Collected Apologies

Motime is stealing MY money!

2011-07-25T18:55:00.000-07:00

I sure hope the google bots pick this up because the thieves at Motime continue to steal my money. Last month I noticed a $13 charge on my phone bill titled a subscription fee. I promptly called and they told me they cancelled my subscription and would refund me a portion of the money they billed to me without my permission. I even got a confirmation number (this was after I berated the call centre worker and his manager. That's unfair, you may say. It's not the man's fault that he works at a bad company. False. If you work for Tony Soprano, don't be surprised if bullets whiz by your head!)

So my next phone bill arrives and once again, another charge from Motime. Rogers won't do anything to protect its customer, so I've threatened to leave Rogers and contact the CCTS, CRTC and the BBB. That's a lot of letters to say the following:

Motime is a SCAM! They are stealing money from me. If they get a chance, they'll steal from you. Look at your telephone bill. They don't need your permission to sign you up for their subscription (they certainly didn't have mine). MOTIME is a scam! The workers at Motime are stealing money from me. That's not libel - it's fact.

Love in an Elevator

2011-07-24T11:55:00.000-07:00

I recently participated in a contest at work to win an iPad. Things were going well; I was tied for first place after having won a baking contest and a contest to guess the number of coins in a jar. Then it came down to a final contest: draft an elevator pitch in 200 words or less. The topic was carte blanche. The following was my entry for the pitch, and although it didn't win, I couldn't just erase the thing. So, here it is:

---

I’m Darth Vader, Senior Assistant VP to the Emperor of the Galactic Empire. We run a multi-planetary dictatorship that provides management and administration services for large and mid-size planets throughout the galaxy. We make decisions for people who are tired of making decisions for themselves. The Empire is recognized as a leader in technology, culminating in the design and implementation of our latest achievement: the Death Star.

The ask: We are appealing to VCs for growth capital to fund the completion of the Death Star which is a large space station, about the size of a small moon. It provides a home for thousands of our employees and serves as a mobile outpost, allowing us to call on our constituents and address their needs directly. It has only one vulnerability, which is a small thermal exhaust port, but it is only two metres wide so we are confident that this will never be exploited.

Our only known competitor is a small start-up known as the Rebel Alliance, whereas we have 20 years of proven leadership ability.

Recent accomplishments: Ever heard of a little planet called Alderaan? Me neither.

---

Here is the winning pitch:

Hello there, you look cold! I know it is a record hot day outside, but in the office the air conditioning is always blasting. Do you have trouble dressing appropriately for a summer work day? Is it too hot on the subway and too cold in your office? Well don’t worry because I have a solution for you!

My name is ?? and I am a direct seller for the Snuggie Corporation (hand shake). I have been selling Snuggies for 5 years and I have had zero complaints from customers. Our product is a soft fleece blanket with sleeves. The sleeves enable you to stay warm while typing on your computer, drinking coffee, or chatting with coworkers. We now offer a limited Corporate Edition Snuggie that is workplace appropriate. You can get it branded with your company logo so that everyone is matching. The best part is that the Snuggie can be left at your desk so you don’t have to carry a bulky sweater or coat. Also, if you purchase a Snuggie within the next 24 hours we will add on a complimentary office pass pocket so you will never lose your pass again.

Here is my card and please call me if you have any questions.

Cheers and have a great day (Hand over free gift)!

Farewell Grandma: a Valediction

2010-12-21T06:05:00.000-08:00

To say that Mae Harrison—Mother, Sister, Grandmother, Great Grandmother and Great-great Grandmother—was a good person, is like saying the sun is big. It’s true, but it doesn’t say enough. You’re leaving out so many important details like how bright the sun is; how it keeps us warm in the day and how dark the world gets when it’s gone.

My Grandmother—Gram to me and many of her grandkids—was a bright star who shone her light down on so many of us. In the days since her passing, I’m sure everyone who knew Gram has been thinking of all the great stories and little moments that make up her life.

It makes me smile to reach back beyond the darkness of her last few years to think of the moments, both big and small, that I was able to share with her: The happy summers I spent running around her back yard climbing her trees; the many Christmases I spent in her home absorbing the spectacle of Christmas decorations that adorned every inch of her tiny house as though Father Christmas had thrown up everywhere. I think happily of the times she singled me out and invited me as a kid to stay with her, or the excitement I would feel when I got home from school and heard her voice in the other room and I would run in and give her a big hug. I remember taking road trips with her out to Nova Scotia or off camping up north, a copy of the Righteous Brothers playing over and over again in the tape deck. I think of the happy day when she agreed to move in with my family and we were lucky enough to have her in our home, even for just a few years.

One story I don’t remember well but that Mom keeps repeating for me comes from a time when I was just a toddler. Grandma was on the phone and I had just pooped on the carpet. Ever the helpful and fastidious child, I picked the little parcel up and handed it to her saying, “here Grandma.” No screaming, no cries of horror, she just calmly spoke into her end of the phone and said, “Oh dear, I’ve got to go.” And she took care of it.

As I think about that story of so long ago, I realize it provides a metaphor for how she was in life. People came up to her, placed their poop in her hands and she would calmly, and always lovingly, take care of it for them. She shared everything she had, from those things she had in modest amounts like her money and her home, to those items in which she had an endless store (her love, her kindness). She was giving to the very end.

She was the matriarch, the nucleus of the family and our leader. Not a stern military commander but the warm glow; the glittering fire around which we would all gather for holidays, for times when we wanted to talk, to be happy or, in our sadness, to find comfort. It’s hard not to think about how cold it seems now. How lost we all feel.

The last years of her life were not easy. She struggled to fight an illness that tried to transform her into something else and although it took things from her, in the end, it never took her kind spirit or her beautiful smile. When I looked on Gram in her last years, perhaps she didn’t remember me, but she looked back on me with love and unfailing kindness.

On December 8, 1925, the world became a better place. Today, it feels a bit darker, a bit colder and a bit sadder. I look for the fire that once burned and see only ashes—feel only the memory of a warmth we used to crowd around. But feeling lost and looking up at the night sky, I am comforted. So distant, yet close enough I could reach up and touch it, Grandma’s star shines brightly; our angel, forever shining; forever watching over us.

Best Opening Lines

2009-11-29T07:52:00.000-08:00

I recently posted a question on facebook asking my friends for their entries into the best opening lines in a movie or novel. I got some great feedback, which is included below. Also, I wanted to throw a few more more suggestions in, because I enjoy these kinds of lists. So without further ado, some great opening lines:

Suggestions from Tim Lappala:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... And the whole paragraph that follows it. (I'm sad if it's gotten overexposed or out-of-fashion. If so I'll just have to accept that. I still love it.)

Five friends I had, and two of them snakes." - Godric, by Frederick Buechner.

"Thou aged unreluctant earth who dost
with quivering continual thighs invite
the thrilling rain the slender paramour
to toy with thy extraordinary lust,"
-Tulips & Chimneys, E.E. Cummings (not anovel but it is a book I love.

"Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo"
-Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce

"Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself."
-Mrs. Dalloway, o' course, by Virgina Woolf. For some reason I really like that sentence.

From Sarah Davies:

"Jack Torrance thought : Officious little prick." The Shining, Stephen King

"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton." The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien

"He was tall, about fifty, with darkly handsome, almost sinister features:" Midnight in the Garden of good and Evil, John Berendt

"if you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, cone sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!" Where the Sidewalk Ends Shel Silverstein

"True!-nervous-very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will you say that I am mad?" The Tell-Tale Heart, Poe

From Matt Fifer:

It was a dark, and stormy night... :D

From Katherine Dempster:

I am Sam.

From Kevin Speare:

The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed. - The Gunslinger

My Suggestions:

From Nabokov: Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
- Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
- Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains will be in want of more brains.” - Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

"Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much." - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling

"Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice." -One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Little Golden Nuggets

2009-09-11T13:55:00.001-07:00

I love the golden rule. It’s so simple and elegant, despite the fact that many people have no clue what the hell it is (hint: it starts with ‘do unto others…’). Applied correctly, this little rule could provide for harmony around the world. If everyone fully abided by the golden rule, hands would go up around the globe and we would grasp them together and we would all sing in unity. I don’t know what we’d sing, but it would probably be from a Coke commercial.

Unfortunately, these days, more people know what a golden shower is than what the golden rule is. (As it turns out, unless you want to be peed upon, that particular shower doesn’t fall into the golden rule spectrum.) In any case, I believe many people would follow the golden rule if they simply knew how to apply it in modern situations. In many cases, I believe our common rudeness is simply a matter of ignorance in how to do unto others. The world has gotten smaller, and we keep getting bigger, stretching our arms out and taking up all the space. I think many around would like to make the world a better place, but one simple rule to apply to many of life’s situations is too confusing. There are too many nuances to account for which the golden rule does not cover. Emerging technologies have added to the confusion (do you answer your cell phone while rolling in the sheets? If so, you’re not the only one.)

To help, I’ve created (read: pulled out of my ass) this list of guidelines which, if followed, will shortly having us all singing “I’d like to buy the world a Coke…”

1 -Be mindful of others around you.

2 -Respect others’ personal bubbles. Give people a wide berth when walking (at least a 3’ radius!)

3 -Don’t use (too much) more than you need. Most of us eat to excess, and have homes and cars that exceed our personal needs. A little bit is okay, but don’t try to take more of the pie than the next guy. Why drive a 12 mile/gallon guzzler when a Yaris or a Minivan works just as well? Despite what you think, you don’t deserve that Hummer, the 30,000 square foot mansion, or that 50 oz. steak. A little dab’ll do ya.

4 -In England, India, Australia or any one of the 76 countries that drive on the left, then drive on the left, walk on the left, go through the left-hand door. In the remaining countries, drive on the right, walk on the right, and go through the frick’n right-hand door (where possible).

5 -(For the gents) The laws of urinal dynamics state that if there is an option to put a spacer or buffer urinal between you and the adjacent urinator, do so! (See rule 1). If there is a row of 8 vacant urinals, opt for the extremities, and not the inline units. If you have taken a urinal on the far right or left, and someone picks the urinal immediately beside you when there are five other good options, you have permission to turn and piss on that man’s shoes. Also, don’t talk to anyone (anyone) while at the urinal. Stare straight ahead like you can bore through that cheap ceramic tile with your eyes.

6 -Be punctual. This applies especially for formal events like weddings, funerals and job interviews, but also for informal ones. You don’t want to be the movie theatre jackass who shows up after the previews and asks someone to scoot over. You knew that movie started at 7:30, and you deserved to have that popcorn butter poured into your shoes (that was me, by the way).

7 -In the company of others, the cell phone is to be shunned unless you are expecting an important phone call. (Note—important phone call is defined as the following: prospective job offer, medical test results coming in, your Grandmother in Poland is dying and this is the last opportunity to speak with her, the President would like to thank you for saving his life, or the FBI will apprehend you in 30 seconds and you must escape… and not as “OMG, did you hear that Spencer likes Heidi!”)

8 -If you are named Spencer or Heidi for any reason, you should take your life now. The same goes for the following names: Brody, Brodin, Lance, Trent, Dayton, Walker, Aiden, Connor, Scout, London, Tallulah, or any one of dozens of douchey hipster names. Take your life. Try the BMW in the garage. That one always works well.

9 -Respect the queue. If you are in a line-up that doesn’t involve a two-way mirror, remember rule #1. There are several different types of queues, and you may not know which one you’re. Some places have multiple queues for multiple kiosks, while others may have one feeder queue into several smaller queues. You may inadvertently initiate your own death if you step in front of someone else who has been waiting longer than you and is dying to get his hands on the very last boston cream.

10 -For the multi-lingual among you: Speak the lingua franca. As beautiful and elegant as your Faeroese may sound to the people of Scandinavia, to us, it’s just gibberish. We Westerners are a paranoid type. If you say something we don’t understand, then clearly you’re speaking about us. It’s rude. That isn’t to say you shouldn’t preserve and use your (second, third…) language, just remember Rule #1 and don’t make someone else feel like they are being left out of a great Faeroese joke!

11 -If the daggers come out with the politics, put it away. We all love to debate (unless your name is Bill O’Reilly, in which case you don’t like to debate as much as you like to TALK VERY LOUD OVER PEOPLE.) If you can learn something and grow through political discussion, great. But you’re not going to convince the anti-semitic homophobe snake charmers league to vote for Ralph Nader in the next election, so instead switch to a topic you can mutually enjoy, like how much you both loved the latest Transformers Movie.

12 -DON’T USE ALL CAPS WHEN WRITING SOMETHING ONLINE, AS IT IS VERY ANNOYING. WE ALL UNDERSTAND YOU HAVE SOMETHING YOU WANT TO SAY, AND YOU WANT TO BE BOLD ABOUT IT, BUT PUT THE CAPS AWAY AND GET YOUR POINT ACROSS WITH A WELL-REASONED ARGUMENT INSTEAD OF ALL THE YELLING.

13 -On the road: use your turn signal/indicator light, whatever you want to call it. It may seem like you’re giving away your next move, but on the roads, that’s actually a good thing. As always, remember Rule 1.-Is your car stereo worth more than your car? Is it loud? Does it have a nice sub-woofer in it? While driving on the strip, do you like to crank the dance music so that is shakes the cheap plastic pieces of the shitty Civic you’re driving? Yeah? Don’t do that! Keep it in the clubs, folks. Barring that, go park with Brody and company up there.

14 -Hold the door open for people. It doesn’t take much time and it is a very polite thing to do. Consequently if you walk into a public shoot-out, you’ll have a little warning first.

15 -The only acceptable time and place to scream “whoo-hoo!” is at a rock concert (between songs, mind) and at a David Blaine show. Why? Because magic is awesome. You gotta respect that shit!

16 -Recycle. If you live in an area that does not recycle (say, most southern states), take your life. Kidding.

The Businessman

2009-08-24T06:57:00.001-07:00

Every morning, I pass a life-size sculpture of a businessman. I see him daily as the escalator takes me from the subterranean bowels of the subway onto the main floor of the office building where I work. As I slowly ascend into world of the Eloi, the picture of this businessman loads like a webpage from 1995. First, I see his feet. Then his pants, neatly creased. He is holding a fedora out in his chubby right hand, and slowly his long coat and scarf emerge into view. Then a necktie, then a large, round face that reflects the lights of the Wellington-Street office. He is a bronze, fat, docile man standing on a pedestal, taking in the view and the bustle of the office building. He is The Businessman and I hate him.

He is one of several in a series of sculptures made by William McElchern in the 1980s. When he is not surveying the scene on Wellington, he can be found walking briskly (probably to an important meeting) along King Street, and again walking briskly along St. Claire Avenue (perhaps the first meeting didn’t go so well). He is also standing solitary and weatherworn in Yorkville, where I envision him waiting to meet a friend or a mistress for drinks. I’ve seen him passing another rotund businessman in a sculpture called “The Encounter,” also on King Street, though the two fat men look almost ready to collide. Sometimes I hear the shadow of energetic dance music pumping and I fancy the two men are about to start grinding one another.

The businessman does not have a good-natured face that we would normally call jolly in one so fat. He is not angry, or driven or ambitious. He is aimless and stares up at the lobby; a blank slate upon which we assign our feelings about being here. Some people probably see him and think, ‘what the hell am I doing here?’ thinking about the useless mounds of paper that will be pushed around that day, and which will accomplish nothing. Some people will look at this man and see a domineering boss, yelling and shaking his sweaty jowls, extremely unhappy with the quarterly report he just read, while others will see cattle, waiting to be herded into his pen and forced to do menial work. I see him going home at night to a good-natured, buxom German woman who has a glazed ham waiting for him and his two fat kids, Hanzel and Gretel. Sometimes he pines for the receptionist, Mary; sometimes he pines for the other businessman he runs into on King.

I hate him because he is the venerated one who has been cast in bronze and placed on a pedestal, just slightly above the rest of us. This is the idol we are to worship? the golden calf we should all aspire to be? He is not a captain of industry, but represents the average worker, the eponymous businessman, upon whose back the global economy rests. By why is he so fat? Why can’t he look more like Don Draper, or Michael Douglas in Wall Street? Instead, we get a cow staring blankly at the lobby, longingly thinking of Mary, not a thought about little Hanzel and Gretel, or the useless mounds of paper he will push around today.

Transformers: Revenge of the Falling Asleep

2009-06-28T08:51:00.000-07:00

Well here's another victim of the writers' strike, and another arrogant director who thinks he can make up for poor writing with bombast and eye candy. This was a rambling mess of a movie that droned on for what seemed like forever. The characters were less than sympathetic. In fact, through most of the movie, I was hoping Megatron would simply step on the main characters and put them (and me) out of misery.

Director Michael Bay shows his low opinion of women by his casting choices and the way they are portrayed in his films, and this one is no exception. Megan Fox is a total mindless bimbo, who Bay admits he cast for her body and not for her acting. Wow.

My family thinks I'm too elitist in my taste in movies. I respond, is it too much to ask to be entertained by a movie? It doesn't even have to be smart or original. Just keep me interested for two hours. This movie couldn't even do that. Lousy, lousy, lousy.

A tale of two apologies

2009-06-16T19:56:00.000-07:00

I'm a Canadian. That makes me somewhat of a connoisseur of that timeless art form known as the apology. As the title of this blog makes clear, I'm all about apologies. And I want to take a minute to look at two recent apologies that made it into the news.

First up, the Letterman/Palin feud. Letterman tells a joke about Palin's daughter getting knocked up by A-rod and all hell breaks loose. This joke (like most jokes of the post-modern era) draws on and assumes a certain pop-culture knowledge in its audience. In this case, that Sarah Palin's 18-year-old daughter Bristol got pregnant and that Sarah is now a grand-mum (You betcha!) The joke went off track when it was revealed that it was Palin's 14-year-old daughter, Willow, and not the of-legal-age Bristol who was at the Yankee game, and thus by extension, the joke must be about Willow.

It is up to you whether you feel that Dave made a tasteless joke about Palin's 18-year-old, or a crass and unforgivable comment about her 14-year-old. Knowing Letterman's track record, I'd believe the former, because that's exactly where my mind went when he joked about A-rod. There was certainly precedent for Bristol getting knocked up, so I gave a slight chuckle and we move on. But let's consult the apology. Or should I say apologies.

Dave spent a total on-screen time of 10 minutes (non-consecutive) apologizing about this flap. This is a show where commercials can cost $1 million a minute, and in show business, 10 minutes is an eternity. I won't hype up the value of the show too much- this is the home of stupid pet tricks, after all. Nevertheless, for anyone offended by the joke, Dave spent a considerable amount of time apologizing. He said, "I had, honestly, no idea that the 14-year-old girl, I had no idea that anybody was at the ball game except the governor, and I was told at the time she was there with Rudy Giuliani," Letterman said "It’s not your fault that it was misunderstood, it’s my fault. ... So I would like to apologize, especially to the two daughters involved, Bristol and Willow, and also to the governor and her family and everybody else who was outraged by the joke" (Emphasis mine).

He also spent considerable time admitting that his jokes are tasteless. Does he have to do this? No. He's Dave freaking Letterman. His biggest competition just bowed out and threats of boycott actually earn him more ratings than anything else. He doesn't really have to apologize. He certainly doesn't need to spend 10 minutes on it. But he does, and in doing so, I feel he demonstrated his integrity.

When Letterman delivered his joke, the sirens went off. The Palin camp went crazy. The local pitch fork and burning torches rental agency ran all out of stock, such was the ire of the crowd. Imagine, then, the stirring of the crowd for the comments that demanded an apology from prominent South Carolina Republican Rusty DePass. Commenting on a report of an escaped gorilla from the zoo, DePass declared on his facebook page, "I'm sure it's just one of Michelle [Obama]'s ancestors- probably harmless."

Like the Letterman comment, where you didn't know if he was talking about Willow or Bristol, some people will read that statement and find therein a sarcastic commentary on the theory of evolution, while others will find this to be nakedly racist. I don't know DePass's track record, so I can only go on his response to the flap (no pitch forks here) that arose when he dropped this little nugget. His apology is as follows:

"I'm sorry as I can be if I offended anyone. The comment was clearly in jest." Somewhere Don Imus is smiling.

So we have two insensitive remarks, followed up by two apologies (three if you count both of Dave's). Both of them rely on one's interpretation of the comment to determine if it was it a misstep or the verbal equivalent of driving full speed into an iceberg. To me, an apology aficionado, I look at the sorries and I see straight through to the intent. Are we seeing someone crying, throwing himself at the mercy of the court, or do we see OJ's smug smile as he tries the black glove on?

Judge's verdict: In the case of Letterman, I see someone who doesn't take his job too seriously. He's a clown, he knows he's a clown, and when he sprays the wrong person with water from a seltzer bottle, he knows he's stepped over the line. I felt it was pretty obvious that he was alluding to Bristol's pregnancy when he made his joke, but when he realized the damage it caused, his apology was sincere.

In the case of DePass, we must recognize that he is no Letterman. He doesn't have millions of viewers tuning in to hear his thoughts every night. But he is a mover and shaker in the GOP and is just as responsible for what he says as everyone else. His verdict: the apology he gave had all the enthusiasm of a Jon and Kate date night (more post-modern humour). I am sick to death of the bullshit "I'm sorry if I offended anyone" lines. If you offended anyone? You clearly offended someone, or else you wouldn't be apologizing. So why not dust off the kneepads you use for the rest of your GOP buddies and give a heartfelt apology buddy? To me, this unenthusiastic, 18-word apology isn't worth the paper it's written on (and it's cyber space!) I just see another racist comment from another sad, blue-haired southerner, who incidentally looks like Bill O'Reilly's uncle.

