projects of others

Here are some things friends have done/are doing.

The After School Club series has its first episode up. Get on the train now while it's still in the station.

Equally exciting Do Whatever! has its first three episodes up. That link takes you to episode one, but make sure you watch all three, especially the third one. It's my favourite.

And finally, if you're reading this today...March 3rd! you should come out to the Feint Of Hart show tonight. Penultimate! (that means second to last).

10pm in Hart House and it's free. But things start to fill up around 9 so get there early and often.

FoH EPISODE V RECAP from H F on Vimeo.

mercy

There's not much going on, so there's not much to write about.

The new roomy has arrived for the month of January whilst D-Hammer and Annie are in Hawaii. She (Katie) seems to be settling in, or at least hasn't complained yet.

Last night I made my first giant batch of curry (red lentil coconut variety from Simply in Season) of the season and had a some peeps over for noshing. I hadn't had the most productive day, trapped reading too many too long articles from Vanity Fair and Harper's...oh shit. I just opened a bunch more articles. Heh. Unemployment!

Err, where was I. Oh yes. Because I had spent too much time reading interesting articles I hadn't gone to the grocery store for the ingredients to what I had intended to be some personal curry, which in turn meant I wasn't going to be able to make The Hurt Locker showing at 4:15. You can see what kinds of dilemmas I find myself in. Anyway, in a bit of a grump I decided to skip the film and on my way to groceries I realized I like people, so I sent out a casual word to a few (sorry if you weren't one of them) inviting them to dinner. After scurrying to the store and back, and cook-cook-cooking up a storm everything was ready for people to arrive. Which they did, a few minutes later than anticipated.

Perfect? They yeahs have it.

Long story short, lots of curry (enjoyed by all and sundry) with lots left over for later dates and times.

So I did have a few things to say.

What else? (I like to pretend this is a blog blog blog, where there are strangers reading it. People who I don't talk to on a regular basis who actually need all the minutiae of my life lest they feel lost.)

I'm working on some stuff. A short story has been submitted to Broken Pencil's Indie Writers' Deathmatch. Unfortunately, after frantically typing and editing New Year's Eve to get it in before the deadline the sons of guns extended said deadline for more than a week. Maybe that means there aren't many entrants and I'll win for sure! It's happened before.

Hopefully more to follow on that front.

And I'm writing some other stuff. The poem I'm working on now partly inspired by all the L. Cohen I'm reading.

Here's another bit of his genius. Believe it or not this post was only going to be this poem but then it grew and grew.

Believe it!

The Flood

The flood it is gathering

Soon it will move

Across every valley

Against every roof

The body will drown

And the soul will break loose

I write all this down

But I don't have the proof

As true now as when it was written, apparently in the Sinai in 1973. I really wish I'd spent more time writing poetry when I was travelling. Oh well, next time!

Trampoline Hall

Went to Trampoline Hall for the first time last night and enjoyed myself thoroughly. All the speakers were great and I walked away feeling depressed! What more could you want in an evening out? Depressed, but only because there are so many amazing people out there doing cool things and I continue being me. I think it's a good sadness to have, one that will inspire. OR crush my very soul and encourage me in more lawerly pursuits.

The speakers were:

Mary Albino - The Mean Problem

Instead of a diatribe about the film Mean Girls we received a lesson on the dangers of averages, what can be lost in the morass of numbers and summation.

Christine Pountney - Lot's Wife and the Art of Looking Back

Starting with an action many people do when leaving a building, looking over their shoulder in the direction they aren't going, launched us on a discussion of paths not taken, nostalgia and dementia, memory and the joys of living if not in, at least with the past.

For her a life gains stability and relevance only so far as all the experiences leading to you-now are remembered and cherished. Even/especially the bad ones.

Kristy Willow - Transitioning

Coming from the personal experience of discovering her dual-sexed nature following a heart attack and 28 minute death at the age of 50 plus, the talk focused on finding doors and going through. Choices can be good or bad, but if it turns out being the latter there's always the next door to try.

After the show Daydream and I walked down Ossington, contemplating all that had passed our ears and falling into our traditional staccato banter about where we are going, what we are doing and how we should get there.

As I say above, I don't know if what I saw at the event scares or inspires. Maybe both. But it's certainly better than the stare at the computer screen, indecisive, nothingness that seems to fill too much of my downtime. I still have no idea about anything except now I know I need to keep pushing myself. Out there. I need to see people do what I want to do, but more amazingly.

Maybe I'll just get a pleasant evening out of the deal, but the hope is it will push me toward something significant of my own.

Daydream reminded me I need to get away from the endless end result speculation that haunts my being. Instead of creating to create, doing things because I love them, there's a hint of doing things because it will bring me success. Money-whore and attention seeker. A man without confidence who needs the constant reassurance and praise of those around him, and if only the whole world could see his majesty, then they too would throw up their arms and lose their minds in rhapsodic praise.

