Monday, April 27, 2009
It's True, We Have a Car Now!
Well, I got the car dropped off to me on Thursday in Halifax. Took it for a little test spin and it seemed great! Friday afternoon I had the registration switched over and got a new license plate. I had to wait about an hour and a half, since every person in the city decided to register their motorcycles and campers on the same day. It was the Friday before what everyone was hoping would be the nicest weekend of the year so far. (Which it was, by the way!)
Andrew was nice enough to take the bus to Halifax after work so I would have company for my first trip home in the car. And I'm so glad he did that, because the drive was actually more nerve-wracking than I had anticipated. It was DARK on that highway, and to be honest I was never much of a highway driver. I did drive for 5 solid years back in the eighties, but even then it was mostly city driving. But we made it home in one piece. And then I had a beer.
On the weekend, we got the summer tires put on, and did a little exploring of the area. We went to Evangeline Beach which is in Grand Pré. Here are some pictures from that part of the day. The camera batteries died after that. Too bad! So beautiful!
The more I drive, the more I feel comfortable with it. But every time I look outside and see the car in the driveway, I think we have visitors!
BIG THANKS to Granny Gwen, Papa, and Rick for helping us make this happen!
-Ali
P.S. Here's a little number that was a hit around the first time I had my license! Seems to apply. Whoa.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wir Fahren, Fahren, Fahren
Well, not quite yet wir don't, but very, very soon! We've been looking seriously for a used car for awhile, and found one on Kijiji that sounded pretty good: a '96 Toyota Tercel 2-door sedan. It looks like the one in this picture. The mileage on it was low, it had been undercoated almost every year, it came with summer and winter tires, and it had only had one owner, who kept all the receipts from everything that had ever been done to it. We made an appointment to check it out in Bedford on Friday afternoon, but then Alison ended up having to work. Luckily my "Uncle" Rick, who knows lots about cars, came to the rescue by driving me out to see it and test drive it with me, since I don't have a license. The poor guy had just arrived back into town from Montreal; he came straight from the airport! Thanks a million, Uncle Rick.
The car was in really good shape — no rust on the body and a lot of new parts. The only thing Rick and I could find wrong was that the brakes acted shaky. We talked to the guy selling it and he agreed to have them fixed and the car inspected at no extra cost. Seemed too good to be true, so I gave him and the woman who actually owns it a deposit. We should be able to pick it up and pay the rest in the next day or two!
It's going to make such a huge difference in our lives, having a car, that I'm getting quite excited. I've never had a driver's license, but this will be a great incentive to get it. Last night I dreamed we were on a long road trip and didn't even know where we were going, but we didn't care. It was a nice dream, and even though we were on motorcycles, I'm sure it's still a good omen. The car (haven't given it a name yet; that will have to happen soon — Marcel?) has no CD player; just a cassette deck. I'm really glad I was so skeptical about CDs when they came out, and stubbornly continued to buy tapes for the next 15 years, because I've still got a decent collection. Now it's finally revealed why I've never replaced my copy of Autobahn that Loran Davis taped for me from vinyl (b/w Tangerine Dream's Le Parc) in 1987: soundtrack for the maiden voyage!
Other items:
I went to see John Ralston Saul speak about A Fair Country at King's College on Thursday night (which was how I happened to be in Halifax on Friday to check out the car) with our friend Mimi. He was somewhat flippant and scattershot in his arguments, and it forced me to realize there are certain unscholarly similarities in his writing style that bother me. I'm rethinking the theses of the book now. I guess it didn't help that he was also quite self-aggrandizing, telling many stories that were ostensibly evidence that his book has tapped into a collective unconscious, but whose point was always that people like him and think he's quite clever. One was even about him receiving a standing ovation at a previous speaking engagement, which story may weirdly have preëmpted a standing 'o' (usually Halifax's equivalent of polite applause) at the end of this night.