Maybe you see it another way. If so, I'm sorry.

You're the birthday, you're the birthday, you're the birthday boy/or girl!

2009-06-10T18:34:00.001-07:00

It's Dara's birthday today! She's 28, now solidly in a race towards her 30s (no worries, kiddo. I'm warming it up for you).

Unfortunately, her day has not been as perfect for her as I would have liked, but we're stretching out the festivities over four days, and I know she's aware of just how loved she is! Life has been providing Dara with some challenges lately (not the least of which is her difficult husband). These are never fun to overcome, but if anyone can do it, I know Dara can. She's strong and smart, not to mention dedicated and very talented! My wish for her birthday is that she sees these qualities in herself.

Love you babe! I hope you have a great day, and an even better year.

Generation Why?

2009-05-03T18:52:00.000-07:00

It's been interesting for me, indeed for the rest of the world, to watch as the so-called "Millennial" Generation (aka Generation Y, aka the kid who's sending you a text right now) grows up and fills the boundaries that will define itself. Every generation has its own set of defining characteristics: the Boomers were the hippy-cum-yuppy generation, selling out the ideals of the 60s to build the corporations of the 80s, the X-ers were the lost generation, a minimalist generation that venerated TV shows, songs and movies about nothing, and the millennials are proudly crafting their image as the entitled generation.

There are of course some famous examples, including the recent Miley Cyrus tantrum, when the members of Radiohead refused to be paraded around in front of her just because she wanted it, and every single episode of the almost-physically-painful-to-watch "My Super Sweet 16" is filled to the brim with entitled little brats complaining that their gigantic party wasn't gigantic enough, or their brand new BMW wasn't BMW-ish enough. And I can almost hear all the mothers click their teeth with disapproval at this sort of thing, as they finish the pedicure on mother-daughter day, gulp down their chai lattes, hop in the Jag and head on over for a mother-daughter tan (that skin won't turn to leather on its own, you know).

But these are the idiots you see on TV; exaggerated versions of the home-grown me-me-me kids you're lucky enough to encounter every day. These are the kids for whom the rules do not apply; kids who see every challenge not as a challenge but as an opportunity for Mom or Dad to do it for them; kids who have never heard the word no; whose primary form of communication involves single letters that replace entire words ('c u l8r'); and kids who would rather be somewhere else, no matter where they are. Always.

And it's obviously not only the millenials who are the problem; it's their parents. Like the parents who follow up with hiring managers about the status of their son's resume, or the parents who approach their daughter's office manager, inquiring why she recently got passed over for a promotion. And while the kids complain about the gigantic party and the BMW, someone has to be paying for all these things. Parents: j'accuse!

Of course, not everyone fits the profile of their generation, and so not every millennial is a selfish brat. There are all kinds of helpful, selfless millenials. And even the millennials are known as being more world concious and committed to things like charity and the environment. But despite the good, I think we have to prepare ourselves for a long period of annoying, self-entitled little shits ruling the planet. At least until they grow up and start saying no to kids of their own.

Life and Death in Canada

2009-03-07T06:23:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've blogged, owing to some recent major life changes. Now I'm sitting at the Ministry of health (these titles always sound so Orwellian to me), and that gives me time to catch up a bit.

And that's really what I've been doing this past month: catching up. First, I had to get caught up on school work. I got behind by three weeks, just waiting for my bags to arrive, and my schedule to slow down. But after weeks of burning at 100%, I'm glad to say that things are starting to slow down a bit. I finally caught up on school work, and now I'm staring down the barrel of a big project and an exam. And then, rest!

I've also been catching up with friends and family. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to get to everyone yet. Conflicting schedules and long drives have kept me from seeing some loved ones, but I'm getting there.

On the home front, Dara and I decided to move into an apartment, in the very building we once lived less than four years ago (we got a two-bedroom this time, though). We agonized over this decision for many reasons, but in the end, we were compelled to move back to our old place, right on the subway line!

On paper, it may seem like we're moving backwards. We're living in our old place, and I'm working at the BCE place building (now Brookfield Place), just like I was years ago. But while the details may seem similar, we've made some changes and things are different. I went away a single customer service agent, and came back a married appraiser. In any case, we were quite content with our old neighbourhood, and are quite content to be back there again. Two drawbacks: common laundry facilities and no central air. We deal.

And finally, I cannot comment on the events of the past weeks without mentioning the passing of our dear Papa John, Dara's maternal (and my adoptive) Grandpa. Papa John left us last month after a long struggle in the wake of a series of debilitating strokes. True to his fighting RAF roots, Papa fought for a long time before passing on a cold February day.

He was one of the kindest people I have ever met. I have always said that, though I am different from Dara and her family, clinging to my dubious claims of Jewish heritage (hey, my Grandma's maiden name is Hirschfield, and my Dad is Jewish... that's gotta count for something, right?), Dara's family has always made me feel welcome. Non-blood relatives always remark at how close this family is. I say "non-blood relatives," instead of outsiders because, people who know this family are always invited into it; there are no outsiders.

I mention this because, as Patriarch of this great body of loving people, Papa John had more than a little to do with how the family conducted themselves. He raised a great family, and he will be remembered by them always.

I look to him as a model because, like me, Papa was raised without his Dad. Despite this fact, as his kids attest, he was a great father and a great Papa. He always greeted me warmly, with a kindly "hello Dear," and as was attested during the funeral, he had no shortage of good investment advice.

For all these reasons and more, I will miss Papa John. But I'm very glad to have met him and to have been, however small, a part of his life.

The job so far

2009-02-11T19:27:00.000-08:00

A few people have been asking me about my first week at my new job, so I thought I'd be lazy and direct them here, where I can reach a wider audience. I'll still keep it brief, and may repeat some parts, but here's how it's going so far:

My week started inauspiciously, when I missed my connecting flight. This put me on the landing strip about three hours before my orientation began. So that first day, I went sans sleep. Incidentally, this way probably better than the alternative, which would have had me landing on Sunday night, sleeping, and then trying to acclimatize to the new time zone.

So the first day of new-hire orientation was pretty straightforward. Probably the strangest thing about this day was that Dara--the girl who's as afraid of driving as I am of flying--drove me to training. Twice! The second day of orientation went until 1:30, then I hopped on the subway to go down to the new office.

I got down to Deloitte (11th floor on the Brookfield Place), and met a bunch of people. This early into the job process, there's not much to say other than:

1) the office is a labyrinth. At this point, I can find the kitchen, the IT department, my desk, and the bathroom (which I can call a washroom again!) The office is very pro-environment (recycling bins is a no-brainer, but also biodegradable cutlery, and reports printed on both sides of the paper... weird).

2) I probably can't talk too much about the report I'm working on, but let's just say the scope is quite a bit larger than what I worked on at my last company.

3) I've had every lunch this week provided for me, which I'm not used to, but was convenient.

4) The simplest things, like setting up voicemail, faxing, setting up signatures, are more complex in big companies (at least this one). But, there are also many efficiencies that are very interesting to note.

This is my first time working at a big company. For many out there, it's old hat, but I've found it interesting. By my nature, I'm not comfortable in new situations, meeting new people. But I've also pushed beyond my roots, and I constantly shake things up, so that I haven't been 'comfortable' in a while. But I think it's good. It can take you to new places.

So this is my new place now.

Sorry if this seems scattered. I'm watching SVU while typing. Sam Waterston is better as the ADA; he's just not political.

Financial Crisis: a flow chart

2009-01-22T19:52:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine recently turned me on to this flow chart, which clearly and candidly describes the processes that occured to get us in our current economic mess. It's a quick, sobering read.

Changing of the Guard

2009-01-20T23:39:00.000-08:00

Well my friends, it's all over. The peaceful transition of power has occurred. The sycophantic masses over at MSNBC are skipping and clucking at Bush's departure, the melody on the tips of their tongues, "Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead." The two million people lining the Mall reflect the historic importance of the occasion. I speak, of course, of the fact that newly-minted President Obama is a south-paw. In fact, he is the fifth in the last 7 Presidents to be left-handed.

But seriously, this is a time for hope, and also a time for us to reflect on the last eight years that have comprised Bush's time in office. Opponents will no doubt have already posted their scathing online indictments; apologists will be spinning the faux-pas and turning our attention to the positive achievements; and fewer still will be praising Bush as a hero and father to the nation (Stephen Colbert characteristically asks his guests, "Bush: great President, or the greatest President?") But unless you play a character on TV, you most likely fall into the two former categories: scathing criticisms, or optimistic spinning.

For the spinners out there, there's not much for me to say. You probably feel he spent money like a drunken sailor, but are otherwise happy that he 'kept you safe.'

For the critics out there, whose numbers grow larger the further outside the US borders one goes, I have only this to say: beware the knee-jerk. A while ago, Vanity Fair contributor Christopher Hitchens, rebuked the audience of Bill Maher's talk show for their idiosyncratic calls of "Bush is an idiot." And while I disagree with the thrust of what Hitchens was saying (more on that later*), I applaud him for taking an unpopular position, namely, defending the intellectual integrity of George W. Bush.

I am an avowed Bush critic. I could talk at length about the man's failings as a President which, in my opinion, are legion. Despite branding himself as a compassionate conservative and trying to model himself as a Reaganite, many of his policies are anathema to the standards of the GOP. And plunging the country into war (at least with Iraq), then stripping back civil rights under the pretext of 'protecting us,' did not make him any friends in the left either.

But let me use this opportunity of the transition of power to ask us to be rigorous and not lazy in our criticisms of our public leaders. Let our criticisms be solid and well-founded; etched in the acid of research and known fact. It is but a lazy man who pokes fun at the icon of the Texan cowboy clearing brush and squinting into the cameras. Casual readers of this blog will note that I have, on more than one occasion, been lazy. It's a product of late-night blogs written in the heat of anger, without the insight of editorial reflection.

There is no shortage of legitimate criticisms for Bush. I'm sure there will be no shortage of criticisms for Obama. But let them be legitimate. Let us not descend into cartoonish depictions of these leaders. Such renderings take the focus away from the valid criticisms of these leaders, and will not likely evolve into a thoughtful debate.

*The Bush-as-idiot argument is frequent, and is frequently discounted by many who throw out counter-arguments like, "how many ivy-league degrees do YOU have?" Such questions are valid, but I think we should remember that Bush is being measured against other presidents in history and not the average Joe-the-Plumber. And while he may not fall in with the bottom of the pack (Buchana, Johnson), his frequent malaproprisms do cast him in a dim light compared to the glare of the magnificent brilliance of some presidents.

Doesn't Anybody Stay in One Place Anymore?

2008-12-21T10:57:00.000-08:00

I have been living in California for almost as long as I've been updating this blog, which dates back to late 2005. Three years ago I embarked on a years-long dream to live in the Golden State, and I took along with me my then-fiancee, a suitecase full of clothes, and some books. Our trials and our good times have been well documented on our blogs or in other arenas.

The toughest obstacle was obtaining my greencard. But we also went through periods of unemployment, lonliness, and homesickness. We have also had fun getting to know our friends here, and sharing good times. We've enjoyed the new restaurants (Melting Pot, foremost among them), Disney, San Diego, San Francisco, Central Coast, Napa, Santa Monica, and our peaceful, if infrequent, walks on the beach. Of course, we can't forget our little rag, Schmaty, who was abandoned, and subsequently rescued and smothered with attention. I have especially enjoyed my lunchtime visits with my sister, which we have finally managed to attend to with regularity.

But it has been apparant to us for some time that, despite the mixture of good and bad, the beautiful weather, and the proximity to family, California has never been a perfect fit for us. Perhaps it was a scapegoat for our suffering during the harder times. Perhaps it's true that we never really gave the place a fair shake; never truly gave ourselves over to the southland. But somewhere between my first magical visit here and the actual move, my tastes changed. At some point during our stay here, we realized that California isn't our home. So we've decided to move home.

This makes it difficult, as the relationships we have cultivated here over the years will now be put to the test of distance (the same way our Canadian relationships have been tested and, for the most part, have endured). Nevertheless, it is difficult telling the people you love that you're moving away. When I moved here, one of Carol King's immortal songs kept playing in my head, "So far away. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?" Here, again, the words come back to me.

To answer her question, no, people don't stay in one place. For some reason or another, we are compelled to try on new locations, like a new set of clothes, to see what fits. My sister moved here over 15 years ago, and found that this place, over time, has come to fit her. A fitting analogy, perhaps, because she's always been so stylish and fashionable. So now to carry this analogy to its clumsy ending, I realize this place just doesn't quite fit us.

But in the sadness of parting, when goodbyes are difficult, I invoke more words from Carol King: "Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall, all you have to do is call, and I'll be there. You've got a friend."

A Canadian Coalition Government: My 1.5 Cents' Worth (Written in Exile)

2008-12-03T22:30:00.001-08:00

Big things are astir in the normally sleepy arena of Canadian politics. As some Americans and nearly all Canadians are aware, the Liberal Party--the opposition party in Parliament--along with the NDP and the Bloc party, have decided to form a coalition government which would in effect overturn Stephen Harper's minority Conservative government and install a new Prime Minister. I won't get into the gritty details here (that's what Wikipedia is for), but I do note the polarizing effect this is having on the Canadian electorate. Or at least my facebook friends. So I would like to use this platform, as I so often do, to come out on one side of this debate.

I didn't want to react in knee-jerk fashion and so I've waited, consulted the interweb, and followed some online debates. At least anecdotally, it appears that most people I've run across, regardless of political persuasion, are against the coalition, or the idea of it. So naturally, I'm coming out in favour of the coalition.

Besides my distaste with Stephen Harper and his do-nothing government, what is prompting me to support (at least from afar) a group of three losers (in the political sense of the word) in their attempt to overthrow a legitimately-elected government? Is it not a betrayal of democracy to have the opposition usurp the proverbial throne? In a word, no. At least not democracy the way Canada practices it.

In Canada, we elect local candidates to be our members of parliament and to represent our interests and the interests of the common good, in Ottawa. Contrary to how many people vote, or how the current system is perceived (no doubt as a result of our proximity to American voter ethos) we do not vote for a party; we vote for an individual. This individual may form and reform parties or cross party lines however s/he sees fit. As an example, the parties, and never the Canadian electorate, choose party leaders and, as a result, the Prime Minister.

So temporarily gerrymandering the party lines in order to obtain the effective government that Canadians deserve as the world hovers on the edge of a catastrophe is, in my view, perfectly acceptable. And it is perfectly legal. Consider these points:

-There is a legal precedent for coalition governments in Canada, including Prime Minister Robert Borden who formed a coalition in 1911. Of course, those weren't dramatic times. He only oversaw the government during a little skirmish known as the First World War. Maybe that's why he was elected in 1917?

-The combined opposition parties, with 62% of the seats, more than represent the interests of the electorate.

-The Bloc separatists will hardly pursue a separatist agenda while brokering a power-sharing deal. Sometimes you have to deal with the devil. It's pragmatic.

-The Conservatives (nee the Canadian Alliance), who have not played nice with the other kiddies in the sandbox these past few years, had talks with the Bloc in 2000 about forming a coalition government. My how times have changed.

-Stephen Harper seems more interested in retaining power and surviving his Prime Ministerial post, than acting in the best interest of the country. (That's not really a fact, it's more of an opinion, but I thought I'd throw it out there).

-Finally, calling another election because of (ANOTHER) no-confidence vote is a waste of taxpayer money, and a waste of precious time, when Canada needs a strong government.

It's a shame that Canada has to call on three parties and three separate leaders in order to make one strong leader, but maybe that's what makes our country strong. We are not governed from the top down as a one-man operation; we are governed by many, elected to represent our interests, in an atmosphere of rigorous debate. So debate.

A difference between these two tribes?

2008-11-10T18:32:00.000-08:00

I keep hearing about the beating drum of the left. But then I see pictures like the one shown here, I hear the fire-breathing rants of sore-loser clowns like Rush Limbaugh, I notice the boos during McCain's gracious concession speech (and the conspicuous absence of boos during Kerry's 2004 concession speech), and I absorb the rhetoric about a permanent conservative majority, or the "real" America vs... well, whatever the alternative to the real America is. And I wonder to myself, who's really beating the drum here?

Why I think an Obama Presidency is good for America and the World.

2008-11-05T06:11:00.001-08:00

In my 29 years, I have been witness to several where-were-you-when moments in history. I sat in a school assembly on a cold January morning when an O-ring failed on the Challenger shuttle, creating the indelible forked, now iconic, vapor trails that haunted so many school children that day. In 1997, late night reports of a fateful car crash in France told me that Princess Diana was dead. In 2001, looking out from the skyscraper in which I worked, I contemplated the horror and spectacle of planes flying directly towards me; of a leap from terror into terror at an altitude more than twice that of my dizzying 45th-floor view. In all of these cases, I can tell you where I was, what I was doing, how I felt, and often who I was speaking to. How sad that all these events etched deep in my memory involve pain and death; evoke fear and sadness. This Tuesday, my newest where-were-you-when moment, like so many millions of people across America and around the globe, involved looking at the television screen and hearing the words, "we can now project that Barack Obama, 47 years old, will become the President-elect of the United States."

How glad I am that I will be able to share at least one happy, historic moment with my unborn children. They can ask me where I was, and I can tell them exactly. I can tell them what I was watching, and can describe the people around me, but I won't be able to describe that tingle, that thrill of hope and imagination, that comes from standing at the edge of a new moment in history.

This is an historic moment for everyone, and while many political and ideological opponents to the President-elect are not as elated as I am, many have been gracious about his win. My instinct is to condemn the sore-loser attitudes of the cat calling crowd in McCain's gracious and eloquent concession speech and the like, but I cannot say I would feel or react differently. So I won't gloat, but I will appreciate the comments of people around me who, though disappointed, prayed for Obama's blessing and throw their support behind their newest president. No doubt these people will offer rigorous debate in the coming years, but this kind of gracious attitude is most welcome as we enter a new political climate.

And now to the future. While the inevitable negative buzz of the campaign lingers in the air, it is natural that all this bad air will take some time to work its way out. We've focused so much on the negative attention, it's natural to hear the echoes of old arguments in our heads. He's inexperienced. He's a radical, he won't govern from the middle. He pals around with terrorists. These kinds of arguments, a cornerstone in any US campaign, are likely to hang around for a while. But like day-old doughnuts, these will get stale and it will be time to move on. I understand the apprehension about this iconic, yet unknown man from Chicago. Or is it Hawaii? Or is it Indonesia?

Although this is a steep uphill climb, and Obama has already begun managing expectations (perhaps the only page he'll take from the GWB playbook), there are three reasons why I think Obama will be good for America and, by extension, the world:

For starters, Obama will restore dignity to the office of the President. That dignity that has been lost through sexual cigar antics, and the ineptitude of one squinty-eyed Texan. Obama has a charisma. He has grace. What was pejoratively called his 'professorial manor,' we will realize is intelligence, thoughtfulness, restrained action, and a cool, level head.

In addition, Obama will restore (or at least increase) the good will towards the American people throughout the world. His election brings him more in line with the global political climate, and although America has always been its own man, so to speak, we are now in a global community. The world is smaller and America is a large part of it. I think Obama's very presence in the office can further this goal, and I think his commitment to diplomacy will command the respect and admiration of those around the world. His promise to pull America out of Iraq, if properly and carefully handled, will go a long way towards putting America on the right side of history.

And it will be an important step to solving the economic woes facing the country and the world right now. Pulling out of Iraq will plug the drain and provide some financial cushion as we figure out what to do. The economy will be Obama's chief worry and occupation, and as much as full blame cannot be sidled on George W. Bush, nor can full credit be given the Obama Administration if and when we pull out of this tailspin. My left-of-center instincts (not to mention a host of economists) tell me that supply-side economics do not work. At least not as a sustained economic model. One can only stimulate the economy so much, but at the end of the day, things must be paid for. I can only imagine Barack's calculated, basketball-playing hands will deftly work that scalpel on the things which need cutting. I don't think people have much to fear, unless they fear a repeat of the economic prosperity of the 90s. Obama is a student of history. He has shown a commanding grasp of many issues, and will approach things carefully. I think it is telling that he is looking to the Reagan and Clinton models- both leaders who began their administrations in difficult times and helped propel the country through those difficult times.

I don't think he will be assassinated, as a few macabre, and melodramatic people out there think (and sadly, some hope). I don't think he will pull the country into full-bore socialism, either. I think he will, given the opportunity, lead in the best way possible. He will make mistakes. He will make enemies. He will make some proud, and some ashamed. He will make some roll in their graves (Thomas Jefferson comes to mind). But on Tuesday, November 4, 2008, with friends all around, faces lit with the glow of the television, I watched Barack Obama make history. And that's where I was.

My Prediction For the US Election

2008-10-28T09:36:00.001-07:00

Well, here goes. Let's just put it out there. I predict that Barack will get 379 electoral votes, and John McCain will get 156. It's probably more likely that he'll get 364 (I'm being optimistic about his chances in Georgia) to John's 171, but hey, why not? As for the popular vote, my guess is that he'll get 49%. Any takers?

Drudge Report: our One Great Hope?