Too often I miss the now, focusing instead on the awaiting future or perhaps fester upon the past I've let slip me by.

Oh you. Coming at things all wrong. If I'm going to write, I need to write without goals for a little while, create without direction and see what comes. Answer some big questions; If I'm not doing this stuff, is it because I see it as a chore? Do I even have the passion I claim? Do my passions lie elsewhere?

Questions I've asked and answers I've known, leading nowhere for years. Let's see what I can do with them this time round. Remember, getting nowhere can take forever and I'd do well not to waste eternity.

The mental anguish and joy of an evening well spent, summed up in a wee Twitter poem, re-posted here because not everyone reads the sidebar and what's the internet if not an echo chamber to reconfirm existence on a regular basis?

I need to find a crack to pull myself through WORDS need actions or die BUT the streetcar thrums and the city speaks of nothing but choice

(I even maintained the silly caps on instead of punctuation format!)

As Daydream said, Heh, it's a very nice bit of self expression via high tech communications.

For the time being that will have to do.

The Macallan

Wonder of wonders, I was invited to a classy event last night! Finally I understand why I have my hair cut by Enzo from time to time.

(insert photo of me standing around, looking casually delicious - never taken - here)

The event was a Macallan scotch tasting and as if that wasn't classy enough One Restaurant (Hazelton Hotel) was the setting and Matchstick played host. Toon was my hook-up and Deck was along as well. Smart girl that Toon, showing up at an event about 90% boys with 2 of her own.

(Toon has more photos - mostly her legs but I'm in there too - here, with the promise of more still to come)

Well. As long as she's happy.

We had the the pleasure of our whiskey guide Marc's knowledge, and 10, 12, 15, 18 and 21 year old vintages with which to wet our whistles.

Much to my delight geography featured heavily in the evening's information. Scotland to America and the north of Spain, we learned all about oaken varieties, cask manufacture and how distinct environments donate flavour to the drink through a woody medium.

Marc even gave us a chemistry lesson, the relative merits of ice cubes, ice balls and chilled Lake Ontario pebbles. Then threw in some economics as well, focusing on the impossibility of scotch soothsaying. Twenty-one years ago no one at Macallan could have predicted the recent scotch boom that has caused supply and demand conundrums the world over.

Heck, 21 years ago I was tidying up grade 1 art projects with Mrs. Kaufman, oblivious to everything save recess and what was in my nose.

Just like any normal red-blooded male, all the talk about barrel manufacture - bourbon in America, oaks in the north of Spain, 100 year plans for stave manufacture - got me thinking about maps.

Shocker! I know.

A map project that encapsulates the geographic spread of a bottle of scotch and the time it takes to come together would be fun. For that I'd need to think about ways to draw time alongside the spatial language maps are already so good at. There are examples, here's one of Napoleon's ill-fated march on Moscow, so I have a starting point. Don't know what the end result will be, but here's hoping for giggles.

Oh right...the tasting part. Delicious!

The 10 year old was smooth, as was the 12 but with more complexity (is that the word that makes me sound clever?). I found the 15 had more of a smoky edge, it strangely reminded me of some Islay malts. The 21 year old was mellow in an inexplicable and delightful way, one that I can't really remember but know I want to try again. Then the 18...ah the 18. Finally a scotch where I could taste the toffee, the fruit and the layers that all those people that drink the stuff are always talking about. And for the low low price of $289 a bottle!

Let me join you scotch drinkers! Give me money, then let me join you.

But seriously, as Mark repeated over the evening, there's no need to be a snob around scotch. If it tastes right for you, it's the scotch for you. There's so much variety in palate and preference, sometimes changing over the course of a day, to become too concerned with age and cost is to miss the point.

A great event! And to top it off they sent us home with a lovely little loot bag. Tumbler and samplers and tasting cards, oh my.

And I won the draw meaning + one bottle of the 10 year old for me!

Here's me bemused and confused, basking in the glow of applause that broke out (not just Deck) upon my name being announced.

I work hard.

I deserve it.

I think Toon was jealous, then she stole some when I wasn't looking. Thief! Damned thief that brought me to the event in the first place, therefore all is forgiven.

We were even taxi chitted all the way home. Given the evening started with a streetcar driver telling me I don't like being hailed like a cab this seemed like a nice way to finish up.

-some photos courtesy of the organizers

...and the rest of my day

You would think, standing up from a man who had fallen in the street would be enough to reset my brain, inspire me to smiles and bring thanks for my existence.

No way.