The Lodge played an in-store show at CD Plus on Saturday afternoon — International Record Store Day. It was fun, but Mike and I had both come down with terrible colds, so it was also kind of hard work. Plenty of people turned out, though, and we even sold some CDs. No thanks to this guy. But maybe some thanks to these guys.
Bonus rhyming update: I've written a new song. First one in I don't even want to think how long. Might be for The Lodge, or might be for me. We'll see.
- Andrew
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Never Go Full Retard
We watched Milk last night. Another Academy Award winner. This one I wasn't so excited over. Too long, for one thing. I was glad to find out the whole interesting and outrageous story, and to be reminded how far we've come in so short a time, but there's just something weird about these Hollywood re-enactments of history. I got the same feeling from Frost/Nixon. It's a little too easy to play up the plot points and emotions that will lead to a clean, satisfying conclusion, and the whole thing ends up seeming kind of cheesy. I'd rather see a documentary, I guess.
The other thing that's been bothering me all day about it is this heterosexual-actors-playing-homosexuals phenomenon. At first it seems like a really noble thing, and it makes you feel good to know that these actors are secure enough in themselves to portray a character from a maligned minority so that society might benefit by seeing itself a little better in that minority. But then, the more you think about it, the more condescending an attitude that seems — and condescending to the very minority supposedly being held up for empathy. Are we really as OK with these other people as we claim if we find the portrayal of one of them by one of us "brave"? Why exactly does it make it more poignant to have Sean Penn or Heath Ledger or Jake Gyllenhaal throw himself into the role of a struggling gay man, rather than to hire an actually gay actor?
Alison raises the point that the director and producers want to make a blockbuster movie that will reach lots of people, and that means they need a big-name actor, and there are (allegedly, Tom Cruise having still never officially come out) no gay big-name actors. But if that's a real Hollywood problem, aren't they just perpetuating it? Wouldn't it be better to hire someone who IS openly gay and make him into a big-name actor with their big film, thereby really doing some good for the cause they purport to be endorsing?
Imagine if someone tried to make a film about the civil rights movement in the sixties, with all the black characters played by white actors. That would be pretty questionable, right? Especially if they defended their choice by saying, "We wanted people to relate to the blacks as if they were actual people, and to give these white actors a chance to show just how bravely they support the African Americans' struggle. Plus, the film needed to make a lot of money, and black actors just don't draw the crowds."
Or imagine a film by Spike Lee about the plight of Jews throughout history, starring all black actors, in order to show the well-roundedness of his equal rights concerns. Or a biopic of Gloria Steinem with Vince Vaughn in the lead. Actually, both of those would probably be pretty interesting.
I guess there's a similar phenomenon with mentally challenged characters. And here one must invoke Tom Cruise again. These roles usually, as in Rain Man, get filled by actors with fully functioning brains, at least by the standards of popular culture. Yes, I know Tom Cruise was not the autistic one. And neither has he played a gay character yet. Now that WILL be interesting — it'll probably coincide with his divorce from Katie Holmes and immediately subsequent marriage to a Mesopotamian fertility goddess statue.
But back to retard roles. There's a very funny scene in Tropic Thunder where Robert Downey, Jr.'s character (who is, strangely enough, a celebrated white actor playing a black character in the film-within-a-film) tells Ben Stiller's character — a lesser actor who has been trying to break out of his action hero typecasting — why the latter's brave portrayal of a retarded boy in his last film did not win him the accolades he'd hoped for. It turns out there is an unwritten but universally known law in Hollywood that an actor must never play a mentally challenged part realistically enough that audience sympathy is lost. Something must always be held back, so that the character remains pathetic, but not alien. Stiller's character's big fault was that he "went full retard." And maybe casting a gay man as another gay man would be the same fatal mistake.
By the way, Tom Cruise is also in Tropic Thunder, and he's very funny, although neither retarded nor gay. His character, I mean.
Anyway, I just wanted to rant a little about that seeming injustice. Been kind of bugging me all day. And I'm not even gay, so that makes my concern extra valid!