2008-10-25T09:56:00.000-07:00

Last week, my friend Tom and I engaged in an interesting discussion on the nature and perception of media bias. We both agree that bias is rampant in the media, but our opinions diverged on the degree to which some media outlets show their bias. I, for one, believe that Fox News shows its right-of-center bias to a greater degree than, say, CNN (with its left-of-center leanings). Tom had an interesting point that, because of my very own left-of-center political bent, I am less able to perceive CNN's slant as I am able to perceive Fox News's. I think there may be some truth to that argument, but then again, I am not incapable of perceiving the bias of those news institutions which are more decidedly left-wing, such as MSNBC.

For example, take the three most prominent news aggregators on the web (in order of prominence): The Drudge Report, The Huffington Post, and Hinessight. You, dear reader, are no doubt familiar with Matt Drudge's news aggregation website. Made famous by scooping the biggest story of its day (the Clinton/Lewinski sex scandal), The Drudge Report has an uncanny ability to scoop even the biggest news institutions. For this reason, this is my number one web-based news source. However, Drudge's leanings are decidedly right-of-center, which is manifested in the articles he headlines and gives the most attention to. It is easy to see, for example, that he is not a supporter of the global warming movement, based on the scope of articles he features, and the headlines he gives such articles.

The Huffington Post is another well-known establishment, but given its ties to Hollywood, and the sheer breadth of left-wing contributors, there is (or should be) no claim of objectivity here. Everyone knows what the HuffPo stands for.

But Hinessight is a different model. Labeling itself the Anti-Drudge Report, this website presents mainly news articles in a similar format to Matt Drudge's website. And instead of doing a more professional Drudge Report, this website wears its colours (royal blue) on its sleeve. For instance, it was very easy for even the casual reader to discern this website's support for Hillary Clinton over Barack Obama in the primaries. Once Obama got the nom, the aggregator was in the tank for Obama, with articles highlighting the Chicago Senator's brave political battle, while fending off attacks from an angry McCain, or the Christian Right... that sort of thing.

So my first question to Tom is, if I'm able to perceive the left-wing bias of institutions like MSNBC and Hinessight.com, would I not be qualified to expound on the relative degree to which these institutions show their bias?

I certainly don't think that the level of bias in each organization is the same. The degree of objectivity is only as high as the organization's commitment to professionalism. And news organizations will only strive for professionalism if we demand it of them. I think CNN and Drudge Report, while coming from opposite places politically, are the the news sources with the most amount of promise. It would only take a little bit of tweaking to render these outlets bias-free (well, as bias-free as possible). Neither have attained that level of respectability, but they could. I don't mean by throwing in a Republican pundit to balance your views (CNN), but to maintain high standards in reporting which news enthusiasts like me demand. Unfortunately, drama begets ratings, and so the clowns at MSNBC and FOX will continue to dominate the airwaves (not to mention other clowns like CNN's Lou Dobbs et al).

Perhaps we will one day receive our news from robots who are truly objective. Until then, can the media closest to the center please get its shit together?

Religulous... religicule?

2008-10-18T18:24:00.000-07:00

I recently took in the new documentary Religulous by comedian/TV host Bill Maher. The film tackles an important subject: the role of religion in society. Let me be more specific. The film is an essay denouncing the role religion has played in society. It doesn't so much pose the question "has religion been a force for good in the world?" as it provides the answer. And that answer is decidedly no. At least according to Bill Maher. While I feel that the question has merit, the discussion is too important to be left in Bill's hands.

In a recent interview with Larry King, Bill said that the issue of religion was his white whale. I confess that I haven't read Melville's magnum opus, but something tells me that Captain Ahab would have given a lot more care to his passion project than Bill Maher has. I confess myself disappointed.

Bill should be praised for tackling a subject that everyone is too afraid to talk about, and considering the fates of Salmon Rushdie and Theo van Gogh, this is not surprising. But if you're going to walk through that sacred threshold, why not do it properly?

Bill approaches interviews with intellectual vigor, dwarfing his subjects with his usual condescending mien. And his interviewees are not exactly the creme of the crop. With the exception of one scientist who represented the Human Genome Project (standing in for the pro-religion side), Mr. Maher's cast includes a host of intellectually bankrupt characters (also standing in for the pro-religion side). We're talking the congregation at a truck stop chapel, the Jesus character at the local religious theme park (one of two we visit), and the hip hop artist Propa Ghandi, to name a few.

Mr. Maher wasted an opportunity to pursue rigorous intellectual debate on the matter, which I would have welcomed. There was not a single interview with a doctor of theology (if we don't count the self-styled 'doctor' preacher, who didn't actually have a degree). The movie isn't really a debate at all. It's a platform for his views. Call it agnosticism, atheism, secular humanism, whatever... the movement has millions of sympathizers all over the world. And this movie is for them. What a wasted opportunity to start a public debate.

The film is not without its merits. Bill Maher has some interesting and (again) important things to say. To bad he's preaching to the converted.

Negative Campaigning

2008-10-07T21:45:00.000-07:00

A lot of people have said they're tired of the rhetoric currently flowing across the airwaves from campaign to campaign, and I agree. I'm tired of it, and I'm disappointed. But never surprised. As much as I sometimes wish the legislators would outlaw the practice, I know this is an impossibility.

The fact of the matter is, negative campaigning works. Why it works--when we all know how often politicians tell the truth, especially during a campaign, and especially about the other guy--is beyond me. No one likes it. For starters, those of us on the opposite side of the ideological divide are further ostracized from the offending opponent (and potential victor). Furthermore, it breeds distrust and bipartisanship. So it's really disappointing to see negative campaigning come out from these two candidates: one who has a history of crossing the aisle, and the other who had run on the idea of bringing people together.

However, it is rather humourous to me when people in one camp rage against the attacks against their candidate, but ignore (and often support) the attacks going towards the other candidate. It is mind-boggling how obtuse this is. If McCain often lies about about his opponent (and he does), is it conceivable, in some crazy plot to stay competitive, the Obama lies about McCain too? (Um, he does).

Again, the shame of the situation is that it has to happen at all. I suppose it's just poor strategy to ignore a well-known and highly-effective tool. Still, it would be nice if someone took the upper hand. Unfortunately, if your opponent (or your opponent's supporters) doesn't take the upper hand, you will have to fight fire with fire, or risk being swift-boated, as John Kerry was in the 2004 election.

The vicious cycle of negative campaigning begins with the candidate who's behind, and I make no secret that I believe John McCain started it this time around. With the Democrats favoured to win from early on, John had to attack Obama's weaknesses, and so he did. And Obama, in order to level the playing field and prevent himself from getting swift-boated, had to fire back. It's a shame, but once the gloves are off, you have to decide if you're going to run, slap, or punch back.

That's not to say that the Democrats don't know how to put out negative ads. Just look at the primaries for the most recent example of Democratic lies.

But if John McCain is going to try to tie Obama to, say, Tony Rezko (an exaggeration, to be kind), then does Obama have any choice but to exaggerate McCain's ties to the Keating 5 Scandal?

One thing seems certain (and I am not above this), if you favour a particular candidate, you will more readily swallow the half-truths and slander about the other candidate, and will (justly, but also reflexively) label the same half-truth about your candidate as a political smear. One thing is for certain, there is plenty of smear to go around.

Life as a Status Update*

2008-09-26T08:47:00.000-07:00

Myke is happy. Myke is horny. Myke eats dogfood. With the rise of the ubiquitous social networking website, Facebook, and the subsequent decline of the originator, MySpace, a new trend has emerged: Life as a status update. From the minute you sign up your Facebook account, you can beguile the world with your compelling personal narrative, your daily drama, and the general minutia of your life. Thus Facebook users were compelled to fill in the blank after “Myke is….” But in late 2007, users were freed from the tyranny of the "is," which has allowed us to expand our vocabulary of personal updates. No more Myke is angry, Myke is the shooter on the grassy knoll. All of a sudden, Myke can drink tea, Myke hates it when you rub his toes, Myke has never been to Burkina Faso. And so the sluice gates were opened.

For the active Facebook user, life has become a series of status updates. You wake up in the morning and immediately start composing your third-person narrative: Myke hates waking up this early. Myke prefers eggos to cereal. Myke should probably get some toilet bowl cleaner. Casual users will blend third- and first-person realities (Myke is losing my mind), which is somewhat confusing and hints at the presence of a third party. Who is this nefarious person who is losing your mind, and why did you lend it to him in the first place?

With the added flexibility of using your phone to access the ever-addictive Facebook, you can update your friends on the all-important activities of your day in real time, from nearly anywhere in the world. Myke is at a Pussycat Dolls show, Myke left his report at the office, and so on.

You can use these updates to facilitate all kinds of different functions. You can lie (Myke loves his job), you can come out of the political closet (Myke dreams of seeing Ralph Nader naked), you can subtly attack another user (Myke hates someone right now. A blonde guy who lives in Long Beach. Whose name rhymes with Donathan,) or you can experience that Albert Camus existential moment of laziness we all have with Myke is. You can write mini essays on the constant, pervasive nature of big brother (Myke was filmed in front of a live TV audience), or use the update as a stage for your innate wit (Myke has carbon footprint envy). You can insert yourself into classic song lyrics (Myke is the Walrus, coo coo kachoo), or you can hijack popular culture to express your feelings upon a subject: Mykie likes it!

Life is carried out online; relationships are formed and ended via the status update. Reactions can span from a quick laugh (lol), a brief comment (OMG! I didn’t know you liked Ralph Nader too!), a harsh response, to outright anger. Sadly, these updates have even aroused murder as in the case of the late Tracey Grinhaff, 42, of Sheffield England, who was murdered by her husband after publicly declaring her pending divorce via her status update.

Everything from the sacred to the profane, from the simplest detail of one’s life, to the profound revelations and attainment of enlightenment can be pared down into one- or two-sentence pronouncements. The bold, imaginative, uncaring, the humdrum—it can all be carried on the back of a well-composed status update. They define the parameters of our observation, and reveal where our interests lie. And judging from the frequency of our status updates (this, coming from a chronic updater,) there can be no doubt about our chief preoccupation: ourselves.

*Note: most status updates used in this post—particularly the one about Ralph Nader—are completely manufactured and are for demonstration purposes only.

Why Experience Doesn't (really) Matter

2008-09-09T22:16:00.000-07:00

Here is a great article I recently stumbled upon which better illustrates a point I have been trying to make to my friend Tom. Namely, when it comes to politics, experience doesn't necessarily make a better president. Read on:

How good are experienced presidents, anyway? Suppose you had to choose between two Presidential candidates, one of whom had spent 20 years in Congress plus had considerable other relevant experience and the other of whom had about half a dozen years in the Illinois state legislature and 2 years in Congress. Which one do you think would make a better President? If you chose #1, congratulations, you picked James Buchanan over Abraham Lincoln. Your pick disagrees with that of most historians, who see Lincoln as the greatest President ever and Buchanan as the second worst ever, better only than Warren "Teapot Dome" Harding. Both served in what was probably the most difficult period in American history, where slavery and secession tore the nation asunder.

Before becoming President, Buchanan had served 6 years in the Pennsylvania state legislature, 10 years in the U.S. House of Representatives, 4 years as ambassador to Russia, 10 years in the Senate, 4 years as Secretary of State, and 4 years as Ambassador to England. Talk about experience, Buchanan did just about everything except serve on the Supreme Court, a job he was offered by President Polk and refused. Yet by any measure, he wasn't up to the job as President. In contrast, Abraham Lincoln served 8 years in the Illinois legislature and one term in the U.S. House (1847-1849), a decade before becoming President. The rest of the time he was a lawyer in private practice, a bit thin one might say.

Another article from the Daily Kos goes on:

There have been 55 presidential elections in US history. 28 times the person with most "experience" wins.
20 of 28 times was a reelection.

There have been 21 elections which resulted in a change of party in power. 14 of those elections were won by the candidate with the least experience.

Since 1900 there have been 10 elections resulting in a change of the party in power. In 9 of those elections the candidate with the least amount of experience won.

Examples:

2000 Bush vs. Gore most experienced lost

1992 Clinton vs. Bush most experienced lost

1980 Reagan vs. Carter most experienced lost

1976 Carter vs. Ford most experienced lost

1968 Nixon vs. Humphrey candidates were equal in experience.

1960 Kennedy vs. Nixon most experienced lost

1952 Eisenhower vs. Stevenson most experienced lost

1322 FDR vs Hoover most experienced lost

1920 Harding vs Cox most experienced lost

1912 Wilson vs Taft and Teddy Roosevelt more
experienced lost

Time Magazine had TWO excellent articles about Presidential experience:

"Does Experience Matter as a President"
http://www.time.com/...

"Experience, in other words, gets its value from the person who has it. In certain lives, a little goes a long way. Some people grow and ripen through years of government service; others spoil on the vine.
[snip]
Baker, a former Secretary of State, still believes that a candidate with credentials should certainly tout them, but in the end, "there's no such thing as presidential experience outside of the office itself." The quality we ought to seek "is leadership."

and a second one:
"The Science of Experience"
http://www.time.com/...

"...three decades of research into expert performance has shown that experience itself — the raw amount of time you spend pursuing any particular activity, from brain surgery to skiing — can actually hinder your ability to deliver reproducibly superior performance. "

"in the end, determining which of the presidential candidates pays more attention to your concerns requires not adding up their years of experience but a far more complex calculation: deciding what their experiences have led them to truly value."

How to properly enjoy music

2008-09-03T12:20:00.000-07:00

I've given some thought to the type of music enthusiast I am, and I've decided there are two ways people enjoy music. There's the wallpaper method of music enjoyment, which consists of constantly keeping music on in the background. This is the music aficionado of the iPod generation, and you know him well. He's the guy in your office who brags about his music collection in terms of gigabytes, rather than number of CDs or, dare I say it, tapes (we'll get to vinyl later). His 80+ gig music "collection" would take months of consecutive listening to complete, and exists to set any mood he wants. This type of enthusiast can rattle off a string of obscure artists, but is unlikely to recognize trivial things like song titles, lyrics, etc....

The other side of the spectrum, in Myke's musical classification system, involves the food analogy. The 'food' user differs from the wallpaper user in terms of scope. While a wallpaper user might have thousands of songs on a computer, the food user may have a more modest collection of albums in the hundreds, or even less. This user usually prefers her musical food in CD or vinyl form, where she will put on an album, close her eyes, and enjoy the music like a meal, picking apart sections, and enjoying each selection, the appetizer, the entree, the dessert... This person usually regards herself as a purist.

So which are you? The above types are the on the extremes of the spectrum. At the extremes, these are music snobs. The former, a mavin of style and blender magazine, snubbing anyone who is not aware of the latest 'it' band from rural Idaho, the latter a purist who cannot see beyond the purity of vinyl, who spurns the idea of portable music.

As for me, I'm a hybrid of the two, as are most people. I love my iPod and the freedom it provides me. I'm also an amateur audiophile, listening for subtle nuances in the music, reveling in the mixes of George Martin, or more contemporary mixers like Rick Rubin. I tend to be slightly xenophobic about music, preferring to discover music on my own, rather than letting others thrust it upon me. Thus I slowly discover new music, collecting songs and artists like shells on the beach, and slowly bringing them into my collection. I don't think this is the 'proper' way to experience music, it's just how I do it.

When it comes to politics, let's try to be honest with ourselves

2008-09-02T13:22:00.000-07:00

So the teams are set. Come Thursday, the GOP will officially pit McCain/Palin against the Obama/Biden ticket. The ugly games favoured by Karl Rove/Lee Atwater from the 70s onward (dumpster diving, mud slinging, etc...) will be in full swing over the next several months. It's not my favourite form of political discourse, but I realize McCain has a strategy to play and, with the Republican brand in the toilet, he's got to play it.

I'm both nervous and excited, but I have one exhortation to both sides of the ideological divide: be honest with one another. As of last week, I have no doubt that the Wikipedia page for Sarah Palin has gotten more hits than it ever has. Some are already pretending that they have known and loved her for years; others have started the dirt-digging, and are claiming they have loathed her for years. I'll be honest: up until last week, the life of an Alaskan Governor was of very little interest to me, though her name was loosely bandied about as the black horse contender for VP (there's always at least one black horse, isn't there?)

Upon discovering that Palin's 17-year-old daughter is pregnant, I think Obama showed the colour of his character when he declared that family was off limits. All but the most cynical Republicans cheered that one. So I say again, give praise when praise is due, and be honest with yourself and with others.

If you don't like Obama's name and you're voting against him because of it, be honest. If you're voting for him because he's black, be honest. While I think your reasoning is wrong, it's valid and it's all yours. Just don't lie to yourself by digging up all kinds of dirt on one candidate or the other, so you can join right in on the mud slinging.

I think the majority of us vote along ideological lines. While I still respect John McCain's character for a number of reasons, I disagree with most of his positions, and that is one reason why I am against his presidential aspirations. Conversely, I agree with many (though not all) of Obama's principles, and that is why I would pull the lever for Barack in November. Theoretically. If I could vote (sigh.)

Here's more honesty. I think the last eight years have been a travesty of leadership. If Bush's weakness was limited to his famous malaproprisms (which, frankly, make Yogi Berra look like Winston Churchill), I would be fine. I'd collect the annual Bush-isms calendar, and laugh along with everyone else. But it doesn't take much digging to show all the failure of the past eight years (I'd be happy to list some things if anyone is interested). Even staunch conservatives at least agree he's spending too much, if nothing else.

Nevertheless, here are some intellectually dishonest positions that I feel that should be avoided:

-Obama is the messiah
-The Bush administration did a great job
-Obama wants to tax the nation to its knees
-McCain will stay in Iraq for 100 years (given the current situation, this is not likely to happen, as much as I feel McCain is a little too trigger-happy for my taste).
-Republicans are the only ones who truly respect and appreciate veterans
-Sarah Palin's youngest child is her grandchild
-McCain is too old to be in office (dude can do more pushups than I can!)
-Obama is an idiot
-McCain is an idiot
-All Democrats don't care about family values (there may be some who don't)
-All Republicans don't care about civil liberties (there may be some who don't)

Here's another one. If you feel the following is true:

-Obama doesn't have enough experience to lead the country...

Then you would be lying to yourself to say this:

-...but Sarah Palin does.

Palin: the good, the bad, the ugly (or should I say pretty?)

2008-08-29T08:14:00.000-07:00

so it appears that McCain will choose Sarah Palin as his VP running mate, and I say the choice is a brilliant one, for three reasons. For starters, it will steal the thunder from the recently-wrapped DNC, specifically as it relates to the historic nature of the event. Although, if chosen, Palin wouldn't be the first female on the ticket of a national party (indeed the dems hit that bar over two decades ago), if McCain wins in November, she would be the first female VP ever. This would add even more cracks in the glass ceiling Hillary Clinton referenced late in the primary campaign. Furthermore, this could scoop up some disenchanted Clinton supporters who were anxious to see a female in the Whitehouse. And though this is morbidly inappropriate, at 72 years old, McCain could inadvertently hand the keys of the White house to its first female president... Posthumously. Finally, this move could increase the excitement factor for a campaign that has largely played second fiddle to media darling, Obama. Perhaps this could finally give McCain some TV time. However, choosing a governor of a tiny state (population-wise) with only two years' experience will effectively nullify his argument that Obama doesn't have the experience to lead the country, which was his most potent argument. While VP picks tend to have very little to do with how people vote, these are different times, and who can say how this pick will affect his campaign. Still, it speaks into what kinds of decisions McCain would make as POTUS. We'll see...

Side note: this is the last time I blog from my phone!

Random Thoughts

2008-08-17T20:57:00.000-07:00

I've been watching the Olympics a little more closely than normal. I think the Phelps phactor is probably a good reason, though I will take any excuse possible to get away from the terrible television that Dara has been watching. Try hundreds of episodes of Criminal Intent, hundreds of episodes of Animal Precinct, and dozens of episodes of the reality show "I Love Money." But even one episode is like an eternity of bad TV, so bring on the Olympics. But as I watch this terrible, terrible television, I thought up a few reality TV shows of my own:

-Bloods vs. Crips. Talk about a ratings!

-How about a reality show where you drop contestants (practically) naked in the middle of Manhattan, with no money, no ID, and force them to build up as much of an empire as they can in the space of, say, two months.

-A reality show where all the former reality show contestants are gathered up and forced to fight for their lives. Fight to the death! I think it would come down to New York and Omarosa.

Those are my ideas.

Twilight: a Comparison

2008-08-13T09:45:00.001-07:00

Okay, so it may seem a little late to review a book that was first published in 2005, but I was swept up by all the anticipation for Breaking Dawn, the last in the Twilight series and I figured I’d give the series about teenage vampire love a try. The last time I did something like this was in the months preceding the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Though I had never actually read a single Potter book, I was caught up in the buzz (uproar might be a better word) that was ringing in the months before July 2007 and I wanted in on the fun. And so I read the entire series and was pleasantly surprised by what I discovered therein. Sure enough, I was in line at 11:30 on July 20, waiting excitedly amongst the crowd, and although I wasn’t sporting a robe and a wand, and hadn’t penciled in a lightning-bolt scar on my forehead, I had become a Potter convert. The same cannot be said about the Twilight novel.

Although they stem from completely separate universes, and share very little of the same audience (Twilight’s feet are planted firmly in what is pejoratively known as ‘chic-lit,’) much has been made about the similarities of these books. A recent “Entertainment Weekly” article on the Twilight series referenced J.K. Rowling and her Harry Potter universe no less than a dozen times. Because of the frantic sales of the Twilight series (over 50 million copies sold worldwide), people have appointed Twilight author Stephenie Meyer the ‘next J.K. Rowling.’ Nothing could be further from the truth.