I brooded through the art stores and clothing boutiques as I made my way along Queen, contemplating the notion of nice pants and $400 boots. Quality versus ubiquity, everyone scurrying looking and buying. My unconflicted love affair with consumerism continues.

Did you know there is a paper store south of TB Park? Just paper. Such variety.

Then with a dark sky threatening (that's all it did) and my stomach grumbling I made my way home.

Fortunately Annie was about, so I vented my spleen and felt better. Sometimes you need to hear someone else say something, even when you know the answer already. And sometimes you just need to hear something when you aren't even sure what questions you're asking. Keep on keeping on dear reader.

And then because I was in the mood to do something I followed Annie out on her comedy rounds. I'd missed the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde show Friday night at Comedy Bar. That featured sober performances, followed 3 hours later by the same show but with the performers toxified in various ways. It was apparently awesome and I didn't want to miss any more fun.

Friday's show was good in part because a Chicago performer was in town and all the other people wanted to break out their best stuff. Or at least so suggested Annie. We went to Unit 102, which is a great little venue featuring an LCBO across the road and enjoyed a bunch of stuff including said Chicagoan, Jet Eveleth by name. Hilarity reigned.

She did this bit. Supremely funny, and of course even more so when I saw it, LIVE!

Then we motored north to Comedy Bar to catch the end of Jet Fighter Pilots before heading home to watch Empire of the Word.

Empire of the Word is very exciting for me. A documentary on reading and how it has affected society over time, I saw an ad for it on TV the other day and was rambling on about it last night when Annie informed me she had a screener copy of the whole series.

Win, me!

What I remember was good. I was too tired to follow it thoroughly but it's on DVD so I'll just try again later.

Who even regularly watches shows if they have to remember to sit down at the same time each week?

Cavemen. Stupid stupid cavemen.

born to busk at rancho relaxo

If I was in a corn farming cooperative I'd want to call it Born to Husk. And then the other farmers would kill me.

But seriously folks.

Last night, Wednesday night, was a night for good times and good music at Rancho Relaxo. Born to Busk, Deck's band, were playing a set so despite an early morning wake-up for work I went out. And yes, I have settled on Deck, which is Toon's blog name for him but why reinvent the wheel?

Anyway, there are no pictures, good blogging me, but a good time was had by all. niXon was there (that's a new nickname and I think it's a good one for her because she is not a crook, just a candy fiend) as well as Chewy (damn this should just be the introduce a bunch of new nicknames post. This nickname came about because I am stupid and half deaf). This is Chewy's face. I'm really working my way into the Toronto blog scene now, I'll tell you what, what what!

There was an opening band, heavily influenced by The Killers. Their lead singer had a high school jacket that said Jets and that's all I have to say about them.

Then there was an outdoor adventure made amusing by a wee blond boy and his crack friendly female companions who kept telling him to Run! Run! Run! This was funny for a bit as he carried his chubby little body along with an amusing strait legged gait. Then he started coughing some dry long wheezy thing that should only come from a 70 year old 3 packs a day for the last 55 years kinda guy. I became slightly less amused.

And then there was B to B. I danced, Toon danced, Chewy danced, niXon bopped (she might have danced, I didn't see) and a bunch of other people flailed.

Then I went home with buzzing ears - why sound people? why so loud? - and was unable to fall asleep. Hey! Perfect.

No matter. I was up and at work on time. In time in fact for the morning meeting to hear, amongst other things, jeans aren't cool for work unless they are black and tailored. We need to look professional for the 8 year olds. My pants do have a hole in the bum, so I guess I was pushing my luck right from the start. Meh, I needed to get new pants anyway.

The end.

Good Bye TOMson

Another week, another going away party. This time though, it's for the guy over to the right. That guy!

What's wrong, can't see his face? That's because he is a mystery.

TOMson is heading out west, to take up a new position with GreenPeace. It's funny, you'd think with all those dirty hippies on the west coast they'd be able to find someone to fill their management position, but apparently not.

So now they're poaching our very own dirty hippies to help run things.

Greedy, greedy west coast. Don't you have enough dirty hippies?

Okay, that's enough attempting to raise readership through scandal and conflict. Who needs that stuff anyway?

Dirty hippies.

Cheese and Fancy were there, looking, I believe the term is non-plussed.

Fancy has no excuse to scowl, but Cheese...well her feet are broken. Slowly healing. This was the first time she'd been out since she had surgery and her feet were feeling a bit heavy and uncomfortable. We got her there slowly but steadily. One third shuffle, one third crutching and one third exhilarating piggy back ride. After all day on the bus yesterday I was happy for the exercise. At least she was able to pull off the plastic bag and enormous protective booty combo stylishly. I know I couldn't.

By framing the shot thus ways, with Daydream's hands, I turned it into art.

