letter every friday after that.

How thoughtful of The Saved. It's comforting to know that The Chosen Ones are able to be this considerate. Not only will they leave a note behind, we'll get it emailed to us every Friday. Spam from the great beyond. For eternity.

Actually, I'm hoping the rapture happens fairly soon. The sudden heaven-exodus of millions of people will mean that there'll be some cool apartments available. And think of what it'll do to the real estate market. It'll be a buyer's bonanza! Newly married non-believing couples will finally be able to afford a nice home in the suburbs. Maybe it'll free up whole buildings and condos that can then be converted into affordable housing for low-income non-believing families and the heathen homeless. Our new slogan will be: "Don't repent; Save your rent! Your dream home is at hand!"

Of course, maybe if some of The Saved had put as much thought and effort into helping the homeless and the less fortunate as they put into this wonderful software and web site...well, who am I to criticize The Saved? Guess it really isn't what ya know, but Who ya know.

And speaking of religion, who knew that stove burners were not that far removed from religious icons? Or what beautiful structures can be built when we put our heads together (scroll down to see the pics of the Ossuary In Sedlec, Czech Republic).

And surely something--or someone--has possessed this three-year-old Korean girl.

Kinda makes you think, doesn't it? So make sure you live every day to the fullest, because you never know what might happen.

Radio, Radio

This is delicious! Check out this feature from Glorious Noise:

NEGATIVLAND PRANKS CLEAR CHANNEL,
FORCES RADIO FORMAT CHANGE.

High-larious! God bless Negativland and their little culture-jamming hearts.

To listen to their brilliant prank click here.

Like, boo!

Recently Observed

Best new band names:

Newfound Interest In Connecticut

Run With The Kittens

Haiku Night In Canada

The local CBC radio program "Here & Now" has been running a wonderful contest called "Haiku Night In Canada" (for those of you who aren't Canadian, "Hockey Night In Canada" is the nationally televised CBC broadcast of Saturday night NHL hockey games--a cultural institution. cf. "Monday Night Football").

Today was the last entry date, and I got my entries in just in time. You can see some of the entries here. Mine are near the bottom.

The rules stipulate one entry per contestent, but it seemed like everyone else was submitting multiples, so...I jumped off that cliff too.

Take The Good

Here's an Elliott Smith MP3, courtesy of the indie label he had worked with, Kill Rock Stars. This is one of the better songs from his Either/Or album. A little more folk-punk-ish than the more elaborate arrangements on later albums.

Between The Bars

There are also live MP3s available for download here.

Miss Misery Loves Company

October is turning out to be a brutal month. More leaves falling than usual. I didn't expect to be writing two suicide entries in a row.

Elliott Smith. Now gone.

Damn.

I was shocked when I read the news. It literally jolted me in my seat. But I can't say I was surprised. In the past year or so, while fans like me waited for him to release a new album, I had been hearing some disquieting accounts of messy live performances where Elliott was barely able to make it through songs, such as this review of a Chicago show opening for Wilco. It seemed Elliott was struggling with demons and chasing dragons. That review in Glorious Noise even strongly suggested that it was a battle he was bound to lose sooner than later. That prescience was sadly and bitterly noted in today's obit piece.

I reviewed a show he played here at the Opera House in 1999, and concluded by lamenting the fact that it ended too soon. Now I'm reprising that lament for the man himself.

He had apparently almost completed his long-awaited and much-delayed sixth album From A Basement On The Hill, which is reportedly an amazing piece of work. And he had released a single. No irony in the name of the record label. Jeezus.

If you don't know Elliott Smith's music, do yourself a favour and pick up Either/Or, X/O and Figure 8. I recommend the latter two especially.

His music was beautiful. Scratch that. His music is beautiful. Fragile. Turbulent. Tender. The closest thing to a post-grunge Beatles that I've heard. But certainly listening to his songs, you knew that he was, at his core, a troubled soul.

And yet...I don't know...how can someone write a song like "Say Yes", as poignant and achingly beautiful as anything from Alex Chilton or Paul Westerberg, and then end up ultimately saying the biggest No. At the same time, as generally positive as that song is ("I'm in love with the world through the eyes of a girl who's still around the morning after") it, like many of his songs, certainly reveals his insecurities...