As I’ve hinted, the intended Twilight audience is decidedly female. I had a friendly, somewhat embarrassing conversation with the sales lady at Barnes & Noble about how much my sister/mom/girlfriend is going to love the book I was buying for her. “Um, it’s for me,” I sheepishly declared. She hesitated. “Oh that’s okay. I’ve been trying to get my husband to read this too!” But while the terminology of ‘chic-lit’ may be derogatory, I think the insult here lies not with Twilight, but rather with ‘chicks.’ That is to say, the chic-lit moniker does not debase the book, but to label this book in such a way, debases the chic-lit moniker itself. This book is atrocious.
I approached it with an open mind, excited to be pulled into a new universe with new and exciting characters. But while Harry, Ron and Hermione have become flesh-and-bone people to me, the characters in Twilight are as flat and limp as the acid-free bond paper they’re printed on. Harry is a great (though imperfect) protagonist: conflicted, full of emotion, yet rooted in a strong sense of morality (he rarely lies, and is intensely loyal). Myer’s Isabella Swan, on the other hand, besides having a subtle-as-a-freight-train moniker, is flat and uninteresting. She’s deceptive, but not in an interesting, literary way. More in the way you wouldn’t want your teenage daughters to behave. Her would-be lover, vampire Edward Cullen, is instantly smitten with her ‘fascinating’ personality. Personally, I find the lint in my bellybutton to be much more interesting.

The writing itself is vague and uninspired, reminding me of the journals I kept in my pre-teen years. In fact, that may have been Myer’s master stroke here. Setting the book up with a first-person narrative, when your narrator is an immature teenager, and your writing style is painfully sophomoric—it’s a match made in heaven. But from a reader’s point of view, it’s like drinking a light American beer with too much head: all froth and no taste. While Rowling adeptly takes you from scene to scene with seamless transitions and chapter endings that make you want to turn the page and keep right on reading, Myer clumsily spools out narrative like a first draft English paper: choppy and full of stuffing. Rowling will advance a scene and reveal much about her characters in just a few lines of dialogue, while several chapters in Twilight can go by and the reader will wonder, what was the point in all that?

I’m not saying Rowling is the perfect author, either. She can often oversimplify the emotion of a moment, and has a recognized fondness for adverbs. But Rowling’s sins as an author have been Xeroxed and magnified 150% in Stephenie Meyer’s writing. Unconvincing teenage over-emotion: check. Excessive use of adverbs: check check.
I’m a strong opponent of praise for praise’s sake; success for the sake of success, such as Dan Brown’s steamy-pile-of-Mona-Lisa-extrement, The Da Vinci Code. Even the writing in Harry Potter, does not deserve the accolades it commands worldwide. But if Potter is a B+ book getting A++++ treatment, Twilight is a D- book getting A++ treatment. And that just doesn’t seem right.

Knee-jerk Reactions

2008-08-02T20:26:00.000-07:00

Over the last month or so, I've devoted a small portion of time to the matter of the knee-jerk reaction. I've been studying various reactions to specific stimuli and I've noticed just how common we as a species revert to our automated responses. We’re almost a slave to these responses.

Mention the name of Bill Clinton to your average Orange County resident and watch the eyes roll back in his head. Conversely, drop George W. Bush’s name in a pub in highly-liberal Toronto and you can reasonably expect that no one will pick up your drink. This reflex isn’t limited to the arena of politics. Favourably mention your average top-40 band to the local music snob and you can almost see their respect for you drop. Mention Rush Limbaugh to anyone left of Mussolini, and— well, you might see a little vomit.

Pop culture, music, movies—there’s some innate part of us that reacts before it thinks. Consider your own reaction to the following:

-Rush Limbaugh

-Howard Stearn

-Nickleback

-Fox News

-The New York Times

-Coldplay

-Miley Sirus

-Country Music

The knee-jerk motion is extremely frustrating. While these reactions are informed by our core beliefs (which are legitimate), there is a point where ideology takes over critical thought. It’s important to fight against this so that we don’t become static in our world view; so that we keep an open mind; and so that we don’t react like automatons reading from the playbook. Because we’re people, not robots.

If you hate Bill Clinton, try to explore those feelings and determine weather they’re legitimately yours, or whether you’ve picked up on the rhetoric of talk radio and TV news. So many times I’ve heard people recycle others’ comments and have thought to myself, “how often do I do that?” While I’m an Obama supporter, I must constantly reexamine what it is about his policies and persona that I find appealing, rather than buying into the extensive media machine that sycophantically drools after him.

In the music arena, Coldplay are often derided as top-40 hacks who write overly sensitive songs in a way that vaguely, and inadequately, mimics Radiohead. This, only after their first standout album brought them riches, uncounted radio hits, and legions of fans (not to mention critical acclaim). But Chris Martin and co. deserve a closer look at the product they work hard to put out. If you listen and decide, ‘this isn’t for me,’ it’s fine. But you must listen first before making up your mind. Don’t write off the band just because they’re successful.

Read “My Life,” before you put that final nail in Clinton’s coffin. Check out “The Audacity of Hope,” to help inform your opinions about Obama. If you find you’re not a fan of the McCain, talk to your local member of the Straight-talk Express. I guarantee you will be enlightened. If you end up as an opponent of McCain, at least you gave him a chance. Oh, and if you don’t like Rush Limbaugh, talk to… uh, wait, you’re on your own there.

The Humans are Dead

2008-07-27T10:34:00.000-07:00

I'll admit I tend to drift into lengthy hyperbole, as I get very excited about things, so please forgive me when I say that last night's Flight of the Conchords show was one of the best shows of my life! (See Dara's blog for an alternate take on the evening).
When I saw that Largo had posted a Greg Proops/Flight of the Conchords chat show, I snapped up a reservation using Largo's archaic and highly confusing reservation system. If I could only see two or three Conchords songs, I would be grateful, having become a fan during the premier episode of their brilliant, eponymous HBO show.

So Dara and I decided to make an event of it. We started at the House of Blues Foundation Room, which features an incredible dining experience. HOB is less than 10 minutes down the street from Largo (both of these being my favourite venues, nay, favourite LA locations, period), so we hopped it on over to Largo just in time for the show.

The show started with Jon Brion as the opener, which was a pleasant surprise from me. He came out happy and full of energy, which translated into musical brilliance. Jon played two of his songs, one a piano loop number of "Same Thing" which I had seen him do several times, but still love, and another in which he loops the drums, bass, piano, and plays guitar. This is one of his newer songs which I've seen him play, but still don't know name of.

I envied the audience's experience, as these people were here to see Conchords, and had no idea about the brilliance of Jon. He was on fire and pulled the audience in immediately. There were roars of screaming and clapping after he had finished. He made believers out of everyone.

After this was a stream-of-consciousness tirade from the brilliantly opinionated Greg Proops (you may know him from the hit "Whose Line Is It?") Greg is a maven of cultural and political knowledge, and has a vocabulary to match, which makes his comedy funny, if offensive (Dara and I were in stitches).

On to the main event. If you are unfamiliar with Flight of the Conchords, you are urged to buy their debut season on DVD immediately. This duo perfectly blends comedy and music in a way which is both hilarious, and musically satisfying. (Note: most comedic musicians are light on the music and often light on the comedy, too. But if anything is lacking, it's usually the music. Not here. Conchords has a knack for grooves and melodies that are catchy as hell, and make you laugh out loud.)

After poking fun at Janeane Garofolo who couldn't manage to obtain a seat, and was thus sitting on a folding chair in the side stage, Proops finally introduced the Conchords. The applause was deafening, especially for a 250-seat theatre. Out came Jemaine Clemente and Brett McKenzie, the two halves of the brilliant Flight of the Conchords. They were quiet and meek, leading me to believe that they were in character on stage, as well as on screen. However, a few minutes of stage time showed me that there really is very little difference between their HBO characters, and what I perceived their personalities to be. The biggest difference: they're clearly not idiots, while their onscreen counterparts are.

The show started with a new number about all the clever ways Jemaine has been dumped by his girlfriends ("Carol Brown left town; Mona's in a coma; Felicity said there was no electricity; Jane said she never wanted to see me again; when she saw me again, she said it again....") This was hilarious, however, Jemaine forgot the words and they pulled the plug (literally) on their bossa-nova harmonium beatmaker, which Jemaine 'played' with pizazz. Thankfully, they played this song again later in the set, and it was worth the wait!

The boys then embarked on several newer tunes, although they did play a fan favourite: "The Humans are Dead" to much applause. In between they would talk in their slow, New Zealand accents, with dead-pan brilliance that left us all in stitches. It was at this point that I regretted not bootlegging the show, although it wouldn't have been fair to the listener. I would have been laughing and guffawing the whole way through.

The Conchords finished a song and Greg Proops came out to chat. They waxed poetic about the recent mexican wrestling restaurant they had visited, or the recent air guitar contest they had judged, and then Greg announced that Jon Brion would come out and play some music with them. My favourite musician of all time, playing with two of my favourite comedians? I pooped my pants a little at this stage.

Jon came out (still full of energy) and jumped on the drums. Brett set him up for the beat, and Jon started to play. Then he looped it and jumped off the kit, and Brett and Jemaine made eyebrows (half jokingly) at Jon's prowess. Then Jon jumped on bass, mimicking the riff that Brett was plunking out on his acoustic, and again Brett was impressed, like an audience member marveling at a magician's trick. The trio proceeded to pump out a brilliant song about how rappers have hurt feelings. It was basically a list of everything that hurts their feelings. Brett jumped up to switch guitars in the middle of the song and Jemaine improvised, "it hurts my feelings when you leave the stage without telling me, Brett." In the background, Jon Brion was singing in his weird robotic/vocoder voice, "it hurts my feelings...." A pitch-perfect blend of music and comedy not to be missed.

Dark Knight in Shining Armor

2008-07-21T19:56:00.000-07:00

Early this past Sunday, while the good boys and girls were out churching, Dara and I caught the highly anticipated film, "The Dark Knight." I've no time for proper film criticism, but I will say that the film deserves all the accolades it receives. Nearly.

Most praise for the film has fallen on Heath Ledger's stunning performance, and rightly so. The hair stands on your head as you watch flesh out the scenes we all obsessively glimpsed in the countless trailers. Ledger's performance threatens to eclipse the movie and almost would do so, if not for Nolan's careful handling of the story. The cinematography fits the tone, as does the haunting music. The Joker's leitmotif comes to mind as a couple of notes fighting it out, sounding like a vacuum cleaner eerily signal to the viewer that the Joker is about to chill and thrill us.

So what's wrong with this movie? My complaint is not great, and would easily have been rectified if someone had invited me to a pre-screening. The biggest albatross weighing the film down is the clunky subplot involving Aaron Eckhart's Two Face character. This character promises more than it can possibly deliver in a 2.5+ hour movie. In fact, that's another complaint: the length. This movie didn't have to be so long, and if Chris Nolan had excised the Two Face character, or at least diminished his involvement in the film, he would have all but eliminated my complaints (which is a huge concern for him, to be sure).

But there is one more minor complaint: as brilliant as Christian Bale is at resurrecting the Batman character, his barking-dog delivery of the dialog while wearing the cowl is tiresome.

But the complaints are minor. "The Dark Knight" was a great viewing experience, highly recommended to all. Next up, the following question: how does it stack up against Tim Burton's immortal original?

Pick your Poison

2008-07-13T11:34:00.000-07:00

This week I read two remarkable, and remarkably bleak dystopian books. The first was a beautiful piece of prose with the Oprah seal of approval called "The Road." This book is set in a post-Apocalyptic world which follows the story of the Man and the Boy as they traverse the eponymous Road across stricken America. In this book, the father and son avoid cannibalistic tribes of bad guys, struggle to find food and keep out the elements in an exploration of the darkest side of humanity.

At the same time I dusted off the classic dystopian universe which Orwell showed us in the classic "1984." Most people are familiar with the threats in this book: Big Brother, the telescreens, thought crime/police, the disappearances in the night; a government that completely dominates ever aspect of life, from sexuality and social interaction to work and death.

Both realities are terrifying, of course, but I started to think about which one scared me more, the pure anarchy of the former, or the repressive totalitarianism of the latter. With totalitarianism, life is a bleak existence of supply rations, zero freedom and constant fear of death. In anarchy, survival itself becomes an issue, and hope is a vague concept. Again with the constant fear of death.

Clearly neither is desirable, but with a totalitarian regime, the end will always come. Repressive regimes are not bound to last. But anarchy can persist indefinitely. And roving bands of cannibals! It's easy: I'd take Big Brother to the bleak reality of "The Road."

The House that Jon (Re)Built

2008-06-07T23:27:00.000-07:00

We have reached the end of an era as L.A.'s famous Largo on Fairfax moved to a new location. Now it is destined to become L.A.'s famous Largo on La Cienaga. Since moving to Southern California in 2005, I have had the pleasure of going to the Largo several times (most notably, for the great Jon Brion). At the end of its 12-year lease, the small, cabaret-style restaurant on Fairfax has new diggs, opting instead for a small, cabaret-style theatre on La Cienaga. Dara and I were able to catch a Jon Brion show at the new venue this past Friday (Brion's first at the new club, which he worked with quirky owner, Flanaga, to customize the sound system there).

During the show, Brion labeled the first four friday gigs as sound check, and after struggling through some technical difficulties (lost on all but the most veteran of musicians), Jon declared that playing the new place was like "driving a brand new car into a utility pole." But a bad day for Jon Brion is better than the best performances of most people.

And so it was that Jon started out with his beautiful "Theme," from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and then on to a funky piano-loop version of "Same Thing," from his band The Grays (always a great rendition). From there, he proceeded to wow the audience with a blend of standards, and rock tunes (the Kinks, The Who's "Baba O'Reilly,"), as well as Jon's own songs.

Jon is still getting used to the new place, and so must we all. So what is it like (for those of you who find such things interesting)? Well, no more crappy food. Or any food. Or drink, for that matter. Just sit quietly in the theatre and await the beautiful music. The seats are cramped, and are strangely numbered (our row started out #5, #3, #6, #23...), not to mention old and uncomfortable. The inside of the theatre is plain and unadorned, but for a red velvet curtain, and the aforementioned, brown-upholstered seats.

You enter the theatre via a charming courtyard terrace that opens to La Cienaga, and a very classy "Live, Nude, Girls, Girls, Girls" sign flasshing out at you from across the street. It's no Canters Deli, but it's interesting. Definitely worth checking out again.

Happy Anniversary!

2008-05-21T21:18:00.001-07:00

To my Dayray:

Two years ago today, we were standing on a beach at sunset with our friends and family, under a strange cow canopy, with even stranger officiants in a sea of Hawaiin t-shirts. That day we made a committment to one another to stay together forever, and after two years of marriage, I feel the bond of love more keenly. Here's to two years, to cotton, and to many more years.

I love you!

C'etait un Bon Voyage

2008-05-11T10:07:00.000-07:00

As my last post indicates, I recently boarded a short cruise with my wife and her parents, Morry and Janis. It was Carnival Cruise Line's Ensenada Cruise, which sets out from Long Beach, over to Catalina Island, and then swings by Ensenada, before heading back to the beautiful industrial port of Long Beach. When I mentioned to people that I was taking a cruise, many people responded that they, like I, have never been on a cruise. So after my maiden voyage, what do I have to say about cruising?

To be honest, I was expecting something more maritime, less cheap Las Vegas hotel. More Queen Mary, less Circus Circus. Sure, I was aware of the onboard casino, and the chorus line-type shows, not to mention the 24-hour buffets, but somehow I pictured a tranquil voyage along the ocean, reading a book, watching the giant ship's wake churn peaceful water into a bubbling, boiling brew. I pictured writing poetry on the deck, as islands passed by in the setting southwestern sun, with the dulcet tones of a pedal steel playing in the background. Instead, there were harry man competitions, bingo, and endless trivia games, surrounded by the occasional passing whiff of vomit. The shows were glammy, and reminded me of a polished high-school musical.

Now it's not to say these are bad things, but they were much different than my expectations. In short, the cruise was somewhat campy. In fact, it felt very much like a giant sleep-away camp for overweight adults.

Still I had a good time. As busy as we were running around from activity to activity, or to the ports of call (more on them later), I still managed to slip in a nap every day, and I finished each day with a relaxing read. Also, I managed to keep on top of the latest Obama/Hillary news from the comfort of my suite.

I had a great time with Dara and her parents, eating fancy dinners overlooking the ocean, or playing a round of mini-golf, or laughing at the disappointing ports of call that Carnival had chosen.

Speaking of which, since living in California, I have always wanted to visit Catalina Island (just off the coast of L.A.) and Mexico. After being on this cruise I can now check those two destinations off of my list, but that's about it. Catalina was not as pretty as I had hoped it to be, and Ensenada is above all else, a gaudy tourist trap where impoverished locals hock their (often useless) wares on tourists looking to show a memento of their experience. It was a buzzing place, and not altogether pretty, though it was rather humourous to witness my mother-in-law asking the border patrol for directions as Dara and Morry yelled at her to keep moving.

I think I'll have to try another cruise and another destination before I can fully make up my mind about the cruising industry. Some elements appealed to me (all-you-can-eat food, despite my diet, the ocean views, the gentle swaying of the boat), while others did not (see above). Still, I can't complain about getting some time off work, spending it with family and creating new and interesting memories.

First post in a long time. Last post for a week.

2008-05-04T21:48:00.001-07:00

Well it has certainly been a crazy couple of months. February and March were intensely busy at work, so when April rolled around, I figured, why not make it a hat-trick. As such, I have had very little free time for the blogosphere. But I thought I'd put in a few words before Dara and I cast off to sea on a 5-day cruise with her parents, Morry and Janis.

Not much has been going on besides work. Little things here and there. I started dieting and exercising several months ago, and I'm down 25 lbs so far (as a Canadian, I should probably use kilograms, but I still don't know my weight in Kg). So that's exciting news for me.

I took Dara out shooting comps with me in San Bernardino. Unfortunately, this proved to be a bad idea, as we both discovered when she started freaking out from lack of food, an intense need to pee, and fatigue (among other things). But we got the comp shots, and made it back to OC, where we caught up with the latest buzz flick, "Forgetting Sarah Marshall."

Moany people will probably say that the most difficult thing to forget about this movie was the, er, elongated penis shot (sorry, had to say it) at the beginning of the movie. But, despite my misgivings, it was a respectable showing (the movie, not the penis). Not a bad rom-com popcorn flick.

I had rented "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" this weekend, which I had heard good things about, but unfortunately, we were so busy running around taking comp shots and getting ready for the cruise, we weren't able to watch it. And so we returned it. You win this round, Blockbuster.

Today we hosted a BBQ for 9. It was a sunny, slightly cool day (my favourite weather!) and we had family visit us from Beverly Hills down to Temecula (not to mention Georgia). It was a fun, if somewhat chaotic afternoon of too much steak and salmon, but it's always nice to catch up with family, and collectively pray for a Democratic victory this November. Except for Morry, the Republican black sheep of the family. It's okay, Morry, we still love you.

Speaking of victory, the Lakers pulled off an impressive win today. Anyone who knows me knows I'm not much of a sports fan, but there are a few teams out there I will occasionally root for in my own clumsy, girlish way. I'm the kind of guy who would give a passing glance at the game, casually ask "how we doin'?" and nod my head impressively at the score as I grab the drinks and head out into the dining area. But I'm an absolutely FANTASTIC basketball player, as my brother-in-law Larry can attest to.

So after the BBQ, it was cleanup time, and time to pack and get ready for tomorrow's cruise. Check. Then a quick game of Wii bowling. Check. Then we must ridicule Morry's terrible virtual-bowling skills. Check-check. Then it's off to BJs for some amazing deep-dish, guilty, late-night pizza. Check. Must return video to Blockbuster (see above. Damn you, once again Blockbuster). Check. Also: library book. Check.

Well, this is why I haven't blogged in a while. Just not too much to say. So I will say adios. Happy Cinco de Mayo tout le monde. If you don't hear from me after a week, comb the regional islands looking for a skinny man trying to use a coconut as a radio. Otherwise I'll see you on May 10th.

Ahoy hoy,

Myke

The Hot Girl

2008-04-01T22:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I'm watching "The Office" tonight, and it's the Hot Girl episode, where the pretty girl comes into the office and everyone goes nuts, because they don't seem to know how to act around a pretty girl. It was very appropos because we have a new girl in the office today and by all accounts, she's pretty. And it's funny to watch all the guys in the office trip all over themselves and make excuses to talk to the admin staff who are training her. In fact, I watched Michael Scott tripping all over himself talking to the hot girl, and it instantly reminded me of a guy in our office. It was kinda funny.

Weekend Update

2008-03-29T22:38:00.000-07:00

So the blog posts have been few and far between these days. I've been working longer, most stressful hours, leaving less time for self-indulgent practices like blogging. However, I have the weekend off, I'm in San Diego visiting with Dara's Dad who flew out here on Friday, and everyone's asleep. Let me write a few sentences before I fall asleep myself (or put you, dear reader, to sleep also).

