I finally got to the end of that lengthy bit of Halipunk nostalgia. Whew! Of course, it keeps getting added to every day, so if I don't stay on top of it I'll quickly be behind again. But I think it's kind of jumped the shark at this point anyway. How many more stories can I read that go "Remember at that party at A's house when B did way too much C and broke his or her D trying to smash E? I wonder if he or she is still alive."? I will be listening to Steve and Lee Anne's memorial radio show, though.
Tonight Ali and I went out after work with our friend Meg and her sister Litsuko, who's visiting from Detroit. They wanted to hear some jazz so after eating we headed over to the SoHo Kitchen to check out the Chalmers Doane Trio (a quartet, oddly enough). I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, as I'm pretty picky when it comes to jazz, and after two Sunday Editions in a row where Michael Enright debated whether jazz stinks I'd kind of come to the conclusion that although there is some jazz I love, I definitely sympathise more with those on the stinking side of the argument. In fact, even typing the word "jazz" that many times is kind of making me nauseous. But so anyway, it ended up being a really nice time. The guys (and gal) playing were pretty old and obviously just in it for a good time. It was very lightweight, which could mean terrible, but it managed to find a small, enjoyable position for itself in a little known territory between unobtrusive background music and uninspired improv. Meaning that it didn't force itself on you, but if you chose to pay attention, there was something pleasant waiting to reward you. Maybe it was the ukulele; I don't know. They were just having such obvious fun, without being overly ostentatious about it. We happened to meet up with a friend of Meg's and Alison's from the community college and her amusingly ditzy British chum, all sat at one table, and had a real nice time. And when the band was through, Chalmers came over to our table and thanked us for coming out, which I thought was pretty classy.
- Andrew
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
How I Misspent My Adulthood Remembering How I Misspent My Youth
So, I was pretty much the entire weekend poring over this tome. It's a really really long thread on the Halifax Locals message board in which pretty much everyone who ever went to Backstreet Amusements video arcade in the late '80s reminisces about, well, pretty much whatever. Thanks a lot, Sandra. Highly entertaining, even though I don't even know who most of the people on it are. I was around just enough during that time and have met enough locals since then to make a complete reading absolutely necessary to quench my historical curiosity. Plus, new people keep showing up along the way, who then have to go through the oh-my-god-can-you-believe-this-thing-it's-so-great- remember-when routine. And then everyone else is happily surprised to hear from them. It's quite fascinating and heartwarming, actually. So really thanks a lot, Sandra, without the sarcasm this time. Now I just have to get through the last 25 pages.
Note to Dana: Someone mentions at one point Callah and Natalie, who were always together. Must be the same ones, right?
Note to Johanna: There's a very nice, not at all embarassing photo of you at some party on page 87.
In other news, we got a visit from our friend Matt today. He came down from Toronto for a very short vacation with Laura and to try and get some kind of intership somewhere in Halifax for the summer. So we got to have lunch with him at the Shoe Shop, which was really nice but way too short. It was great to catch up with him. Seems like J-school's treating him well and he's enjoying the big city. Too bad our waiter was sort of an inept bozo. After lunch I took him up to my office to show him around. Matt, not the inept waiter.
The weather was certainly colder over the weekend than it's been. On Sunday the wind was whipping so hard around our poor little rowhouse that we were sure it was going to smash in a back window and blow us right out the front. Neither one of us was feeling very well, but we finally agreed that it was about time to take the screen out of our bedroom window and put up the plastic that allows the room temperature to approach the thermometer setting. Once that had been done, we felt fully justified in getting back into bed and spending the rest of the morning with "The Sunday Edition". That Michael Enright was cracking me up. He has definitely grown on me. For a long time I thought he was a total boob, but now I realize that he just plays the fool in a really dry way for entertainment's sake, and to draw thoughtful, coherent responses out of his guests. Though sometimes I'm still not convinced he's putting it on. But at least it doesn't drive me crazy anymore. I like how he ends every episode by saying, "I'm Michael Enright?..."
Gotta hit the hay now. Well, after I read a couple more pages of the Backstreet Boys' (and Girls') Proustian recollections: A la recherche des quarts perdus — Book I: Clarke's Way.
- Andrew
Note to Dana: Someone mentions at one point Callah and Natalie, who were always together. Must be the same ones, right?
Note to Johanna: There's a very nice, not at all embarassing photo of you at some party on page 87.
In other news, we got a visit from our friend Matt today. He came down from Toronto for a very short vacation with Laura and to try and get some kind of intership somewhere in Halifax for the summer. So we got to have lunch with him at the Shoe Shop, which was really nice but way too short. It was great to catch up with him. Seems like J-school's treating him well and he's enjoying the big city. Too bad our waiter was sort of an inept bozo. After lunch I took him up to my office to show him around. Matt, not the inept waiter.