Situations get fucked up
and turned around sooner or later...

I'll probably be the last to know
No one says until it shows
and you see how it is
They want you or they don't
Say yes

I just wish he would have been able to say Yes for a little while longer.

I'll give Elliott the last word:

Independence Day

Future butterfly
Gonna spend the day higher than high
You'll be beautiful confusion, ooh
Once I was you

I saw you caught between
All the people out making the scene
And a bright ideal tomorrow, ooh
Don't go too far
Stay who you are

Everybody knows
You only live a day
But it's brilliant anyway

I saw you in a perfect place
It's gonna happen soon but not today
So go to sleep and make the change
I'll meet you here tomorrow
Independence day
Independence day
Independence day

The Sea Refuses No River

It's always sad to learn that someone has taken their own life. I didn't really know Sofa/Noel very well; just through common membership in some on-line communities--the Elvis Costello list and the spin-off Splinter group. He seemed like a very interesting and creative person. My friend Dean--who regular readers will know from the thoughtful and often mischievous comments he leaves for me--was a close friend of Sofa's, and I feel for him, for the loss he's feeling now.

There are so many feelings that come with news of a suicide. There's the sense of guilt; that maybe we could have done more, made a difference. There's loss of course, and a sense of waste. Then there's the anger. How could they be so selfish? Didn't they consider the pain and confusion they'd leave behind in the people who loved them? (The radio in my head is playing Lucinda Williams' "Sweet Old World" over and over.) But though we draw sustenance and support from community, family and friends, I think we're each ultimately responsible for our own lives, or as my ex, Elaine, used to say, we're all alone. I don't wish to presume to know, but I can only surmise that Sofa felt there was no other option open for him. If that's the case, I hope he made the right decision for himself, and I hope he's found composure.

This weekend I'll be getting together with many of my friends, and I think, maybe, it's changed the colour of that event for me. I hope anyway, that I'll appreciate them all a little more, and be a little more grateful for their friendship and their uniqueness. And hopefully I can let them know in my own way that they make my life better and easier.

And yes, Dean, it is a good time to read this again. Thank you for that, by the way. It makes me feel better.

©© Rider

Do any of you fellow bloggers know what the story is on copyrighting the contents of one's blog? Is it binding? Can I simply put a © on the bottom, and say "contents copyright 2003 Jim Kelly" or something?

Yes, Alanis, There Is Irony

Received this unsolicited email today:

Spam Exterminator v.2.1 Pro (3.43Mb)

Description:
The powerful, effective and intelligent anti-spam tool.
It automatically cleans spam messages out of your mailbox before you receive or read them.

The most effective email pitch I ever ignored.

On The Groove

Some words of wisdom from bluesman Taj Mahal from an article in the October issue of Guitar Player magazine.

"...There's really only one groove," says Mahal, "And that's the groove that makes you dance. And I'm not just talking about the latest hip-snap, but the stuff that really has legs underneath it--unlike the music of many mainstream artists today--doesn't completely remove you from the thought process. I'm not saying you can't 'bling bling.' Bling all you want, but while you're doing it, why don't you bling something deeper into your music? Why don't you bling with the Africans, the Brazilians, the Cubans, and the Turks? Take the time to dip the ladle back into the primordial soup and put some hair on that animal."

And more on the groove...

"A good groove should be a release from all the crazy stuff that's coming at you all the time. It should be a place that is far away from all those things you can't do anything about."

Amen.

Submitted Without Comment

"Are you a musician?"

Now you can respond to this question by saying, "well, yes, I play a little guitar"óand truly mean a little guitar!

More Sites For Sore Eyes, from WFMU.

Word

I'd often wondered about the etymology of the word nuptials. Now, thanks to Dictionary.com's Word Of The Day, I need wonder no more.

Nuptial comes from Latin nuptialis, from nuptiae "marriage, wedding," from the past participle of nubere, properly, "to cover, to veil," hence, "to marry," as the head of the bride was covered with a veil.

And in the interests of perpetuating smartassedness everywhere, here is the etymology of the word etymology:

Middle English etimologie, from Old French ethimologie, from Medieval Latin ethimologia, from Latin etymologia, from Greek etumologi : etumon, true sense of a word; see etymon + -logi, -logy.