As I've said, work has been extremely busy. As this happens, I start to ask myself questions. Has it always been this busy and I just didn't notice? Does everyone else have a job as chaotic as mine? I have some friends (I'm thinking of you Rich) whose work involves long, grueling hours spent out in the cold, lovingly installing the windows of corporate jerks, then driving home for two hours. And, I have some friends whose work is easy, rewarding, and high-paying. Sometimes I feel that, for all the blood, sweat and tears I pour into my work, I should be making seven figures. Other times I think of people like Rich and I'm shamed into putting down my head and pressing on, grateful that I don't have to lift 100-lbs of glass up three flights of stairs in the winter. I guess I don't mind working hard, or working often... it's the stress that comes from deadlines, and from the ever-present possibility (and even probability) of failure. I don't like that my job keeps me up at night. I like challenging work, but I like to keep it at work, and not at home. We'll see if I can work out a happy medium.

In other news, I went to another Jon Brion/Largo show last night. Last night's show was very important to me because Largo is moving down the street from its current location (into a larger, theatre-style building), and last night was probably my last chance to experience wunderkind Jon Brion, before I have to do so elsewhere. Largo is a legendary club in L.A. and I didn't want to pass up this last opportunity. Also, I brought along a musician friend of mine who hadn't see JB perform, and I just knew he was going to love the show!

Unfortunately, the trip to L.A. was a chaotic one. Traffic wasn't great (what, L.A. traffic on a Friday night was slow? Seriously?), and I took a few detours that beat up my car somewhat. After a slew of cursing and swearing that flowed like a stream-of-consciousness Alan Ginsberg poem, I calmed down. But I think I freaked Ryan (aforementioned musician) right out.

We arrived at Largo somewhat tense, but still in high spirits. My brother-in-law Larry, and his friend (and mine) Bobby showed up afterward and we were ushered in the door.

For the uninitiated, Largo is a soup-nazi-like place which produces an incredible product (music, not soup), but makes you jump through certain hoops to get it, and won't take any bullshit from anyone in the process. And the process goes like this: before you get in the door, turn your cell phone off. If they see you playing with it (texting, talking, etc...) they'll kick you out. Once you get inside, (try to have exact change), you sit at a table and eat the crappy food they give you without complaint (or they'll kick you out). As you sit there (this is a recent addition to the agony of the ritual you have to do to see a Largo show), they increase the volume on the music exponentially, so that you are (without any exaggeration) screaming at the top of your lungs to talk to someone less than one foot away from you. But after all the bad food is cleared away and the beer is settled happily in your stomach, Jon Brion comes on.

I've already gushed on and on about the brilliance of Jon Brion in previous posts, so I won't do it here, but suffice it to say, it was a good show. No, a great show (as always). My friend Ryan was able to adequately sum up Jon's performance (in relation to his, and my song writing). "After watching Jon play, I feel like my music is like painting with primary colors." (He's American so I left the "u" out). And that's exactly it. Such brilliance; such wonderful, subtle depth to his playing. So many hidden shades that colour the music in beautiful ways. Another great Jon Brion show.

And so here I am in San Diego, in a pull out couch, listening to my stomach gurgle as it gets more and more upset that I asked for medium-rare steak, instead of medium-well. Sorry, stomach, it just tastes better that way. I'm sure you understand.

My Oscar Predictions

2008-02-24T15:39:00.000-08:00

I'm running out of time to get these down before they become simply, My Oscar Dictions. So here goes:

Best Director:

Should win: Coen Bros.
Will win: Coen Bros.

Supporting Actress:

Expected to win: Tilda Swinton (why???)
Will win: Cate Blanchett (voters love stunt casting.)

Supporting Actor:

Should win: Javier Bardem
Will win: Javier Bardem. I should note, however, that Tom Wilkinson is a stunning actor who needs recognition. But he will not define "Michael Clayton," the way Javier's image will forever be associated with "No Country." I get chills just thinking about his terrifying performance.

Best Actress:

Favored to win: Julie Christie
My choice: Ellen Page. "Juno" would not have been the fabulous success it was without her. Her sarcastic charm quite simply made that movie. Plus I'm tired of Oscars going to actors who portray mental disease, as is the case with Christie.

Best Actor:

Favored to win: Daniel Day Lewis
Will win: Daniel Day Lewis. I don't think anyone doubts this one.

Best Picture:

Favored to win: No Country for Old Men
Will win: No Country for Old Men. I'm at a disadvantage here, having not seen "There Will Be Blood," (despite my best efforts), which seems like it's more of a 'best movie' film. However, "No Country" was brilliant, sparsely peppered with music, rich landscapes, a compelling story, and a likely best-director win for the Coen Bros. I'd put my money on "Country."

Rocco

2008-02-08T22:11:00.000-08:00

Last night I went out to the Roxy in L.A. to see Rocco Deluca and the Burden. The first act was below average for a national act, and probably still mediocre for a high school band (they were both), while the second act (Honey Honey) were awesome.

But the night was about Rocco, who was great. There was one point where I was standing beside a man who looked exactly like musician/producer-extraordinaire, Daniel Lanois. Five songs later, Rocco called Daniel Lanois to the stage. Guess this guy fooled everyone in the club into thinking he was Daniel. He even ended up playing a song. (Yeah, it really was him).

Rocco's sound was great. Big fat drums, an awesome Hammond B-3 sound (he had an amazing organ, one could say), but the draw was Rocco's talented slide playing, around which all these sounds are built. Decent show.

Weekend escapades

2008-02-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

Last night Dara and I went to The Improv to see "Flight of the Conchords" alum, Rhys Darby. For those of you familiar with the show, you will recognize him as Murray, the naive New Zealand band manager. For those of you at the standup show on Friday, you will recognize him as the hilariously naive New Zealand comic. I can't describe the show for you, but fans of comedy are encouraged to check out his show.

The next morning Dara and I went to the dentist. I'm not particularly afraid of the dentist, but this dentist wasn't very appealing. For starters, her office was open, without any separation between the chairs. She didn't have any staff (how many times have you had the dentist clean your teeth, rather than a hygienist?), and she burped right as she sat me down. Not impressed.

After the trip to the dentist, we went out for some breakfast. While we were at a traffic stop, we saw a small mouse trying to cross the street. He got to the middle and doubled back when a car came. We were cheering for the little guy to make it across, and then a car came and drove right over him. It's surprising how sad an event like that can make you. One second ago, that mouse was alive. Now, it's dead. I don't want to make too much of a small event, but little moments like that can remind you how quick and fragile life is. And to look both ways before crossing the street.

Driving up the coast

2008-01-19T20:56:00.000-08:00

This weekend I met up with Dara, who was attending a job fair with her company, Fluor. The job fair is in San Luis Obispo, and this area is amazing. Today, Dara and I spent time in downtown SLO (San Luis Obispo), drove up the coast to the Hearst Castle (as in William Randolph), which was a stunning property. Not a bad place to hang up the hat at the end of the day, ol' Billy Hearst!

We drove south to Pismo Beach, where we checked in to our 'boutique' hotel, The Cliffs. For the price we're paying, it's mediocre at best. Granted the view is spectacular (set atop the bluffs overlooking the Pacific), but our last room looked like it was a modified broom closet, and our current room is right by the ice machine and the laundry room, deep in the basement. I guess our apartment has spoiled us for other accomodations. Still, we're having a nice little micro vacation. Anything to take my mind of the insanity of a work week that awaits me, starting Sunday night when we get back. Here's to central California!

Terminatrix

2008-01-16T22:12:00.000-08:00

I was watching the Sarah Connor Chronicles tonight, and one of the new characters is a cyborg; an update of the robot perfected by Schwartzeneggar. Arny's not a bad looking guy, but this terminator is a pretty young female, and already the producers have played up a kind of tension between the John Connor character and the terminator.

It brought to mind a prediction that scientists recently made. Scientists predict that in the near future, there will be robots which are indistinguishable from humans; a world where robots will be sex partners, perhaps even life companions. So I pose the question: would you?

Juno is not a city in Alaska?

2007-12-30T21:28:00.000-08:00

It never ceases to amaze me that filmmakers are able to put a fresh spin on an old concept. Take the old we-had-sex-and-SURPRISE!-I’m-pregnant genre. We’ve seen different takes on this since the old Degrassi days, but when you place the concept in the capable hands of Jason Reitman (son of Ivan) as director, with Diablo Cody manning the screenplay, you’ll find the movie is no demon.

With this new film that defines the word offbeat, Fox Searchlight has shown a talent for quirky dysfunctional family movies (see “Little Miss Sunshine.”) And like Little Miss Sunshine before it, “Juno,” was swept off its feet by a charming young woman. Instead of Abigail Breslin, however, we have quirky Ellen Page, rocking out as someone unexpectedly expecting with the ever-deadpan Michael Cera as her unwitting baby-daddy. Set in an unnamed fictional town (and filmed in British Columbia), the setting lends a graying sadness, buoyed by the soft music of composer Matt Messina.

But to talk about anything in this movie without first mentioning the dialogue, which bubbles and fizzes from character to character, would be a sin. And the characters are the fresh-yet-familiar variety we love in our movies: people we relate to; people we recognize, but never people who bore us, as does Bob in accounting.

I don’t want to say much else about this film other than to say: 1) go see this film; 2) once you get used to it, you will love the quirky dialogue; 3) no one could have delivered the dialogue with better timing and efficacy than soon-to-be-nominated-for-an-oscar Ellen Page (also a Canadian!); and 4) go see this film.

Sometimes Words are better than Pictures

2007-12-26T21:38:00.000-08:00

Here's my Christmas breakdown:

On Christmas Eve, Dara and I wanted to see some lights and so, hearing about the infamous boat parade in Newport Beach, decided to go there. Unfortunately, the parade wasn't going, and almost every community by the beach is xenophobic, er, I mean gated.... so most of the lights we saw were from afar. But Dara and I had a lot of fun driving around, singing songs and wishing we owned some beachfront property.

That night we went home, Dara slept, and I baked butter tarts until 1:30 am. (American friends: look them up. Anyone else who wants to tease me for baking... screw you!)

Dara woke up early because she saw some big boxes in the livingroom. No, they weren't flat-screen TVs. But the side tables (the final piece in our bedroom set) were a hit. So was the "Flight of the Conchords" DVD (though we were disappointed to learn there were no special features included.

After presents, we went to friends Harrison and Laird (and soon-to-be Oliver)'s place to exchange stockings, be goofy, play Wii and have a good time. Mission Accomplished.

After that, it was off to see our neices and nephews (and of course their parents). We were there to steal food, exchanging gifts, be goofy, to find out what all the fuss is about with this Guitar Hero game and to have fun. There was also an appearance by Ed of Donna and Ed fame.

After this, we rushed off to have dinner with Hilary, which was surprisingly hectic (busy restaurant for a Christmas Day). Then it was off home to put in about four hours of work, and then sleep (which I desperatedly needed. Did I mention the butter tarts?)

How Enchanting

2007-12-09T21:08:00.000-08:00

With a story recycled from scraps of the Disney canon, like Cinderella might fashion a pretty dress out of a set of old drapes, this movie is fun for several reasons. For starters, it shows that Disney isn't afraid to poke fun at itself, with a fun wink-and-nod irony normally reserved for broadway. The characters are familiar, and the story is heartwarming and fun. The ending is no less enjoyable for having been predictable, and the casting is spot on. This one is more appropriate for the kiddies.

The Golden Compass

2007-12-09T12:12:00.000-08:00

Last night our friends Harrison and Laird convinced us to see the movie The Golden Compass. Although Dara was not interested in seeing that movie in the least, preferring instead to see Enchanted, we caved, owing mostly to Laird's pregnant-and-ready-to-burst condition. To all pregnant ladies out there: this is your time to dominate and get anything you want. Please use your powers for good and not evil!

The movie falls on the heels of a recent, post-LOTR/Harry Potter trend of fantasy movies based on hit books. (See also: Narnia, Eragon, Arthur and the Invisibles, etc....) But whether the failure in this movie was in the book itself (which I've heard is quite good), or the way it was transferred to celluloid, remains a mystery (at least until I read the Philip Pullman trilogy which, after this experience, won't be any time soon).

As you may be able to tell, I thought this movie was a flop. The storyline was a confusing mess, with much ado about some cosmic dust that seems important, but is as compelling asit sounds (meaning, not at all). There is an epic battle between two giant bears, which is interesting and also somewhat disturbing as it reaches its climax. (Note: this movie is not for children 10 years or younger). The characters are more two-dimensional than the original novel pages it was printed on; and the ending--a setup for the next two movies to come--was a cheat. Fans of Daniel Craig may as well stay home, for all his 6 minutes of screen time, and Nicole Kidman's watery-to-the-point-of-tears eyes are hardly enough to carry a film. Rotten tomatoes gave it a 43% rating. As always, that website is right on the money!

Celebrity sightings

2007-12-03T06:20:00.001-08:00

Oh, and I forgot to mention our celebrity sightings this weekend:

Friday we saw a few I-know-your-face-but-not-your-name C-listers at the Largo show with Jon Brion, and Sunday at the "Wicked" show, we saw Heavy D and Ricky Schroeder... both relics of the 80s. But it was still a laugh. That is all.

Time to catch up on some blogging

2007-12-02T18:59:00.000-08:00

This past few weeks has been very busy, so I have to do a marathon session to catch up on what's happened since the 22nd, when Dara and I flew to Toronto. That seems like a good place to start:

On the 22nd, Dara and I took a bumpy flight to Toronto to visit friends and family. The primary reason for our visit was to see Dara's Grandpa John, whose smiles and hand-holding alone was worth the price of admission. And on top of that, we got to see our great friends and family, had plenty of dinners, and lots of good times. Of course the only complaint with trips like these is always how short they have to be. But we will see our good friends again. I picked up a cold in Toronto, grabbed some Xanax for the flight home and arrived with a fresh new cold and a cough that persists to the present day.

The week that followed our trip was just as frenzied, but involved a lot of trying to catch up on sleep and working hard.

In the meantime, my little bro Cat turned 23 (Happy Birthday Cat!) Cat was born in the very Orwelian year of 1984, and although I'm the big brother, I think Cat is proof that there is something to be paranoid about. Just joking, bro. Love you. Happy Birthday!

Finally, this weekend was an L.A. weekend. For our Christmas Party, the president of my company (Steve) bought his employees tickets to see the play "Wicked." So Dara and I got a hotel (Westin, downtown L.A. Cool elevators, too much ambient noise, and paper-thin walls), and had a great time. Friday night was a trip to The Largo, my favourite music club/cabaret/piano bar/place in the world. Here we listened to the sublime comedy of Paul F. Tomkins, and some lesser-known emcees who entertained us in the "Shark-a-thon," fundraiser, for the house sound technician, who found himself on the business end of a tiger shark (and survived). The evening was comprised of surprisingly funnny shark jokes, aquatic-themed music (played by my favourite musical savant, Jon Brion) and some good times. I was excited because this was Dara's first live exposure to my all-time favourite artist, JB, and although she was looking forward more to the "Wicked" show than the Jon Brion one, his brilliance, and the general fun of the night turned her opinion. We also made believers out of good friends Anthony and Rosio, who also had a great time. Anthony approached Jon Brion and, as always, I shook hands, said hello, told him I'm a huge admirer, then ducked out shyly. I want to listen to his music, not to be friends with him. But he is a very nice guy.

Anyway, back to the hotel to sleep (or try to). This persistent cough of mine has been keeping me awake at night. I had a difficult time falling asleep, especially in the too-loud Westin Bonadventure. We woke up, had some room service, then drove over to see "Wicked." Although Dara has turned my opinion of musicals (which was previously low), I have read the book on which this play is based, and was thoroughly unimpressed. In short, I hated the book. But the play turned my opinion around. Everything the book wasn't (concise, well written, entertaining), the play was. It was essentially the same story, but tighter. For those who don't know, "Wicked," is a play detailing the life of the Wicked Witch of the West (nee Elphaba, performed with brilliance by Eden Espinosa). The play is an etiological play, showing how the world of Oz came about, as well as an essay about moral ambiguity. It was entertaining, and we had a great time.

Then it was time to come home and sleep. So now you're all caught up. If you care.

Disneyland adventures

2007-11-18T08:21:00.001-08:00

I went to Disneyland on Friday with Dara, and our chance-encounter friends Rosio and Anthony. Having been to Disney (and its sister park California Adventure) several times, I was somewhat ho-hum about the prospect of going. I tend to prefer huge theme parks with sky-scraping rollercoasters that push back the skin on your face towards your ears. Disney is huge, but the rides are more tame.

I don't know if my tastes have changed with age, or whether I just abandoned my previous prejudices at the park, or if it's because we went on mostly (but not all) adult-oriented rides, but I had a great time. (See here for a great visual reference.)

Considering our proximity to Thanksgiving, I figured there would be a huge crowd, but there wasn't (not until the lights turned off, anyway). The queues were short (averaging ten minutes), and we were able to get on most of the rides, including, Pirates of the Caribbean, Space Mountain, some Star Wars ride, Finding Nemo Submarine Ride, Indiana Jones, and Tower of Terror, the latter two which were a lot of fun!

The food was mediocre, but the company was top-notch, and the day was a lot more fun than I had anticipated. I guess it's a magic kingdom afterall.

Before I go, let me say Happy Birthday to Evert!

Remember to Remember

2007-11-11T08:04:00.000-08:00

November 11, 1918, 11:11 am.

Head in the Sand

2007-11-10T09:47:00.000-08:00

One of the remarkable benchmarks of human achievement has been our ability to survive through some very difficult times. Although there have been a few major setbacks involving war and plague, human population has generally been increasing steadily since the dawn of our creation. Go forth and multiply; that sort of thing. In the last hundred years, our scientific and technological innovations have allowed more of the human population to survive for much longer periods of time. The end result: a total population approaching seven billion (that’s 7,000,000,000) people. Thus, what started as an indicator of human progress has become a harbinger of our own demise.

It amazes me that many people don’t consider overpopulation a threat. Then again, I’m equally amazed at those who renounce global warming, who throw away the sophisticated arguments of theoretical physicists because it runs contrary to their theology, or who rather foolishly put their faith (and their children’s sexual future) in so-called abstinence education. But people are often willing to ignore science (the very thing that got us here in the first place) if it is incompatible with their particular world view. Though I support the idea of questioning established beliefs, I never want to be so static as to be unchangeable when the tallies come in.

But I think the disavowal of global overpopulation as a problem is largely a western one. This is no surprise, considering the massive populations of nations like China, India, and the ever-crowded Japan. But before one dismisses overcrowding as an Asian problem, consider this:

World population doubles roughly every 40 years. Americans today have approximately 1.8 acres of land available per capita for the production of food. Of this, an American only needs 1.2 acres to sustain his dietary needs. However, with world population projections (roughly one acre lost due to urbanization, per person who enters the U.S. via border or birth canal), by the time the global population has doubled from its current number (roughly 40 years from now), there will be only 0.6 acres of farmland per capita, and “Asia’s problem” will reach the west. This argument doesn’t even take into account the issues of soil erosion or the shortage of ground water which will compound the problem.

Food export will be a thing of the past, which will increase the price of food exponentially. So, although you’ve noticed a lot of empty land on the way to Grandma’s house where lots of new housing subdivisions can go, you’ve neglected to think about food and other resources. (If this isn’t a good enough reason to get the kiddies to strap on a condom, then perhaps AIDS or other STDs would be… yes? No?)

The funny (read: sad) thing is that most people are waiting for science and technology to bail them out of whatever problems arise, when skepticism is no longer viable (i.e. taking one’s head out of the sand on the global warming issue, because one is getting a severe sunburn in the process). This is most ironic, since it is these very institutions that disbelievers rejected in the first place.

Myke's Top 25 Favourite Beatles Songs

2007-11-04T11:21:00.000-08:00

My brother-in-law, Larry, and I have been discussing our favourite Beatles songs for a while now, and while it seems like sacrilege to do this, I'm committing my favourite 25 to paper. At least as of November 4th. Because the beautiful thing about Beatles songs is that your favourites keep changing and growing. In fact, up until the forming of this list, my number 2 pick was my number 1. I don't think I need to justify these songs; they are what they are. I will say that, being a fan of top-10 lists, it's just wrong to try to condense such genius into 10 songs. Even 25 is a stretch. There are about 15 songs I left off the list I absolutely cannot live without. So, without further ado:

1-A Day in the Life

2-Hey Jude

3-Happiness Is a Warm Gun

4-Because (Anthology a cappella version)

5-I Want You (She’s So Heavy)

6-Across the Universe

7-Let It Be

8-Eleanor Rigby

9-I Am the Walrus

10-Martha My Dear

11-The Long and Winding Road

12-Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

13-While My Guitar Gently Weeps

14-Strawberry Fields Forever

15-Fixing A Hole

16-Hello Goodbye

17-All My Loving

18-Dear Prudence

19-Here Comes the Sun

20-Come and Get It

21-Something

22-She’s Leaving Home

23-Here, There, Everywhere

24-Sexy Sadie

25-Julia

You're the birthday Cat!

2007-10-31T20:24:00.000-07:00

Well, it's Halloween, but it's also our cat's birthday. Little Schmaty, rescued from the brink of starvation (kinda), turns 2 years old today. Or thereabouts. When we found her, she was roughly 12 months old, and we found her right around Halloween. Considering her black and orange fur, I'd say Halloween is a good birthday for her. So, happy birthday little Schmaty. You got me to do something I said I would never do : own a cat. And it's been a good year. Here's to about 15-18 more, give or take.

Village on Fire

2007-10-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

This is a view of our apartment complex with the ominous fire smoke creeping around the buildings, as depicted in the L.A. Times.