I've been claiming a lot of my photos lately are art. Hopefully I'm not getting too pretentious. If I am, someone smack my head (but gently so as not to hurt me).

The Golden Girl was there, wearing a colour for the first time (that I can remember). It turned her into a light fixture obsessed demon of some sort, but no one is perfect so that's okay.

Then a series of fingers and thumbs appeared.

Followed by a red Toon. Doesn't she look happy? She keeps saying she's really happy and I would tend to agree.

And after a whole lot of hugging it was time to go. Someone in this picture smells funny. My guess is it's me.

Bye TOMson. You'll be missed but not forgotten. Heck, I might even see you out and about tonight for nuit blanche.

See ya later Slippers

I'm going to miss this guy.

We had drinks in his honour at the Press Club.

There were pears in the trees above us, consumed before they were even picked. Insects win again!

Daydream wanted to look like some sort of beer-shouldered-behemoth, so I obliged.

The Pope was there, chatting business (no doubt) with Toon.
I was talking with Messy (I'm working on this nickname, but for the time being look at that facial shag) about improv stylings. I did not trust his words.

Then Toon put on her sexy face.
And these last two shots...they're what I like to call art.
Goodbye Slippers. You will be missed. Thanks for the CD, the good times and a great summer.

It's great when you make a new friend, it's shitty when they move to the west coast, but then it's good once more because you remember you'll see them again and when you do the good times will recommence. Friends are great like that.

See you soon!
Park?

A close approximation of urban-youth-life during the early years of the 21st century

There really isn't much to say. Don't get me wrong. I've been doing lots. Tonnes if you will.

There has been a great deal of high speed running. Flat out, legs churning, arms thumping single minded pursuit of speed, and a frisbee. We have been playing a lot of frisbee. There has been some bocce. Went to the airshow. Had the air show come to me.

The list could go on. But it won't. Look at some of these things!

Did you know Toon likes to tell tales?

And her audience LOOOOOVES to listen. I don't remember what she was gumming about but everyone sure looks impressed.

This is a tower I can see from the park. I think it is top notch architectural genius.

Do you disagree? If you do I am going to put you squarely in the lame column. Unless your arguments are persuasive enough to convince me otherwise. Doubtful.

The CN Tower is brilliant fun for all sorts of aesthetic reasons. Personal taste things that are nigh on impossible to change through argument, so I guess you shouldn't bother trying to convince me of anything. I have just decided I am going to start writing periodic commentary on Toronto architecture. Maybe even have The Golden Girl in for some guest words. She's an architect after all.

Woah! And there she is on a bike. Her and LAWYER (I'm working on his nickname, but for the time being I want you to read that in a deep and loud voice) were practicing track stands. It's where you stay in one spot for extended periods of time without touching your feet to the ground. Useful for red lights and stabilizing your core!

PERFECT!

Wednesday holidays

Summer's end is fast approaching and one mustn't waste any of it. I don't know what you would do, but if you're me you make an exciting journey eastwards with your friends!

All the way to Oshawa and it's pleasant beach and shoreline park environs. Oshawa? you say, The place of cars that once were but are no more?. And I say Yep, that's the one. It's on the lake so it has a beach.

And boats! Or at least one boat.

I always take pictures of boats when I'm travelling and it isn't like this one is any less cool just because it's tooting its way into Oshawa harbour, so here it is.

It's important to stay covered up when in the sun, apparently. I find this strategy also helps with my allure. You know the ol' keep 'em guessing gambit.

Because later, when you start doing handstands, or ninja kicks, or performing The Lake Dance, you want to make sure you have maintained your dignity.

The ninja kick and parts of The Lake Dance are very similar, but I assure you distinct.

As you might have guessed I thought the water was pretty swell. Cheese found it a bit too cold (note cringe in hips) and Ash and Slippers never even tried the darned stuff out.

But everyone agreed bocce was top notch.

And hanging out around the table time was also a popular activity. What's a one day vacation without some of that sweetness?

After all that we even went bowling. No pictures of that glorious occasion, but I assure you I was by far the worst. I did improve each game and think I broke 75 by the end.

Satisfied.

District 9-some

District 9! Woot.

Great flick. Lots of cool visuals, amazing effects and another confirmation that WETA is destroying anything ILM tries to dream up. That's right, they are so good they are actually entering dreams and wreaking havoc.

Story was good, there were some unique structural elements that I enjoyed and there were even a few issues and themes that (gasp!) might make you think. Apartheid = bad. Check.

I saw it with Slippers, Alex and Mr. Mission and all seemed impressed. Mission presented a slightly dissenting opinion immediately after the film, but we badgered him until he changed his mind.

And as if that wasn't enough good times I had a delicious banana popsicle afterwards before we retreated to the park and bocci! I even won the first game. OUTSTANDING.