Putting The Fun in Fungus

Butch Mushroom

Morning Moolah Manna

I stopped at a generic bank machine in Kennedy Station on the way to work yesterday morning. Pressed the button to withdraw $80, and the machine spit out three 20s. I counted them again. Yep, just three. Thought for a second that I may have pressed $60 instead, but no, I'm sure I pressed $80.

It gets stranger.

I read the receipt, and it looked like it said $40 withdrawn. So...I wanted $80, got $60, and was debited for $40? But the receipt was printed oddly, the numbers all squished-together-like, so it was hard to tell if it was a 6 or a 4. But also on the receipt, it read "total requested amount could not be dispensed". I shrugged and shuffled off to catch the RT.

Later, at work, I checked my account transactions through on-line banking. My account had been debited $81.50 (service charge), then that transaction was reversed, and then it was indeed debited only $40.

So I got $20 free from the bank! Woo!
Pizza for dinner tonight!

Juan With The Wind

I phoned home tonight to check in with the folks in P.E.I., to see how they were dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Juan. Turns out that the western part of the Islandówhere my parents and most of my Island-resident siblings live, in Summersideówas untouched. However, Charlottetown, farther to the east, was hit harder, I was told, with some roofs blown off and boats in the harbour smashed. Not quite as bad as Halifax, it seems, which was the exact point of landfall for the storm.

Now they're saying Hurricane Kate is possibly up next. (I think I may have dated her once.)

Of course, even while poles were being blown down, the polls stayed open for the P.E.I. election. Voter turnout: more than 80%! Apparently some people actually had to vote in the dark. Guess that explains how they ended up re-electing a record third straight majority Tory government.

Some Guys Have All The Luck

Another interesting ad from the Craigslist. Normally I try not to be too judgmental when it comes to people's sexual kinks. Whatever turns you on (provided it doesn't hurt someone else...that is, unless they want it to hurt...but that's another subject). But there's something vaguely unhealthy about the kink in this ad. I mean, on the one hand I think, "fine, if all parties involved are into it, and that's what gets them off, knock yerselves out." But then...well, I'll let you decide.

Disabled man wanted by two women - 32 (Toronto)
Reply to: anon-16888408@craigslist.org
Sat Sep 27th

Able-bodied bisexual female couple would like to meet a good-looking man for friendship and sex, who is either paraplegic, an amputee, or uses crutches/braces. Drinks, non-penetrative fun, brunch?

Any Freudians out there care to take a crack at this one?

Talkiní TV Blues

I'm not what you might call an avid TV person. There aren't many programs that can rearrange my schedule. But tonight's TV line-up presents some tough choices:

- "Six Feet Under" on Showcase - The first season. I love this series!

- "Martin Scorsese presents The Blues" - First of a 7-part series on PBS.

- "Coyote Ugly"

What to do, what to do...

Steely Pandering

Since humourous lists seem to be so popular around here... well, here's another! I found this one on the Steely Dan web site while I was there today. Had to write some copy about their new album, so I was gathering info. It's actually a pretty funny web site.

So if it's funny lists you want, let's... Do It Again!
EXPRESSIONS TO AVOID DURING A RECORDING SESSION

[íCourse this one might be a little funnier for those of you who are musicians]

Muchos Blogias!

A big thank-you to the folks at Blogger Support for finding and fixing the problem with my blog template. Seems a '<' was being converted to an HTML character code at the end of my counter script.

A here I thought it might have been a loose gemsunsaddle obstructing my universal sprocket.

Strokes Of Genius

I don't know happened to my lovely blog. The whole right side is gone. It's like a blog stroke or something. I couldn't see anything abnormal in the template code, but I'll haver closer look "under the hood".

In the meantime, for your reading pleas-or, here are this year's winners in the Washington Post's Style Invitational [thanks Erwin]:

The Washington Post's Style Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are this year's winners:

1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people, which stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.

......And the Grand Winner is:

18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

Resist!

Ticketmaster has come up with an oh-so-brilliant strategy to combat ticket scalping: becoming the biggest scalper on the block.

Wonderful.

"Superior apples just don't grow on trees."