Firestorm

2007-10-22T21:05:00.000-07:00

In just under two years of living here, this is my third or fourth large California fire. These things get more surreal with each passing event. This particular fire (the Orange County branch of a many-tiered assault on the California hills) is particularly heinous because it was started deliberately.

Apart from that, the striking feature of this fire is how close it is to Dara and I. This morning, Dara and I woke up and walked out onto the balcony, following a hint of smoke odor peeking from behind the balcony door. The smell that hit us was overwhelming. Ashes collected like snow on the hoods of cars. It's not difficult to understand why we saw so many people driving with masks and cloths over their faces.

The smoke-obscured sun was blazing crimson red through the clouds (if at all), and not until I escaped to the relative calm of North Orange County, did I get some respite from the stale, smokey air and the dark, repressive cloud. Poor Dara had to work in the smoke all day long. Fortunately, it's not as bad indoors. We've had some friends offer for us to stay with them (thanks Laird and Harrison!), but it looks like we won't have to evacuate... for now. I've been trying all night to get a good sense of where these fires are and where they're going, but the newspeople would rather wax on about the dangerous nature of fire than show us a useful
graphic depicting where the fires are. Certainly a strange night in Irvine.

There's no place they won't find you

2007-10-15T21:36:00.000-07:00

Today in the elevator up to our apartment, Dara and I--along with another passenger--were startled to hear the elevator emergency phone ringing. With no means of picking a receiver up, a voice appeared on the other line with a great new promotion from some company whose name I didn't bother to hear. I tried to interrupt the man's impassioned pitch, but telemarketers being what they are, he wouldn't stop for breath, so he didn't find out until we were leaving that he his pitch was being heard on the elevator intercom. There really is no place where the telemarketers won't try to find you.

Across the Universe in 131 minutes

2007-09-23T09:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I saw the movie Across the Universe with some friends. Having seen a trailer for the movie about six months ago--a Beatles-fueled anti-war movie set in the Veitnam era--I was very excited to see this movie. Unfortunately, I realized that even a little help from Lennon & McCartney and Co., is not enough to float a whole musical.

And that's what it is: a musical, which was a bit of a surprise to me. Being a fan of good musicals, and being a major fan of Beatles songs, I was still on board for what I was about to see. Unfortunately, the movie felt like a patchwork of music videos put together by UCLA film students; equal parts "Dreamgirls," "Born on the 4th of July," and "High School Musical."

The film's premise is clumsy and falls under the weight of its own aspirations. Jim Sturgess's Jude character has a distinctive McCartney-esque look to him, and hails from Liverpool. When Jude decides to cross the pond to find his war-vet father, he befriends Max, and falls in love with Max's sister, Lucy, who--after her first boyfriend is killed in Vietnam--becomes a fervent anti-war protestor. Along the way, this threesome pick up more friends, conscpicuously named Sadie, Prudence, JoJo, etc...., and the hits keep coming.

The movie has many interesting cameos, including Joe Cocker (raspy and awesome as ever, playing a bum and a pimp,) Bono (playing a guru LSD shaman character), and Salma Hayak as a sultry nurse easily stirring the Florence Nightingale effect in her patients. I lost my patience when Eddie Izzard appeared in a tired, trippy drug scene that just got weirder and weirder.

The imagery isn't subtle, including the most heavy-handed image of the movie: a host of soldiers carrying Lady Liberty during, arguably the best Beatles song ever, "She's So Heavy."

Don't get me wrong, the music is as awesome as Beatles songs are capable of, "She's So Heavy," being no exception. But if you want to get anything out of this movie, buy the soundtrack and stay at home. John may have said "All you need is Love," but this film proves that you may need a little bit more than that... at least if you want to get through a long film.

Life after Falkner

2007-09-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

My life is divided into two separate eras: life before Jellyfish and life after Jellyfish. Jellyfish is a band whose brief two-album career made waves in the music community of the early 90s. Quite apart from the grungy music of the time, Jellyfish's music was at once innovative, while paying unambiguous homage to classic groups like The Beatles, Queen, ELO, among others.

I'm not sure if this is a singular experience of mine, or if there are others like me, who find a great band which acts as a porthole to other great music. Jellyfish was my first great find; I felt like an archaeologist discovering an ancient burial ground of lost treasures. While only two albums deep, Jellyfish caused me to discover amazing artists such as Jason Falkner, Jon Brion, the Grays, Roger Joseph Manning Jr. and a host of other spin-offs and pairings. The two most significant off-shoots of Jellyfish in my personal history have been Jon Brion, whose considerable talent has received love on this blog before, and Jason Falkner.

Due to the infrequent nature of his touring schedule, I have not been able to witness the spectacle of the latter's brilliance. Until this Thursday, that is. And now when I describe my life, I may just be able to divide it into two distinct categories (quite apart from the above categories): life before Falkner, and life after Falkner.

Perhaps the significance of the event is somewhat exaggerated here, but he puts on an amazing show, despite playing almost entirely from a new album which no one on this continent has been able to legally purchase (until the night of his concert during which, I was sad to find out, every single copy of his disc was sold out before I ambled over and tried to buy a copy).

Despite the fact that I wasn't familiar with most of Jason's song's that night, his performance was stellar. His voice is flawless. Indeed, he has no problems singing in low ranges all night, and then dramatically soaring over our heads in a vocal manoeuvre that takes his songs to new heights. He is such a master of his craft that even a steady, pounding, simple rock riff on an A chord can be transformed into a dynamic delight. As a musician, I can appreciate his tone, his playing and his craftsmanship. As a lover of music, I can appreciate how great his songs are; the elegant melodies bouncing off the walls.

The night also had some peripheral fun: Alanis Morissette was sitting beside me the whole night. She was obviously trying to keep a low profile (we were both seated in the back), but I could see her giant teeth peeking behind her chestnut hair, which she draped in front of her like a veil. Although I'm not a fan of Alanis's later material, she clearly has good taste herself, as she seemed to enjoy Jason's music (at least from what I could tell).

Jason played a riveting set, almost two hours of new music, energetic rock, and delectable jams. He is, and shall remain, among my favourite artists.

Before I go, I will point out that the opening band, Castledoor, was a rare surprise in an opening band. Despite what you may guess from their less-than-stellar name, this six-piece band, comprised of drums, bass, guitarist, singer, and two keyboardist/singer/abstract instrumentalists kept me constantly guessing, while imbuing their songs with hooky melodies and catchy beats. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time with this group, and I can say without hyperbole (which I am prone to do) that this was the best surprise of an opening band I've ever witnessed. That not be saying much, but it is meant to. Readers are encouraged to check them out here.

Interview with Canada: ten questions.

2007-09-07T22:14:00.001-07:00

Hi Canada. Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to speak with us.

Canada: No problem. I wasn’t really doing anything anyway.

Q: So what have you been up to lately?

A: I’m working on a solo album. It’s sort of a mix between Joni Mitchell and Nickelback, with a little bit of jazz mixed in. Oh, and I’ve started my own clothing line. “Canad-uh Clothing,” as in, “duh, don’t you want to buy this?” It’s really avant-guard.

Q: Canada, everyone’s dying to know- what makes you so special?

A: If you don’t already know, I’m not going to tell you.

Q: Fair enough. If there was a war between Europe and the United States, which side would you fight with?

A: Hmmm, that’s a tough one. I’d probably wait and see what Australia did, then do the opposite.

Q: Boxers or briefs?

A: Commando a la Paris Hilton.

Q: Why do you like hockey so much?

A: Uh, I dunno. I guess hockey is my passion. That, and trading beaver pelts, while eating whale blubber in my igloo with your Mom.

Q: What’s a toque?
A: It’s the correct way to spell and write ‘beanie’ or wool hat.

Q: If I sew a Canadian flag on my backpack while traveling abroad, I am….

A: An imposter. Build up your own good will, asshole.

Q: If you could be any other country, what country would you be?
A: Burkina Faso. I don’t know why.

Q: What’s your least-favourite part of Canada?
A: My butt-hole (aka Windsor).

Q: Last question. Any hobbies?

A: Antagonizing America is kinda fun. But you gotta keep it within reason. America still owes me money after last Friday’s poker game.

20 Best band names:

2007-09-02T12:43:00.001-07:00

Below is a list of my favourite band names. This is not to be confused with my favourite bands, because there is rarely, if every, a correlation between talent and good band names. Case in point, The Beatles. Stupidest band name, possibly ever. There are some very good bands here, but a list of my favourite bands would include some very boring names (Jellyfish among them). So here it is, 20^th to first:

20) I Mother Earth

19) The Dead Kennedys

18) The Violet Burning

17) The Tragically Hip

16) Dogs Die in Hot Cars

15) The Mars Volta

14) Belle and Sebastian

13) Sneaker Pimps

12) …And You Will Know Us by Our Trail of Dead

11) Ned’s Atomic Dustbin

10) Deathcab for Cutie

9) Fountains of Wayne

8) The Polyphonic Spree

7) The Jesus and Mary Chain

6) Toad the Wet Sprocket

5) They might be giants

4) The Velvet underground

3) Guided by Voices

2) Joy Division

1) Depeche Mode -- A French prostitute? It just doesn't get any better than that!

A few notable runners-up:

A Cat Born In An Oven Isn't a Cake
Accidental Goat Sodomy
Adventures in Shrubbery
The Band Formerly Known As Sausage

Mott the Hoople

Dillinger Escape Plan

Apples in Stereo

I feel the earth move under my feet

2007-09-02T11:25:00.000-07:00

I've been living in California for almost two years now and, although I've slept through a few earthquakes, I have never actually felt one. Until this morning. About 17 miles east of our apartment, there was a 4.7 magnitude quake which shook our bed a little bit. Nothing too crazy, but I can finally say I've felt a quake.

Adventures in Dog-sitting

2007-09-01T13:33:00.000-07:00

This weekend, Dara and I had agreed to watch our friend, Hilary's, Dog (Ciera). Ciera is a big, cute, geriatric, golden retriever who has always been very friendly. We've watched her in the past (usually three walks a day), and we glad to do it again.

Unfortunately, we noticed first thing yesterday that Ciera seemed to be pretty sick. I won't get into the gritty details, but it starts with a D and ends with rrhea, which wasn't a good sign. This morning when we went to walk her, we noticed a minefield of poo-patties all over the livingroom carpet. Poo-patties and vomit and all kinds of fun things! So we took the dog to the vet, only to find out that she has pancreatitis, a possibly deadly inflammation of the pancreas. Fortunately for poor little Ciera, we got her to the vet in time. The vet told us that, if we hadn't, she probably would have died. Unfortunately, it means we have a little poop bomb on our hands for the weekend. Hopefully she'll feel better soon.

Michael Bubbles

2007-08-23T19:00:00.000-07:00

Last night I took Dara to see Michael Bublé at the Greek Theatre in L.A. Say what you want about Southern California or L.A., but there is nothing like seeing a live band play on a summer night in the Los Angeles hills, as the twilight bruises the night sky: blue, then purple, then black; the moon shining onto the heads of thousands of happy fans. If you can get over the claustrophobic parking situation, the Greek Theatre is a beautiful venue.

Last night carried a few pleasant surprises, the first one being the opening act: Jann Arden, a Canadian adult-contemporary favourite. Her music might seem like it’s for fathers who wear Hawaiin shirts, and mothers who wear mommy-jeans hiked up over the love-handles, but if you actually listen to her songwriting, it’s really quite good. She has a knack for melodies, and her voice is beautiful and melodious. Even in my heavy music days, I always appreciated her music. And having seen her play live three times now, I can say with some authority that her live show is entertaining. Jann always banters well with the audience, which is immediately disarming for a group of people who only perk up once they hear her only real hit, “Insensitive.” Oh yeah, I know that song. I thought Alanis Morrissette sang that, the people murmur throughout the audience. I was happy to see her come on stage, and sad to see this lovely Canadian leave. But there was still one more Canadian to wow this jaded L.A. audience.

Michael Bublé came on to thunderous, if somewhat reserved, applause. His dark, moody entrance belied his casual, easy-listening musical style. As the orchestral swells and David Copperfield lights beamed his name in and around the stage-- Michael Bublé, Michael Bublé!-- I thought for a moment that I might be watching an advanced screening of an epic Roman movie of battles and blood. Perhaps Gladiator II: Gladiator-er. Not so. Michael came out crooning with his near-perfect voice and casual swagger that reminded me of the 70-year-old men in the Viagra commercials.

I liked him instantly. His honey-coated voice picks up where Frank Sinatra left off, perfecting the lines and the soft melodies of the old standards, smoothing them out, and often inflating them to three times their natural size. These songs, which are meant to be heard on vinyl while sipping a cup of Campbell’s soup, translated perfectly into elegant anthems and boisterous, bubbly melodies in this amphitheatre setting.

But Michael isn’t just a crooner, dancing that Bill Cosby dance in a $5,000 suit that’s made to look like a $500 suit, and spouting clever quips with the audience; he’s a true performer, in the old sense of the word. In the Las Vegas circa 1960-1975 sense of the word.

Michael pushed the G-rated boundaries of his genre set by the old standards, and carried out a very entertaining show, which included teasing his band, several (staged?) moments where he was molested by adoring fans, and an earnest though thoroughly unconvincing attempt to prove to his audience that his music can be manly. He finished this diatribe with a hilariously tongue-in-cheek performance of Y.M.C.A. In short, his show was fun. Ultimately, when he sings “Feeling Good,” (a song made famous by Nina Simone and Sammy Davis Jr., and perfected in his version), you can’t help but get shivers. Maybe that doesn’t sound manly, I dunno. In any case, I gotta go: Y.M.C.A. just came up on my iPod and I have some dancing to do.

Can't sleep

2007-08-20T00:50:00.000-07:00

It's now about 1:00 am, and though I have to get up in five hours, I just can't sleep. Could be the movie we saw ("Superbad," the latest Judd Apatow offering), or the food I ate (a rushed chicken dinner for me), or the cat sleeping in between my legs so I can't move, or the weekend-long celebration of Dara's new job, starting with meals out and culminating in a too-expensive shopping spree, but probably it was the Coke. In any case, here I sit in the livingroom trying to make myself sleepy, but the only person falling asleep is you, dear reader. Perhaps I'll go look at my latest story and see what a few days of sitting has done to you. Nothing will make me sleepier than editing. So that's that. Good night and good luck.

Good things come...

2007-08-17T20:20:00.000-07:00

...to those who don't wait on their ass! Today my darling Dara got a job after weeks and weeks of intense searching, interviews, follow up, heartache and hoping. But she didn't get a job because she waited for it to come to her; she got it because she deserved it. Well done, Dara!

Short Story #1. Blog Post #200

2007-08-08T07:32:00.000-07:00

After getting up an hour early every day for the past two weeks to work on my writing, I've just completed the first draft of my first short story in this new whirwind of writing. Title: TBD. Quality: TBD. Word count: 8,422.

Scary legislation

2007-08-06T06:35:00.000-07:00

Two American pieces of legislation have recently been signed into law, and they scare the hell out of me:

While the Democratic-controlled congress was itching to get away for some vacation time, the Bush Administration was able to push its warrantless wiretapping laws into effect. The government is now able to listen in on phone conversations and emails without any accountability from congress, and scant judicial supervision.

Perhaps even more chillingly, several weeks ago, Bush issued a sweeping order banning the American people from protesting--in any form--against the Iraq war. Broadly written, and self-righteously titled "Block Property of Certain Persons who Threaten Stabilization Efforts in Iraq," the U.S. government is now allowed to freeze the assets of someone who has been deemed to fit into the above category.

While freedom of privacy is not a constitutionally protected right in the U.S., it is loosely upheld by the Supreme Court. In any case, with privacy and freedom of speech being tossed out the window by a government that is increasing its consolidation of power, all the while disconnecting further and further from a population it is losing favour with, one can only think how scary it all is.

Blogger's block

2007-08-05T22:41:00.000-07:00

My wife has been trying to encourage me to blog, owing to my rather infrequent postings lately. I haven't felt much like blogging lately, not because there's nothing to write about, but rather because I've been busy writing non-blog related material. In accordance with a promise I made myself, I've been getting up an hour early to do some writing, and I'm pretty excited about it. The past two weeks have been spent working on a short story, that has climbed to 30 pages and counting. I should be done my first draft early this week. It's no great masterpiece, but as Natalie Goldberg suggests, I'm "Writing Down the Bones." That is to say, I've been practicing; shaking off the rust from writing. As you can tell, I need to do a lot more shaking.

In any case, things have been going relatively well. Dara is still sans employment (a source of increasing frustration for her), but we've been keeping busy to try to pass the time. To save money, we've been eating at home a lot more (I'd say 94% of our meals), which has been difficult. It's also made us more creative. We've had pot roast, and even fondue. We've been entertaining ourselves on the cheap, which has included swimming in our beautiful pools, going to $7 movies (courtesy Irvine Company cheap movie tickets, and occasionally sticking around for a second movie) and renting.

So as you can see, there's not too much for me to write about these days. Pot roast doesn't make for exciting blogs. But maybe I'll have some stories to share soon enough.

Peace out.

Death Books

2007-07-24T22:10:00.000-07:00

Last week I read the books "A Spot of Bother," by Mark Haddon, and "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," the former of which features a protagonist who is afraid of death, the latter of which is all about death. I'm starting "The Lovely Bones" by Alice Sebold, which is the story about a girl who relates the story of her grisly murder. I guess I'm just in a dark mood. But while I wait for it to pass, a quick book review or two:

"A Spot of Bother," was definitely not a page-turner. Haddon ("The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time") is not skilled at narrative, though his observations on life makes this story of a very average British family surprisingly enjoyable. Haddon's perception is sharp and he surprises with his accurate measurements of life. This novel pulled me in in spite of myself. The characters start out flat and two-dimmensional, and Haddon inflates them almost to exploding at the end.

"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," is as removed from Haddon's book as possible. Rowling does have a skill for narrative, though her writing is often jejune, as she relies on sophomoric techniques (I believe I mentioned her prodigious use of adverbs, and her tendancy to hand-hold her audience). After all, Harry has grown with his audience, and we should be able to put 2+2 together by now. Still, Harry is a coming-of-age story, a mystery series, a fantasy book, a book about prejudice and choices. The characters are so close, they're like family. Which makes it all the more difficult when Rowling starts killing them off like the Zodiak killer. For her 17-year investment in this series, she really ended it in a serial-killer way. But as the book dwells on death, it is a fitting end. This book is the furthest departure from her usual formula, but fans won't mind the deviation. A worthy finish for an enjoyable escape of a book.

Deathly Hallows

2007-07-20T23:21:00.001-07:00

First off, let me start by saying I'm not a Harry Potter fan. Or I wasn't. Perhaps I took a highbrow (read: elitist) stance on the book, deeming the only worthy entry in the fantasy genre to be Tolkien and, perhaps, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. But not Harry Potter. I like Ondaatje, for heaven's sake! Kundera! The more I look back on it, the more I realize it really was elitism.

For starters, the foundation of my opinion on the books is based on my opinions about the movies, but that's never fair. I was also irritated that this little upstart novel from England would usurp another little upstart novel from England which, itself, was a literary phenomenon. Perhaps if Tolkien's book had been released today--in the age of cyber-technology--the word-of-mouth would have spread further and his books would have been more popular. Or, perhaps if technology in the mid-20th century was at contemporary levels (internet, email, etc...) the non-ADHD 50s generation would have been able to grasp the much denser material. Then again, maybe the technology would have caused attention spans to drop off much sooner. But that's a topic for another post. The point is, I was jealous of Rowling, and angry that she had dethroned Frodo.

So as the movies rolled by and I watched them, and sneered at the seemingly pasted-together story lines and hastily-organized characters, I shrugged with smug indignation at this bespectacled wizard as his book sales soared and soared.

But as countdown to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows starting reaching fever pitch, I noticed I was getting excited too. Why was I excited? I had never read a single book, and was proud of the fact. Surely, this book would come and go with little to no effect on my life and I could go on, reading Tolkien every autumn (with a little Dostoevsky thrown in for good measure), thank you very much. But as the deadline loomed, I found myself getting more and more excited.

Looking back, I probably wanted to be a part of a cultural phenomenon, the way children of the 70s must have felt when they lined up to watch Star Wars, or the way I might have felt in the 60s with a button proudly pinned to my chest that read, "Frodo lives." I missed the Beatles, and I saw The Matrix on a 13-inch television/vcr combo, which is not how that movie was intended, let me tell you. But here was a chance to be a part of a real cultural movement. These are the biggest selling books in history. I could join with 325 million people on July 21st, all reading together. So I decided to read it.

And you know what? They're not that bad. Rowling may be a big fan of adverbs, and I don't agree with all her literary choices, but she has a skill for narrative. The characters are three-dimmensional, they snap and sparkle and breath. I found myself caring about what went on in these silly books. And what had seemed like random storytelling in the movies--laying down train track minutes before the train arrives--I could see was artful planning from the very begginning. I could see Rowling's plan unfolding, not by accident, but very carefully, exactly how she would want. She is a master at the literary principle of Chekhov's gun (placing a gun in act one, which we forget about until act three), and I started guessing at her master plan, trying to fit the pieces of this mystery together.

As I read through the books, I realized I was running out of time. I made the decision to read these books at the end of May. By mid-July, I had only made it through two or three of the books, and Harry's story gets longer and longer in the telling. I went on vacation in Toronto and I knew I would have to finish Order of the Phoenix before I arrived back home if I were to have any hope of finishing the series in time for the July 21st release.