The weather was certainly colder over the weekend than it's been. On Sunday the wind was whipping so hard around our poor little rowhouse that we were sure it was going to smash in a back window and blow us right out the front. Neither one of us was feeling very well, but we finally agreed that it was about time to take the screen out of our bedroom window and put up the plastic that allows the room temperature to approach the thermometer setting. Once that had been done, we felt fully justified in getting back into bed and spending the rest of the morning with "The Sunday Edition". That Michael Enright was cracking me up. He has definitely grown on me. For a long time I thought he was a total boob, but now I realize that he just plays the fool in a really dry way for entertainment's sake, and to draw thoughtful, coherent responses out of his guests. Though sometimes I'm still not convinced he's putting it on. But at least it doesn't drive me crazy anymore. I like how he ends every episode by saying, "I'm Michael Enright?..."
Gotta hit the hay now. Well, after I read a couple more pages of the Backstreet Boys' (and Girls') Proustian recollections: A la recherche des quarts perdus — Book I: Clarke's Way.
- Andrew
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I got a real red wagon!
Last night for belated Valentine's Day we watched A Mighty Wind (again) and busted a gut over delicious Chinese food and a couple of beers. Fred Willard is the funniest unfunny guy ever!
- Andrew
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
The Aristocrats!
They were gone completely for awhile, but now they're back with new outfits on. You can't exactly tell from the photo, but the father is at least wearing pants this time. I'm not sure why the kids are still bare-bottomed. Cylindrica the cat doesn't mind, as long as she gets to sit on someone's lap.- Andrew
Monday, February 13, 2006
I Love Sundays
So, Ali got home from the photo shoot on Saturday, and she brought back a sample portrait. They were shooting kids and babies sitting at a table, and she was required to sit in for some lighting measurements:
The next day we got a dumpload of snow. We decided to venture out and get some movies so we could be entertained while the weather raged outside. It was kind of fun walking around in it, but I was glad to get back into the house, where I could warm up with a hot bath.
We got a really nice email from our friend Matt in Toronto, to which a response is forthcoming, listened to some Sunday Edition and some Sonic Youth (Washing Machine -- man, that last song is long!), and spent some quality time with the DVD player. Junebug - sentimental and surprisingly lacking in surprises, but pretty worthwhile; The Aristocrats - entertaining, for a completely juvenile documentary, but don't watch while eating dinner. Even managed to see a bit of the winter olympics. Snowboarding. Those guys are so not athletes -- just a bunch of stoners. But I enjoyed watching it. It's really weird hearing the commentators talk seriously about the boarders' "old-school stylee". REALLY weird. Almost as weird as Brian Williams repeatedly referring to the central area of the opening ceremonies as the "mosh pit".
The next day we got a dumpload of snow. We decided to venture out and get some movies so we could be entertained while the weather raged outside. It was kind of fun walking around in it, but I was glad to get back into the house, where I could warm up with a hot bath.
We got a really nice email from our friend Matt in Toronto, to which a response is forthcoming, listened to some Sunday Edition and some Sonic Youth (Washing Machine -- man, that last song is long!), and spent some quality time with the DVD player. Junebug - sentimental and surprisingly lacking in surprises, but pretty worthwhile; The Aristocrats - entertaining, for a completely juvenile documentary, but don't watch while eating dinner. Even managed to see a bit of the winter olympics. Snowboarding. Those guys are so not athletes -- just a bunch of stoners. But I enjoyed watching it. It's really weird hearing the commentators talk seriously about the boarders' "old-school stylee". REALLY weird. Almost as weird as Brian Williams repeatedly referring to the central area of the opening ceremonies as the "mosh pit".
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Stupid, stupid internet!
I put this post up around four days ago wherein I asked if anyone knew the origin of a certain saying, and I was wondering why no one had responded, then I realized yesterday that it had disappeared! Weird. It was definitely there before.
The saying is, "Know thyself, and to thine own heart be true." It just suddenly popped into my head the other day and struck me as incredibly wise. I like that you get the (fairly standard) advice to be true to yourself, or rather to that part of yourself to which it's particularly important to listen, but before even doing that you're advised to first know yourself. I think that's a step that a lot of people skip without realizing it. So anyway, DOES anyone know where it's from? I'd really like to see it in the original context. My admittedly lazy googling has turned up a lot of: 1) "some guy once said.." or 2) "As Shakespeare says..." (Through which character? In which play?), and that's only putting in one of the two connected clauses at a time. The entire quote has apparently only ever been written once on the internet. It's unattributed, and the writer in fact says, "At least I think that's how it goes. Email me if I'm wrong." Type it in quotation marks if you don't believe me.
In other news: I got a raise! My bosses finally gave me the review that I was supposed to have at the end of December, and gave me a raise that is retroactive from that date. Yeah! Free money!