Wow! A chance like this doesn't come around very often. Put on your creative thinking caps kids, because Agriculture Canada wants Canadians to name a new variety of apple.

Hmmm...
Pomme de Terror?
Juicy Newton?
Fantastico?

In Rotation Today

Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Steve Earle, Jerusalem
Bruce Springsteen, The Rising

Yes Comments

Comments are baaaaaaack!

Nailing My Files

I was wondering what the chances are that I would be one of the people targeted by the RIAA for file-sharing. (Leaving aside the fact that the RIAA is an American group, and I don't think they have jurisdiction beyond their own borders... do they?)

I do have more than 1,000 MP3s in my share folder. The vast majority of them, however, are rare or unreleased tracks, or "unofficial" live recordings. Still, does that make me a "node"?

But according to that article, the kinds of music files the RIAA's hard-drive bloodhound looks for include such songs as:

ï Bobby McFerrin, ìDonít Worry, Be Happyî
ï Thompson Twins, ìHold Me Nowî
ï Eagles, ìHotel Californiaî
ï George Michael, ìKissing A Foolî
ï Paula Abdul, ìKnocked Outî
ï Green Day, ìMinorityî
ï UB40, ìRed Red Wineî
ï Ludacris ìArea Codesî
ï Marvin Gaye, ìSexual Healingî
ï Avril Lavigne, ìComplicatedî

Okay, with the possible exception of Marvin's classic, I think I can breathe easier. Sometimes it pays to have good taste.

Warren, Peace

I'll join the blog chorus in wishing Warren Zevon an easy rest. Good stuff, Mr. Z. Thanks. What can you say at this point about a guy who faces his imminent death with humour and classóand releases a version of "Knockiní On Heaven's Door" as a single! I'll just let him have the last say:

"I've already led two lives. I got to be a wild, crazy, Jim Morrison quasi-rock star...and I got to be a sober dad for 18 years. I can't possibly complain."

No Comments

It appears my comments provider, YACCS, is down for maintenance. This from their web site:

Rate Your Music and YACCS are unavailable due to a server failure.

Estimated time for fix: September 8, 7PM EST

Update (September 3, 4:35 PM EST): It looks like the old server is still failing intermittently. I can't debug the problem (since the server is located across the country), so the quickest solution is to ship a new server to the colocation facility. I'm going to build a server tomorrow and ship it on Friday. It should arrive Monday, September 8 around 6PM EST and should be online around 7PM.

Again, I apologize for the downtime. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do to speed things up; the process of ordering and shipping a server takes time, and yesterday was the first day since the outage that any stores were open.

The good news is that the new server is much better than the old one, so the site should be significantly faster/more responsive once it's running.

Thanks for your patience and understanding.

So I guess I'll sit tight and see if the service improves. In the mean time, if you want to leave a comment, you can always click my name at the bottom of the post and send me an email. Not quite as interactive and community-like, but it's all I can offer.

SITES FOR SORE EYES

[From WFMU]


BEATALLICA
www.beatallica.org
Publicity photos, fan art, and crazy Beatles tunes, done Metallica style.

BIG ALIEN CATS
www.bigaliencats.com/sight.htm
Ah, another clear example of the "too much time on hands" phenomenon.

BLACK DIAMOND: AN UNREAL NEAL DIAMOND EXPERIENCE
www.blackdiamondvocals.com/home.cfm
"It all started at eleven years old, when the two hundredth Caucasion [sic] lady leaned over the back of the church pew and said, "young man, you sound just like Neil Diamond". Unbeknownst to me, it was at that moment the Black Diamond show was born!"

BUILDINGS OF DISASTER
www.mossonline.com/asp/productshow.asp?prd_id=1027&pc_parent_id=151
Tasteless or commemorative? Only you can decide-but it will cost you $95.

MR. WONG'S SOUP'PARTMENTS
www.mrwong.de/myhouse/index.htm
The world's largest pixel-art virtual skyscraper, topping out in excess of 1000 meters and 331 virtual residents. Jesus, a karate class, Andre the Giant, and anti-IMF demonstrators are all virtual residents-and you can be too, with just a little bit of work.

ORIGINAL MULLET WIGS
www.mulletwigs.com/
"These fine-quality wigs cost only $19.99 each!" A small price to pay for irony.