And so I did. And also Half-Blood Prince. And here I am, wristband in tow, ready to walk to the neighborhood Barnes & Noble and pick up my copy (the very first I've actually purchased, actually; the others being either borrowed, or library books, or audio CDs... I ingested them in a multitude of ways and venues). In ten minutes, the doors will open and the books will fly. Dorky little children, staying up way past their proper bedtimes, will excitedly read through as many pages as they can before sleep takes them. And I'll pick mine up, avoiding the little wizards running about, and I'll take it back to the warm light of my bedroom, and I'll find out where this rabbit hole ends up. And I'll share something with several million other people for just a few short hours.

Versus

2007-07-20T18:09:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since my last post. I've had stuff to write about, but no compunction to write it. I'm a fan of top-ten lists, so let's do a vs. list, which should be almost as fun. What's better...

Star Wars vs. Star Trek

This is hard. One has Chewy, and one has Captain Pickard. I mean, it's Pickard! (Unless you're talking the whole franchise, and then you have to include Shatner and Bakula... hmmm, this argument is getting stronger for Lucasland.) Still, Star Wars has Vader. He's a villain for the ages.

Winner: Star Wars

Jim Carrey vs. Mike Myers

Two impoverished, Canadian comedians (and would-be dramatic thespians) vying for our affections and our pocketbooks. Both have some hefty franchises under their belts, both dressed up as a children's icon (the Grinch and the Cat in the Hat, respectively). Austin Powers was a unique franchise, and very imaginative. Unfortunately, it introduced "yeah baby" into popular vernacular and that is unforgiveable. Also, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," is my favourite movie, so that gets you big points. Jim Carrey can definitely over-act, (Bruce Almighty, anyone?) but he shows he can be subtle too.

Winner: Jim Carrey

Harry Potter vs. Lord of the Rings

If this were a numbers game, despite Rings' prolific sales, Harry would be kicking Frodo's ass up and down Privet drive. But I think even J.K. Rowling would concede that Tolkien's work is subtler, richer and more artistically satisfying. Both are epic works; both fantastic, but as they say in Highlander, "there can be only one." And that is...

Winner: Lord of the Rings

Beatles vs. Rolling Stones

Please.

Winner: Beatles

John vs. Paul

This is so hard. I recently responded to an online questionnaire about this. In it, I realized that my three favourite Beatles songs are John's. Namely, "Happiness is a Warm Gun," "I Want You (She's so Heavy)," and "A Day in the Life." Brilliance. John can really hit them out of the park. But for Paul's sheer volume of brilliant, quirky, small songs (songs like "Martha My Dear," "Golden Slumbers," or "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window,") and his brilliant post-Beatles career, and because most people think that being moody, edgy, and shot dead makes you a better songwriter, the winner has to be....

Winner: Paul

England vs. U.S.A.

Here I'm talking about cultural contributions, both of which are significant. The two most important contributors to modern literature and music (props to Canada, the bastard child of both countries and home of many great authors and music!). This is, perhaps, the toughest one of all. After all, mention F. Scott Fitzgerald and Hemmingway all you want; England just has to say Shakespeare. Not enough? Try Chaucer. Dickens.... Okay, Britain has a centuries-long headstart against this upstart America. What about music. Well, you can champion The Beach Boys, The Doors and The Grateful Dead all you want, but England need only drop one band: The Beatles. That trumps nearly everything. To be fair, America holds its own with artists like Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan and many others. In fact, my two favourite artists (Jon Brion and Jellyfish, respectively) are both American. England would still win this one, me thinks, if it were left to music. Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, The Who, Queen, Radiohead, Coldplay... it goes on forever. But then we hit a brick wall: namely visual media. Namely TV and movies. The British have spawned a few good shows and movies, but let's be honest-- 97% of all good movies come from America. If they're not filmed there, they are written, directed, acted and produced by Americans. Spielberg alone wins the States a lot of points. Think of all the huge films: Citizen Kane, Godfather, Jaws, Star Wars... I could go on forever, and I didn't even get past the 70s. Taking this cultural side into consideration, the winner is...

Winner: Tie. You can't break that tie at all. I will say that when the two countries collaborate together, it can produce good results (see: "The Office"). Then again, not always (see: Iraq War).

This was more fun than a top-ten list. Maybe I'll do this more often. Feel free to vote yourselves. Do you agree with my votes, faithful readers?

Rank Hypocrasy

2007-07-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

This article, by Ron Fournier with the Associated Press, perfectly encapsulates my feelings on the Libby case, and its fallout:

Read it here:

http://apnews.myway.com/article/20070704/D8Q5QB900.html

...or here:

WASHINGTON (AP) - The hypocrisy is unpardonable. President Bush's decision to commute the sentence of a convicted liar brought out the worst in both parties and politics.

In keeping I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby out of jail, Bush defied his promise to hold wrongdoers accountable and undercut his 2000 campaign pledge to "restore honor and dignity" to the White House. And it might be a cynical first step toward issuing a full pardon at the conclusion of his term.

Democrats responded as if they don't live in glass houses, decrying corruption, favoritism and a lack of justice.

"This commutation sends the clear signal that in this administration, cronyism and ideology trump competence and justice," said Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York, a leading candidate for the Democratic presidential nomination.

It was a brazen statement from a woman entangled in many Clinton White House scandals, including the final one: On his last day in office, President Clinton granted 140 pardons and 36 commutations, many of them controversial.

One of those pardoned was Marc Rich, who had fled the country after being indicted for tax evasion and whose wife had donated more than $1 million to Democratic causes.

Clinton's half brother, Roger, who was convicted of distributing cocaine and lobbied the White House on behalf of others, also received a pardon.

Hillary Clinton's brother, Hugh Rodham, was paid tens of thousands of dollars in his successful bid to win pardons for a businessman under investigation for money laundering and a commutation for a convicted drug trafficker. Her other brother, Tony, lobbied successfully for clemency on behalf of a couple convicted of bank fraud.

It's hard to fathom that those pardons had absolutely nothing to do with cronyism or ideology, but Hillary Clinton defended them. She drew a distinction between her husband's pardons and Bush's commutation.

In an interview with The Associated Press, the senator said Bill Clinton's pardons were simply a routine exercise in the use of the pardon power, and none was aimed at protecting the Clinton presidency or legacy. "This," she said of the Libby commutation, "was clearly an effort to protect the White House."

Indeed, there is ample evidence that Libby's actions were fueled by animosity throughout the White House toward opponents of the president's push to war against Iraq.

But Hillary Clinton will have a hard time convincing most voters that her brother-in-law would have gotten a pardon in 2001 had his name been Smith. Or that Rich's pardon plea would have reached the president's desk had he not been a rich Mr. Rich.

The hypocrisy doesn't stop there.

Bush vowed at the start of the investigation to fire anybody involved in the leak of a CIA agent's identity, but one of the leakers, adviser Karl Rove, still works at the White House. Libby was allowed to keep his job until he was indicted for lying about his role.

The president said Libby's sentence was excessive. But the 2 1/2 years handed Libby was much like the sentences given others convicted in obstruction cases. Three of every four people convicted for obstruction of justice in federal court were sent to prison, for an average term of more than five years.

Want more hypocrisy? Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney praised the commutation for Libby, quite a departure for a guy who brags that he was the first Massachusetts governor to deny every request for a pardon or commutation. Romney even refused a pardon for an Iraq war veteran who, at age 13, was convicted of assault for shooting another boy in the arm with a BB gun.

What about all the Republican politicians who defied public sentiment and insisted that President Clinton be impeached for lying under oath about his affair with Monica Lewinsky? Many of them now minimize Libby's perjury.

What about all those Democrats who thought public shame was punishment enough for Clinton lying under oath, basically the position adopted today by Libby's supporters? Many of those Democrats now think Libby should go to jail for his perjury.

"There appears to be rank hypocrisy at work here on both sides of the political spectrum," said Joe Gaylord, a GOP consultant who worked for House Speaker Newt Gingrich during impeachment. "It causes Americans to shake their heads in disgust at the political system."

The Libby case followed the same pattern of hype and hypocrisy established during Clinton's impeachment scandal. It's as if we're all sentenced to relive the same sad scene:

A powerful man lies or otherwise does wrong.

He gets caught.

His enemies overreach in the name of justice.

His friends minimize the crime in pursuit of self-interest.

And the powerful man hires a lawyer.

Marc Rich had a high-priced attorney for his battles with the justice system. His name was Scooter Libby.

RON FOURNIER

---

Nous Sommes Arrivees

2007-07-04T22:05:00.000-07:00

We landed today after some pretty strong turbulence, though we were greeted fireworks which we watched from above as we landed at John Wayne Airport. We arrived 20 minutes ahead of schedule, our luggage was waiting for us right when we arrived, and we took a brief shuttle ride so we could come back and feed our cat. Besides the turbulence part, all in all, not a bad trip back.

Libby free, Liberty...?

2007-07-03T21:39:00.000-07:00

How many people out there are are defending Bush's recent commutation of Libby's prison sentence, I wonder, by decrying, "well, Clinton pardoned dozens of people right before he left office!" I wonder if that rhetoric would work if, after dropping a nuclear bomb on Hawaii, Kim Jong-Il declared, "well, Truman did it back in '45!" Defending the indefensable with the indefensible does not work. This administration's lack of respect for accountability, and its push for absolute power has moved beyond annoying. It's scary. Like, Third Reich scary. Maybe I'll get thrown in Gitmo just for saying that. We'll see: fittingly, I arrive in California on the fourth of July. See you then, California!

Happy Canada Day!

2007-07-01T21:55:00.000-07:00

Another quick post for you, folks. Today we, being Dara and I, celebrated Canada day with a relaxed but enjoyable visit with our friends Tom and Ang. We first got breakfast at Tim Horton's, then hung out at their place for a while, went to eat at "Lick's Burgers" (had the veggie burgers), saw the Michael Moore flick Sicko, went to a pub, grabbed some pizza, and then came home for some beers. Could it be any more Canadian than that?

As for hanging with Tom and Ang, we had a great time as always. We're never wanting for conversation when T&A are around.

As for Sicko, I must admit that I had no real desire to see the movie, American health care being a subject that hardly interests me, and has--until recently--been completely irrelevant to me. But as I watched the movie, I was moved by the tragic stories that unfolded throughought, and I reeled with remourse and disbelief as I watched people choose between attaching one severed finger or the other (both were too expensive), or a man dying with cancer (who has a perfect bone marrow doner match) succumb to his injuries because the insurance company found bone marrow surgery to be "experimental", or a woman whose child died needlessly because she had mistakenly taken her child to the wrong hospital, which would not cover treatment.

Before critics (not film critics, Michael Moore critics) eventually start poking holes in this film, I hope that many people will see it, so that it will underline the many injustices that occur on a daily basis and bring to light the conversation that people need to start having about this (and many other) issues. But before people start jabbing those holes in, I hope they will consider the basic premise of the movie; the parting shot from Michael Moore before the film ends: that--friends and enemies, alike--we are all in the same boat, and we need to look out for each other. Critics of Michael Moore are encouraged to watch the movie.

Oh, and happy Canada Day to you all.

Welcome back to the internet!

2007-06-30T21:47:00.001-07:00

After several days in an internet blackout, it feels good to be back online. Dara and I are in our eighth (I believe) day of our Canadian adventure and we're having a good time. We have also recently been slapped with some really bad news, but as it is Dara's news to give, I will let her blog on it (see her "a lot from a little" blog in my links section).

In the mean time, I will update my readers with the latest from the Toronto front in a brief, pictureless blog.

For starters, our flight to Toronto was okay. I had two Xanax pills in my system at the time, which did very little to quell my fear of flying. The stress of our day was heightened when we arrived at John Wayne Airport (good) to take our flight to Toronto, and were told we'd been diverted to LAX Airport (bad), where we would arrive in Toronto several hours later. The down side is that our ride on the other end had to wait for us, but we had a direct flight on an Air Canada plane, which was a lot more comfortable and enjoyable, if flying could ever be considered enjoyable.

Since arriving, we have been visiting a host of old friends and family, which has been great. It has been wonderful to see the city, and remark on the subtle changes here and there. The CN Tower is now illuminated; The Pickle Barrel changed their fries; there are a few more condos up, but for the most part, it's our old, beloved Toronto.

We've had several family reunions to attend, and I've been able to spend more than a few days with my family, which has been great. I was able to visit my sweet grandmother in the nursing home, while she lovingly mocked me because of my paunch (though I didn't mind pointing out that she'd gained a few pounds since last I saw her too). It's always hard to visit my Gram (who is in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's) because it's sad to see her so changed from where she was, and because I feel guilty that I can't see her more. Still, with my mother and sister (Ashley) in tow, it's nice to know that we brought her day a little ray of sunshine, even for a few minutes.

After visiting Gram, Mom needed a beer. If anyone knows my Mom, they know she doesn't drink beer. Ever. So we hurried to the nearest pub where we met my brothers Scott and Cat and had a few pints between us. It would have been nice to have my older sister Cherie here for this part, especially because Mom slammed back two pints' worth of beer in a short time. For a novice drinker of Mom's diminuitive height, this produced wonderfully hilarious results.

Besides my visits with my family (which have all been great) and with Dara's family (likewise), we have been able to squeak in some time with friends (again, great). My only drawback (besides the aforementioned really bad news which Dara will get to in time, I'm sure), is that I haven't had enough time to spend with everyone. For instance, I only got to see my Barrie friends for half a day each, and got even less time with my quirky, but still lovable brothers.

Still, despite the bad news, and the fact that the Pickle Barrel isn't quite as good as I remember it, it is really good to be home, to see family, and to take a break from the internet for a while.

More updates and pictures to follow.

Flight of the Conchords

2007-06-18T22:18:00.000-07:00

For my fellow HBO-ers out there, I have a recommendation to make, especially if you find yourself watching Entourage Sunday nights (which I don't). There is a(n) hilarious new series out titled Flight of the Conchords, which is based on the documentary of the same name by "New Zealand's [self-proclaimed] fourth most popular folk-parody duo," Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement.

The show is a strange mix of witty Kiwi deadpan dialogue and offbeat songs that declare,

"And when you're on the street,
depending on the street,
I'll be you are definitely in the top three/
good-looking girls on the street,
(depending on the street)."

The song continues,

"You're so beautiful, you could probably be a part-time model/
(but you'll probably have to keep your other job)."

The show is full of witty banter and crazy non-sequiturs, which won't put mainstream viewers off the way the strange song showcases might. But these might just be the funniest parts. This show is definitely worth your time, if you've got it.

Screw you, spell check: that's how you spell sequiturs!

What I've been up to

2007-06-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've blogged, but I've been busy with birthday parties, a friend's trip, and a trip to the desert (two of these three events were fun). Dara has been documenting the events on her blog. But I have to comment on some of the action myself, so here goes:

I got Dara this card for her birthday.

And here's why:

And we had fun times with our friends.

And then this "Scarface" moment happened (I'm sorry- I just had to).

And then Susan came.

Stay tuned for some Toronto pics soon!

Happy Birthday my Darling!

2007-06-09T23:33:00.000-07:00

Dara, you're now 26. I was 26 once, and it was a good age. The very last day of my 26th year, I got married to a pretty amazing person, and while I don't necessarily want that to happen, I hope you have an even more amazing 26th year than I did.

Some observations

2007-06-03T23:30:00.000-07:00

A few quick movie reviews I didn't have time to make while on vacation:

Pirates of the Caribbean is a terrible, meandering pile of crap. With the possible exception of Johnny Depp's performance, all of the likeable aspects of the first film--missing since the second movie--were completely absent here. The plot was over-wrought, folding in on itself, in a cerebral, lengthy film that was nowhere near as fun as the original. I'm just curious how a film that relies on the suspension of disbelief (pirate ghosts, Davey Jones, etc...), can still have me rolling my eyes thinking, "bull crap... that can't happen." Jerry Bruckheimer has created a monster.

Knocked Up:

This was a pleasant surprise from Judd Apatow, who is at the center of the vortex of that emerging genre of coming-of-age movies for people in their 20s and 30s. This movie featured all of the best qualities displayed in his earlier efford, "The 40-year-old Virgin," while tightening the balance between crude and sweet. With prosthetic vaginas and loads of swearing, it's a solid R movie, but with quick dialogue, oddly realistic situations, and an improvisational style which shows the actors having a great time (thus drawing in the audience to laugh even harder), this was the best comedy of the year. Judd Apatow is solidifying his presence in Hollywood, even without a chest waxing scene.

Also,

Rest in peace, mister Charles Nelson Reilly.

Also,

Amy Winehouse has an amazing voice. She's pretty gross, and her lyrics are stupid, but her voice is phenomenal.

Northern Cali trip

2007-06-03T23:28:00.000-07:00

The trip

So as the pictures below will attest, Dara and I took a brief jaunt up north to Napa Valley and San Francisco, respectively. The latter was a great opportunity to relax and tease our taste buds, while the latter was the perfect substitute for our yearly trips to New York. Here’s a brief rundown:

We arrived in Napa on Saturday afternoon, got settled in, and walked the downtown area. We stayed in a bed-and-breakfast called “1801 First,” which is a beautiful century building. I had never stayed at a b&b and wasn’t totally comfortable with the idea, but the hosts put us totally at ease and we had a good time. See the pics below for some views of the room. That first night, we walked the downtown streets, had some Italian (which was a little weak) and had a nice sleep.

The second day, we visited Domain Chandon vineyard and winery, which is known for their sparkling wines. We shot 100 barrel pics, tasted some tasty sparkling wines (which I usually don’t like), and drove home.

I can already see that this play-by-play is going to take too long, so here it is in point form:

-Then went home and had a nap.
-Then ate at a great little restaurant called “Brix,” where I tried halibut.
-Then had a couples’ massage, which was a first for me, but was very enjoyable. No, George, “it didn’t move.”
-Had a nice sleep.
-Woke up and went to Rutherford Hill Estates, to view the manmade caves and attend a tasting
-Drove to Sterling Vineyards to ride the cable car, taste the wine (bought a really nice malvasia bianca, which is possibly the best white wine I’ve ever tried).
-Drove to Calistoga, a boring little town.
-Ate at Graystone culinary school, which had tasty food and featured little viewing areas to watch the chefs.
-Slept somewhere in there.

Drove to San Francisco
-We stayed at the JW Marriott, in Union Square.
-Viewed several art galleries; had one art dealer try to sell us a $20,000 painting (which was beautiful. About $20k beautiful). She had us in there for over an hour.
-Ate at a nice meal at a place called Farallon, which had jellyfish up on the roof.
-Slept.
-Took a driving tour of the city, where we witnessed Frisco’s various sights and sounds (including Union Square, Haight-Ashbury, Twin Peaks, Golden Gate Park and Bridge, and many other icons of the city).
-After the tour, we met up with people we first met in Napa- a nice couple from L.A. We had dinner with them and had a great time. They’re from Pasadena, so we’ll be hanging with them in the future.
-Slept
-Woke up early to see Alkatraz, then took a tasting tour. The former tour was interesting and somewhat creepy, and the second tour was… well, it was the same. The tour guide looked like Bronson Pinchot, with no eyebrows and a keen ability to create awkward pauses. This tour was designed to show us some fine bay-area dining (specifically the north beach area), and we tried some premier coffee and truffles. We also visited a bakery, the smell of which is still swimming around my head (it was beautiful), a pastry bakery and some cafes. It was a strange tour, but it rounded out our trip in a nice way. Unfortunately, I got a bit of a burn on this day, got sick and went to bed.
-Ate some Italian food.
-Slept.
-Woke up and had a quick breakfast with the previously-mentioned friends we met in Napa. They’re a very sweet couple and we had a great time. It was a nice way to end our trip.
-We then drove home and met our very lonely cat.

San Francisco/Napa pics

2007-06-03T11:37:00.000-07:00

A series of firsts (pictures to follow)

2007-05-28T23:00:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up in my first bed-and-breakfast, visited my first winery, had my first proper wine tasting, had a nap (not a first), had some dinner (again…), then Dara and I retreated to our room to enjoy a couples’ massage. I was originally hesitant about my first massage, because I’m a shy guy and the thought of stripping down to the boxers in front of a stranger was strange. But I was surprisingly comfortable, and I’m having a great time with Dara as we celebrate our first anniversary. Now here’s to seconds.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six-hundred minutes

2007-05-21T21:04:00.000-07:00

Today is my 1-year anniversary with my beautiful, spunky wife Dara. I can't really get too into the details right now because blogging isn't a great expenditure of time when you've got a marriage to celebrate. But briefly:

-We woke up this morning and exchanged cards together, went to work, then came home for a quiet evening together. But I did manage to buy Dara a wedding cake, because she so loved ours last week. Included is a picture. Happy anniversary, beautiful wife of mine. 1 down, and many more to go- I'm looking forward to every single one of them.

Huffington Posters

2007-05-09T21:23:00.000-07:00

A couple of brilliant articles by Chris Kelly and John Ridley, respectively:

Medved Minute

Every time Michael Medved interprets a poll, a statistician dies.

Last week, a Rasmussen survey asked "Did Bush know about the 9/11 attacks in advance?" Sixty-five percent of Democrats said "no" or they didn't know. Which seems like a reasonable response to a dopey question about what's going on in someone else's mind.