Alison's been working a lot lately too, doing a lot of photo assisting, which she is in fact doing right now, on top of her work for the government, or "the glub glub gang," as we like to call them. So I guess we'll be smoking big cigars and taking limos everywhere for a little while.
Thumbsucker: see it! It never came here when it was in theatres, but it's finally out on DVD so we rented it, and I really really liked it. The main actor is great at being awkward. The director is Miranda July's boyfriend. So you know it's good. Even Keanu Reeves doesn't suck in it.
The Junos: I may be on them. They're here this year, and Buck 65 will be playing, and my services may be required. Maybe I shouldn't say anything in such a public forum, but what the hell. It looks fairly certain, though I've probably just jinxed it. I'll keep you posted.
Dream: I was reading the newspaper, and I could actually see and remember what the headline said. It was, "Royal Targets Empathy: Sentences Even Samosas." Doesn't that sound like a cryptic crossword clue?
Cold weather: sucks. But I shouldn't complain, 'cause we really haven't had much. But brrrrrr!
Ali's home now. Gotta go warm up.
- Andrew
P.S. Sorry no snaps or sounds. Gotta get out more.
The saying is, "Know thyself, and to thine own heart be true." It just suddenly popped into my head the other day and struck me as incredibly wise. I like that you get the (fairly standard) advice to be true to yourself, or rather to that part of yourself to which it's particularly important to listen, but before even doing that you're advised to first know yourself. I think that's a step that a lot of people skip without realizing it. So anyway, DOES anyone know where it's from? I'd really like to see it in the original context. My admittedly lazy googling has turned up a lot of: 1) "some guy once said.." or 2) "As Shakespeare says..." (Through which character? In which play?), and that's only putting in one of the two connected clauses at a time. The entire quote has apparently only ever been written once on the internet. It's unattributed, and the writer in fact says, "At least I think that's how it goes. Email me if I'm wrong." Type it in quotation marks if you don't believe me.
In other news: I got a raise! My bosses finally gave me the review that I was supposed to have at the end of December, and gave me a raise that is retroactive from that date. Yeah! Free money!
Alison's been working a lot lately too, doing a lot of photo assisting, which she is in fact doing right now, on top of her work for the government, or "the glub glub gang," as we like to call them. So I guess we'll be smoking big cigars and taking limos everywhere for a little while.
Thumbsucker: see it! It never came here when it was in theatres, but it's finally out on DVD so we rented it, and I really really liked it. The main actor is great at being awkward. The director is Miranda July's boyfriend. So you know it's good. Even Keanu Reeves doesn't suck in it.
The Junos: I may be on them. They're here this year, and Buck 65 will be playing, and my services may be required. Maybe I shouldn't say anything in such a public forum, but what the hell. It looks fairly certain, though I've probably just jinxed it. I'll keep you posted.
Dream: I was reading the newspaper, and I could actually see and remember what the headline said. It was, "Royal Targets Empathy: Sentences Even Samosas." Doesn't that sound like a cryptic crossword clue?
Cold weather: sucks. But I shouldn't complain, 'cause we really haven't had much. But brrrrrr!
Ali's home now. Gotta go warm up.
- Andrew
P.S. Sorry no snaps or sounds. Gotta get out more.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Weekend "Activity"
Yesterday Ali and I went to see The New World. It was pretty great, in the usual Terrence Malick style: slow-paced and meditative, hardly any plot, lots of being inside characters' heads to hear their most mystical thoughts, gorgeous majesty-of-nature shots between every scene change. Too bad it had to be Colin Farrell, but he did a reasonable job. We had to take a bus out to the big-box industrial park to see the movie and we somehow got on the wrong bus. Neither one of us really knows that end of town at all, so we didn't realize it was the wrong bus until we came back to the same mall for the third time. We had to get off and catch another bus, which we almost missed because it was confusingly called "Out of Service," and then the mob of people at the theatre nearly made us late. I'm not really sure what they were all there to see, but it certainly wasn't our movie.
When we got out of the film 2.5 hours later, the sun had just gone down and this really weird fog had settled everywhere. The giant yellow sulfur parking lot lights above it were creating purple haze without the drugs or feedback, and the sky was a brilliant indigo with a bright half moon right in the centre. It was really beautiful and Ali got a picture of it, but unfortunately it's analog on a roll of 36, so it won't be available for some time.
The bus home wasn't for another half hour or so, so we went into the Chapters across the lot and perused the mags. Alison found a decent photography one, and I was excited to discover Seed, my favourite magazine, which I thought had gone under since I hadn't seen an issue for about a year. It's a great science-for-people-who-have-a-working- knowledge-of-science-but-think-that-there-are-other-important-ways -of-looking-at-the-world-too publication, and this particular one has an article by Daniel Dennett, my favourite rationality-biased philosopher, who talks about the need for scientists to bring religion under the microscope. I guess it's taken from a new book of his which I will now have to track down. There's also a fascinating piece explaining how new brain cell growth has been related inversely to stress, meaning that people born into poverty and other hardships may be at an actual biological disadvantage.
So today is reading and crossword day. Next time I'll tell you about this great novel I finally allowed myself to start reading and now can't put down. Hint: it's not the Michael Crichton one about eco-terrorists that my boss loaned me.
- Andrew
When we got out of the film 2.5 hours later, the sun had just gone down and this really weird fog had settled everywhere. The giant yellow sulfur parking lot lights above it were creating purple haze without the drugs or feedback, and the sky was a brilliant indigo with a bright half moon right in the centre. It was really beautiful and Ali got a picture of it, but unfortunately it's analog on a roll of 36, so it won't be available for some time.
The bus home wasn't for another half hour or so, so we went into the Chapters across the lot and perused the mags. Alison found a decent photography one, and I was excited to discover Seed, my favourite magazine, which I thought had gone under since I hadn't seen an issue for about a year. It's a great science-for-people-who-have-a-working- knowledge-of-science-but-think-that-there-are-other-important-ways -of-looking-at-the-world-too publication, and this particular one has an article by Daniel Dennett, my favourite rationality-biased philosopher, who talks about the need for scientists to bring religion under the microscope. I guess it's taken from a new book of his which I will now have to track down. There's also a fascinating piece explaining how new brain cell growth has been related inversely to stress, meaning that people born into poverty and other hardships may be at an actual biological disadvantage.
So today is reading and crossword day. Next time I'll tell you about this great novel I finally allowed myself to start reading and now can't put down. Hint: it's not the Michael Crichton one about eco-terrorists that my boss loaned me.
- Andrew
Another Dream
I was at a bar having a drink with one of my bosses, who was sitting across from me. We were both in easy chairs, talking comfortably. My boss started getting more relaxed and took his shoes off. Then he started stretching his legs out while he was talking, so that one of his feet was pressing into my shin. Then he stretched out even further, until his entire foot was in my face, pressing my head back, his big toe poking into my eye. I finally had to say, "Could you at least wait until we're back in the office to do that?" Then I started laughing so hard at my own joke that I woke up.
- Andrew
- Andrew
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Good excuse for antisocial insularity this time.
[Paranoid by Black Sabbath was here, but I'm taking all the copyrighted material off our Castpost account in the hopes that it will work again. Wish me luck. 3/27/06]
I guess I've officially joined the iPod generation. I know it's just one more way we're all keeping each other from infiltrating our mental space. But here in Halifax, we're having one of those major snowstorms today, the kind where it looks like there's a real thick fog preventing you from seeing anything, and then when you finally catch a glimpse of something it's nothing but pure white anyway. I'm the only one at work right now because everyone figured it would be OK to come in late, but I had to get something over to the newspaper first thing. When you think of me walking the deserted blocks of biblical weather in my rubber boots, listening to this on my mp3 player and feeling like some kind of really tough pioneer, you can probably imagine the smile that wouldn't disappear even if I wanted it to. Check out that guitar solo where the melody is in one ear and the distortion in the other! Wow.
Then this Cuban guy, Isaac Oviedo, came on playing quiet tres guitar and singing croakily and it was somehow even better. There's something about Cuban music that always goes great with snowy Canadian winters. And not just in some ironic, juxtaposed way, either. It's like the relaxed polyrhythms perfectly match the rhythms of the snowflakes falling or something. If I live to be 200 I'll never even pretend to understand it.
- Andrew
I guess I've officially joined the iPod generation. I know it's just one more way we're all keeping each other from infiltrating our mental space. But here in Halifax, we're having one of those major snowstorms today, the kind where it looks like there's a real thick fog preventing you from seeing anything, and then when you finally catch a glimpse of something it's nothing but pure white anyway. I'm the only one at work right now because everyone figured it would be OK to come in late, but I had to get something over to the newspaper first thing. When you think of me walking the deserted blocks of biblical weather in my rubber boots, listening to this on my mp3 player and feeling like some kind of really tough pioneer, you can probably imagine the smile that wouldn't disappear even if I wanted it to. Check out that guitar solo where the melody is in one ear and the distortion in the other! Wow.
Then this Cuban guy, Isaac Oviedo, came on playing quiet tres guitar and singing croakily and it was somehow even better. There's something about Cuban music that always goes great with snowy Canadian winters. And not just in some ironic, juxtaposed way, either. It's like the relaxed polyrhythms perfectly match the rhythms of the snowflakes falling or something. If I live to be 200 I'll never even pretend to understand it.
- Andrew
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