35% said "yes." Or, as Medved pretends to read it:

"... A STUNNING 61% OF DEMOCRATS BELIEVED THAT THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES MAY WELL HAVE COLLABORATED IN THE MURDER OF 3,000 OF HIS FELLOW CITIZENS."

Let's set aside whether or not 61% of anything can be stunning. (Report card day must be a frightening time around the Medved house.) That's not what the survey said. Medved gets that number by adding the "yeses" (35%) and the "no opinions" (26%) together. (Just like I added the "no opinions" to the "nos" to get 65%.) In other words, a made-up non-quasi-plurality of Democrats don't not not think that the president didn't see 9/11 coming.

Or, in Medved World:

"CONSPIRACY THEORISTS, PARANOIDS AND AMERICA-HATING EXTREMISTS HAVE TAKEN OVER ONE OF OUR MAJOR POLITICAL PARTIES."

Three things:

1- 35% can't take over anything, unless Katherine Harris counts the votes.

2- The question on the poll is ambiguous. "Did Bush know about the 9/11 attacks in advance?" On August 6th, he was handed a report called "Bin Laden Determined To Strike in US." Does that count as knowing? Only if we're sure he can read.

3- I'm not convinced George Bush knows about the 9/11 attacks today. He's pretty insulated.

4- Michael Medved smells like urine.

Okay, that's four things. But honest men can disagree about matters of opinion. Like math.

-Chris Kelly

______

Stop the Presses: Al Sharpton's a Hatemongering Hypocrite

File this one under the heading THINGS WE ALREADY KNOW, right next to "water is wet" and "sunshine is warm." Al Sharpton is a hypocrite. And a hatemongering one at that.

When we were last visited by - or rather forced to endure - Reverend Al, he was once again snatching up the scepter of media-anointed spokesman for All Things Black.

It was the heady days of the Affair Imus. The women of the Rutgers B-ball team had the kink of their hair and the level of their sexuality called into question by the I-Man. Al, as Al is wont to do, took it upon himself to act without invitation and speak for those who were perfectly capable of speaking for themselves (for those keeping score, that's hypocrisy number one).

Toward the tail end of that TV news cycle whipped storm, when it was pointed out to Al that a variation of Imus's rant could be heard with an exponent in heavy rotation within a certain variety of rap music, Al promised to go at the extreme ends of the music business with the same camera-whoring zeal with which he attacked Imus.

On the 12th it will have been a month since Imus was dropped by CBS.

Though I make a point of closely following the news, I was apparently otherwise occupied during the ten minutes Al was flogging his big Anti-misogyny in Music Campaign.

Or so I thought.

As it turns out, it was Al who was otherwise occupied. Rather than take on misogyny, the man who decried there was no place in the culture for hateful language...well, he went out and fresh-brewed some hate talk of his own.

During a debate held Monday at the New York Public Library with atheist author Christopher Hitchens, Al assessed Mormon Mitt Romney's presidential bid thusly: "As for the one Mormon running for office, those who really believe in God will defeat him anyways, so don't worry about that; that's a temporary situation."

"Those who really believe in God."

Lemme be real clear about something. There are no tears shed in the Ridley household over the loss of Don Imus from waves of either radio or TV. However, "nappy headed 'hos" sounds nearly genteel in the echo chamber of Al's religious fanaticism.

But his faith-based bashing is only part one in Al's (current) hypocrisy double header. Al said something hurtful and bigoted, and the way to man up to his mistake is merely to apologize.

But to man up to something, ya gotta be a man.

From Al there was no apology. Only spin.

See, Al - according to Al - wasn't really talking about Romney when he used the phrase "the one Mormon running for office." Al was actually contrasting himself with Christopher Hitchens.

Interesting.

I spoke with Chris Hitchens when I was co-hosting the MSNBC morning news today (in Imus's old slot, I sweetly say). Though Hitchens could be confused for many things, as a devout atheist a Mormon ain't one of them.

Having dangled an excuse so ludicrous in an attempt to give himself cover, it was clearly time for a mea culpa from the Rev.

From Al there was no apology. Only more spin.

Version 2.0 of "what I meant to say" straight from Al: "What I said was that we would defeat him (Romney), meaning as a Republican."

Hmm. 'Cause, you didn't say Republican. You said Mormon. Mormon's what you said, and Mormon and Republican aren't trippingly close linguistically.

So, Al, you know; having tried twice to excuse the inexcusable, there is always, finally, a good old fashioned "my bad" to be given. Say, "I'm sorry," and be done with it.

For the record, what I won't be doing right now: holding my breath. My lung capacity could in no way preserve enough air to wait for an apology that must take its place in line behind the apology due from the Tawana Brawley affair. And from the "I regret" having said "If the Jews want to get it on, tell them to pin their yarmulkes back and come over to my house." And even that's back of the line from offering sorrow for referring to Jews as "diamond merchants."

More seriously, there are seven dead who still wait for an apology over Freddie's Fashion Mart and "white interlopers."

But you know what, Al? Forget it. Don't bother with any justifications. After the umpteenth cocktail of hate and hypocrisy you've served up, I would say to you exactly as you said to Don Imus: "What is any possible reason you could feel that this kind of statement could be just forgiven and overlooked?"

-John Ridley

And justice for all

2007-05-06T22:52:00.000-07:00

Regular readers of my blog may remember a post I made months ago when Martha Stewart was sentenced to prison. In it, I condemned the appetite for prison sentences--even in non-violent crimes--in the American justice system. I argued that Martha might better learn her lesson if you hit her where it hurts (and where she obviously places her value), which is in her pocketbook.

Now at the risk of being a hypocrite, and at the risk of betraying my utter contempt for this woman and people of her kind, let me say that I think Paris Hilton's recent prison sentence is just. You have to tailor the punishment to fit the crime, but also to fit the personality of the person being sentenced. Paris is leading the new wave of a pervasive culture of entitlement. Famous for being famous, she's prissy, bitchy, unattractive, and contributes nothing positive to this planet, while riding on her family legacy. While that alone shouldn't land her in the pokey, driving under the influence of alcohol with a total disregard for the laws of the nation, does. Locking Paris up, even for a short time, will send a message to her and her would-be followers, that they are not above the law. And that's hot.

Happy Birthday Emma!

2007-05-06T20:45:00.000-07:00

Today is my niece Emma's 5th birthday, so today Dara and I attended her backyard party/BBQ/bounce-house extraordinaire. Food came in the form of burgers and hot dogs and pink cake; entertainment was provided by the aforementioned bounce-house, and the company was provided by assorted friends and family and many little wee people running around. Also there was a strange princess lady running around which made things interesting, but the important thing is that Emma had a good birthday, which she seemed to do. Happy Birthday Emma!

And now for the rest of my weekend:

Last night Dara, Laird, Harrison and I made a futile attempt to see a Spider Man 3 matinee. When that inevitably failed, we went to La Fondue, a Melting Pot knock-off, which was actually much better the second visit. After that, we watched "The Queen" which, although it isn't really a Saturday night kind of movie, was quite entertaining. Much emphasis has been placed on Helen Mirren's breathtaking performance (rightfully so), but the story gave us a fly-on-the-wall glimpse into life in the House of Windsor, which is truly surreal. More interesting, still, was the juxtaposition between the modern lifestyle as seen in Tony Blaire (played with equal brilliance by the underrated Michael Sheen) versus the old traditions of the monarchy. It's too subtle to discuss here, but the movie is worth checking out on a relaxed night of movie watching.

Now it's back to work. Only one more week of Heritage Point's "Luxury Apartments."

The doctor's latest news

2007-05-03T21:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, so round two in the ongoing doctor saga (two more visits to go, at least). For anyone who cares and who isn't grossed out, the latest is:

-I lost 4 lbs since last week
-I'm actually 2 inches shorter than I thought I was
-The robes in the doctor's office don't cover you near as much as you'd like if the doctor accidentally leaves the door to the exam room open
-Still checking to see if I have that weird special hernia
-Oh, and the doctor thinks I have Diabetes Insipidus (which, if you look it up, doesn't quite have the teeth of type 2 diabetes or anything crazy like that. Also, doesn't seem like it's my lifestyle that brought this about. Just a liver that doesn't produce the proper AHA liquid-processors).

So I had to fast since dinner last night, then had to give blood, wee, and then went to work and was starving. Had to get food before I passed out. Had bad Thai food, but I didn't pass out, which is good.

This sunday, I have to produce a day's worth of wee, bring in said wee to the doctor on Monday, give more blood, and then wait for some guy in a lab coat to tell me what's wrong with my wee. And that's the doctor's latest news. Oh, and the doctor liked my tattoo. Stay tuned.

It all comes out in the wash

2007-05-02T23:44:00.000-07:00

Tonight was my last time doing laundry in a communal laundry facility... at least for one year. Dara and I have a regular routine of six loads of laundry every two weeks, and we'll have our own washer/dryer within two weeks. No more sweating and grunting, carrying two giant bags of laundry to the room; no more fumbling with a pre-paid card; no more paying for six dryers, and pulling out only five dry loads of laundry. Goodbye laundry room!

Lease

2007-04-28T21:50:00.000-07:00

Dara already chatted about our trip to see Rent, but it deserves a mention anyway. Larry and Cherie took us out to the OC Performing Arts Center for an early birthday present. This was my second time seeing the play (not counting the movie) and the touring cast did a great job. I could write so much more about this play, but it's such a dense, beautiful story that I don't want to lower it by this rushed blog. So I'll throw on a couple of pics and that'll be that.

Take two Xanax and call me in the morning

2007-04-25T22:18:00.000-07:00

Today I had my first doctor appointment in years, and I'll spare you the dirty details, but it looks like I have some work ahead of me. A small list of issues I must attend to:

-I may have an epigastric hernia, which could potentially require surgery.
-I may have diabetes.
-I may have high blood pressure and,
-I may be overweight.

Okay, those last two are closer to definitely than maybe, and I'm staring down the barrel of a battery of tests, but I'm optimistic that things will work out, and that this will be the motivation I need to change my life around. I said I wouldn't get into the gory details, but believe me, I haven't. You missed all the best parts. But after I go in for a more thorough check-up one week from today, I will give you a detailed play-by-play with medical charts and a rough video reenactment.

I addition to all these issues, I also had the kind doctor issue me a prescription to take the edge off of my anxiety when I fly. I'm not a fan of medicating one's problems away, but even knowing I have the bottle makes me fear my next trip a little less.

So how did I react to this news? Dara and I took a trip to Lucille's B-B-Q and I got me some BBQ chicken, with no fries and veggies. Not a bad start. Day two will be better, but as Jon Brion always sings, "you've gotta start somewhere."

Fab Faux

2007-04-21T09:45:00.000-07:00

Readers of my blog will know that I am a fan of top-ten lists and hypothetical questions. One of my favourite hypothecial questions has often been, "if you could see any inactive (ie defunct, dead or broken-up) band play live, who would it be?" My answer often changes, ranging from the unlikely (Jellyfish), to the impossible (The Beatles). At some points, certain bands on my list have re-grouped, which enabled me to fulfill my wish, as it so happened with Queen, just last year.

One of my favourite bands is this obscure group called The Beatles. You probably don't know their songs, but they were so complex that eventually The Beatles stopped performing them live. Then, with the death of two critical members, the dream of a Beatles reunion was dashed.

Last night, I got a glimpse of that dream through the music of a great tribute band, The Fab Faux. Comprised of high-profile musicians such as Will Lee of David Letterman fame, and Jimmy Vivino, famous as the guitarist with Conan O'Brien's band, this group has gained a quite a reputation for their flawless interpretation of the fab four's music.

Last night's interpretation was the White Album, performed in sequence. It was brilliant. Every nuance and note was given careful consideration, and this fabulous catelogue of music is in good hands here. Even obscure, bizarre tracks such as Revolution 9 were played with absolute perfection.

The testament to the songs' power was proven in the huge, enthusiastic crowd which sang along with glee. Decades after these songs were first recorded, they still sound incredible, especially in the adept hands of this band.

I've been to the House of Blues several times now, and I have never seen a crowd like this one. Scores of people wrapped around the building. Celebrities and non-industry people mingled together as fans, not of one band, but of a collection of songs. Old men were dancing freely and children bopped their heads with glee. It was an incredible evening.

____

Long side note:

As Canadians, Dara and I aren't used to the celebrity exposure you get from living in L.A. Last night we ran into several celebrities, some of whom you might recognize. For starters, we sat next to Gary Oldman, famous for disappearing inside his roles, as disparate as Sirius Black in the Harry Potter series, or Sid Viscious in the movie "Sid and Nancy." We caught up with him on the way out of the show and Dara told him he was awesome, to which he smiled.

We also met and briefly spoke with Sam Lloyd, who plays the inept lawyer on Scrubs. We saw Patrick Warburton, most famous as David Puddy on Seinfeld (Elaine's on-again-off-again, squinty-eyed boyfriend), who also plays Joe Swanson, from "Family Guy."

We also noticed Greg Kinnear, Gavin Rossdale, Greg Grunberg (the police office on "Heroes", who also starred in "Alias," "Felicity" and had a minor role in "Lost"). The celebrities put a colourful backdrop to the incredible music. Of course, they're just people, but it's fun to be able to express our appreciation for their art (like Dara telling Oldman he's awesome).

Have you seen my moleskin?

2007-04-20T18:26:00.000-07:00

I've been keeping extensive notes on quotations, song and story ideas, visuals and random ideas for as long as I can remember. Now I've lost my latest notepad, which has over a year of brilliance splattered all over it. I'm losing those ideas and I'm losing any other crap, er, brilliance which might fall into my lap. I need my moleskin!

Accidents will happen

2007-04-17T21:32:00.000-07:00

Today, while Dara and I were getting our mail, we heard a terrible screech and we waited for the inevitable thud. The sound was truly sickening and we ran towards the entrance of our apartment complex. Visitors of our apartment complex will tell you that leaving the Heritage Place "Luxury Apartment Homes" is a dangerous undertaking. The entrance to our parking area is on a fast road with a sharp bend. I take my life in my hands every time I leave the place. I'm not joking. Today's accident was the third accident I've seen at that entrance, and we haven't even lived here for a year.

Anyway, we ran towards the car and I had my phone in my hand as I dialed 911. I was shocked to find out that 911 had a touch-tone service. I had to listen to options and dial a number before I got to a person. When I got a person on the phone, we rounded the corner and finally had a visual for what was going on. There was a single pickup truck which had run into the entrance gates, and had just burst into flames while gawkers stupidly crowded around the truck. I screamed for everyone to get away while I spoke with the 911 operator. I was surprised how long it took for the fire department to arrive, considering how close the nearest fire station is.

The driver and passenger were out of the car, with the female passenger laying on the ground. The male driver ran away (ostensibly to his apartment to get something, but as we all know, you don't leave the scene of an accident).

We tried to stay to see if they would arrest the driver but we became impatient and left. Incidentally, the pictures I'm showing are from two different incidents where drivers crashed into our apartment (making this latest one at least the fourth time it has happened).

And that's my story.

New cable, new problems

2007-04-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

Cable guy was supposed to show up this morning. He showed up a bit late, but he was helpful and now we have Cox cable, HBO, and a PVR (or DVR, depending on where you're from). As for the internet, I've been on the phone with India for the past day trying to configure my wireless router with my new modem. The good news is, the new internet is fast. Bad news is, it was painfully slow to set up. I had some things I needed to do online this weekend, which I won't be able to any longer.

Also, we have an inebriated person driving (who will remain nameless) over to our house right now, which concerns me. I told him not to drive here, but you can't do much on the phone. So we're going to fetch him right now. Tsk, tsk, tsk....

Jellyfish tribute

2007-04-14T11:33:00.000-07:00

On the day which will be forever known (to me) as Kurt Vonnegut Day, my friend Tom Gale informed me that there is a tribute album to one of my all-time favourite bands: Jellyfish. When I was finally able to check out the album's website, I was a bit disappointed that I didn't recognize any of the bands paying tribute. While Jellyfish wasn't exactly a huge band, they weren't exactly toiling in obscurity, either. Their fanbase is still strong, and their influence can be seen in the "smart rock" of people like Ben Folds. So, why no big artists? Just smaller artists like "Gluttons of Sympathy" (a tribute band, if ever there was one), Mike Elgert, and a host of other unknowns.

The difficulty in paying tribute to a band whose songs and arrangements approach musical perfection is, how do you improve upon them? The answer is, you don't. But you can offer new interpretations which could open new doors to old songs we love so much. But hearing Readymade Breakup thrashing gems like "Joining a Fan Club," it's just not right. Here's who I would have recruited for the project if I was the producer:

Spilt Milk:

Hush- Imogen Heap. She has shown great talent at a cappella work.

Joining a Fan Club- Radiohead. Strange choice, but Paranoid taught us that these boys know bombast, as well as melodic beauty.

Sebrina, Paste and Plato- Tori Amos. Cornflake Girl has a similar strangeness and nostalgia as this Jellyfish classic. I think Tori would kick ass here.

New Mistake- Ben can't sing like Andy can (who can???), but he's got the energy and charisma that would be perfect for this song.

The Glutton of Sympathy- This is one example where I think Sarah could actually improve on the song, somewhat. This one always sounded just a teensy bit schmaltzy, which I think Sarah would fix.

The Ghost at Number One- Rooney is a great band that has the energy for this awesome song. They're not as talented as the Jellies, but they could make this song fun. Tough thing to do for an anti-religious song.

Bye, bye, bye- Counting Crows. If Adam could avoid his habit of constantly reinventing melodies, I think they might pull this one off.

All is Forgiven- Hawksley Workman. This is a bit of a tough one. Almost no one because Jellyfish themselves could actually pull this off live. Even so, I think Hawksley Workman has a great voice and could do something really interesting with this song.

Russian Hill- Deathcab for Cutie. This isn't my favourite song on the album, but it's still a great song. Deathcab all the way.

He's my Best Friend- Barenaked Ladies. The Ladies aren't my favourite band, but they proved their chops when the recorded "Brian Wilson" live. Great song. And who is better suited to do a masturabation song than the Barenaked Ladies?

Too Much, Too Little, Too Late- Sheryl Crow. She's already got a former Jellyfish member in her band. Naturally, she'd be good at this song.

Brighter Day- Muse(?) This is probably the hardest choice in the bunch. It's a strange, caleidescope of a song, yet still exciting. Muse could probably do something interesting and energetic. Barring that, you could do a crazy, double-time rendition with The Mars Volta. That'd be interesting.

Bellybutton:

The Man I Used to Be- Coldplay. I can just picture them playing this song.

That is Why- The Shins are fun and so is this song. They also have a keen eye for melody, and so does this song.

The King is Half Undressed- I think Better than Ezra would be perfect for this song. Their drummer is phenomenal, and the singer is great. They have just enough energy to pull this off, while still having a great sense of melody, developed from being avid Radiohead fans (which is obvious).

I Wanna Stay Home- Fiona Apple could do a cool piano thing here.

She Still Loves Him- Jet. Some of their material actually sounds Jellyfish-inspired, so they would be a natural fit for this song.

All I want is Everything- Crazy, double-time energy... Foo Fighters could probably pull this off. Not live, mind you, but they could pull it off.

Now She Knows She's Wrong- Aimee Mann. Just because I'd love to hear her sing the line, "He juggled his honesty with two balls and an alibi." Perfect line for Aimee.

Bedspring Kiss- Beck. The song has a mysterious latin feel to it that just screams Beck.

Baby's Coming Back- Keane. Just because.

Calling Sarah- The Killers. This is one of the best bridges that Jellyfish has ever written. It's awesome. I think The Killers could pull it off without screwing it up.

So that's it. That's who I would choose to honour these sacred songs. Perhaps you agree with me, perhaps you don't. Maybe you don't even know who Jellyfish is. If that's the case, why did you read this?

Bye bye bye

2007-04-14T11:29:00.000-07:00

Well, my parents were here and now they're safely at home in the freezing cold of Toronto. It was so great to see them, though--as usual--the trip seemed too short. We went to Vegas, ate out at restaurants, and went to the beach, which was all documented in our many pictures on the blog. I'd have to say my favourite part was just hanging out, no matter the setting, as if it's something we're about to do every day. I was very glad to see them, and sad to see them go. But now the count is on for my Canada trip in June/July. See you then, guys!

Ting-a-ling, Mr. Vonnegut.

2007-04-12T23:27:00.000-07:00

With the death of writing genius and cultural icon, Kurt Vonnegut, we lose not one, but two treasured authors: Kurt Vonnegut, and Kilgore Trout. Fans of Vonnegut’s work will no doubt be familiar with Trout, whose writing voice-steeped in science fiction tradition-is eerily similar to Vonnegut’s. But while Vonnegut’s work has become classic literature, and part of the secondary-school mandatory reading canon, Trout’s work is fodder for publishers’ rejection piles. In contrasting author and alter-ego, we catch a glimpse of KV’s chronic self-deprecation. (After all, he did rate Breakfast of Champions with a grade of “C”). His writing had many other idiosyncrasies which are now instantly recognizable to Kurt’s rabid fans (and I include myself in this group), which are being emulated-poorly and with less panache-by modern writers.

You could almost smell the Pall Malls in his books, as if he poured every bit of himself into each page. He was a true writing maven: genius that bordered on insanity. And I loved every minute of it. There’s nothing to say about Kurt Vonnegut’s life or his views on the world which can’t be expressed more succinctly, and with greater flair and acumen, than in his brilliant, and now finite catalogue of work. So it goes.