- Andrew
The other thing that's been bothering me all day about it is this heterosexual-actors-playing-homosexuals phenomenon. At first it seems like a really noble thing, and it makes you feel good to know that these actors are secure enough in themselves to portray a character from a maligned minority so that society might benefit by seeing itself a little better in that minority. But then, the more you think about it, the more condescending an attitude that seems — and condescending to the very minority supposedly being held up for empathy. Are we really as OK with these other people as we claim if we find the portrayal of one of them by one of us "brave"? Why exactly does it make it more poignant to have Sean Penn or Heath Ledger or Jake Gyllenhaal throw himself into the role of a struggling gay man, rather than to hire an actually gay actor?
Alison raises the point that the director and producers want to make a blockbuster movie that will reach lots of people, and that means they need a big-name actor, and there are (allegedly, Tom Cruise having still never officially come out) no gay big-name actors. But if that's a real Hollywood problem, aren't they just perpetuating it? Wouldn't it be better to hire someone who IS openly gay and make him into a big-name actor with their big film, thereby really doing some good for the cause they purport to be endorsing?
Imagine if someone tried to make a film about the civil rights movement in the sixties, with all the black characters played by white actors. That would be pretty questionable, right? Especially if they defended their choice by saying, "We wanted people to relate to the blacks as if they were actual people, and to give these white actors a chance to show just how bravely they support the African Americans' struggle. Plus, the film needed to make a lot of money, and black actors just don't draw the crowds."
Or imagine a film by Spike Lee about the plight of Jews throughout history, starring all black actors, in order to show the well-roundedness of his equal rights concerns. Or a biopic of Gloria Steinem with Vince Vaughn in the lead. Actually, both of those would probably be pretty interesting.
I guess there's a similar phenomenon with mentally challenged characters. And here one must invoke Tom Cruise again. These roles usually, as in Rain Man, get filled by actors with fully functioning brains, at least by the standards of popular culture. Yes, I know Tom Cruise was not the autistic one. And neither has he played a gay character yet. Now that WILL be interesting — it'll probably coincide with his divorce from Katie Holmes and immediately subsequent marriage to a Mesopotamian fertility goddess statue.
But back to retard roles. There's a very funny scene in Tropic Thunder where Robert Downey, Jr.'s character (who is, strangely enough, a celebrated white actor playing a black character in the film-within-a-film) tells Ben Stiller's character — a lesser actor who has been trying to break out of his action hero typecasting — why the latter's brave portrayal of a retarded boy in his last film did not win him the accolades he'd hoped for. It turns out there is an unwritten but universally known law in Hollywood that an actor must never play a mentally challenged part realistically enough that audience sympathy is lost. Something must always be held back, so that the character remains pathetic, but not alien. Stiller's character's big fault was that he "went full retard." And maybe casting a gay man as another gay man would be the same fatal mistake.
By the way, Tom Cruise is also in Tropic Thunder, and he's very funny, although neither retarded nor gay. His character, I mean.
Anyway, I just wanted to rant a little about that seeming injustice. Been kind of bugging me all day. And I'm not even gay, so that makes my concern extra valid!
- Andrew
Monday, April 13, 2009
Looking for a really great documentary?
Man on Wire. I think it won an Academy Award. Deserves to have, if not. I remember this story being on the front page of the newspaper and it capturing my imagination at the time (1974), but then I don't think I've thought about it again since. Incredible footage and an expertly told story. It's beautiful and terrifying. Plus, the guy looks like Malcolm McDowell ca. O Lucky Man! Be careful, though: the added poignancy due to the fact that these buildings no longer exist may be just enough to make you a little weepy. Just a little.
- Andrew
Monday, April 06, 2009
Larkin x 2
Been rereading a bunch of Philip Larkin lately, in observance of National Poetry Month. Here's a poem of his that expresses the same idea mine was trying to, only much better.
Strangers
The eyes of strangers
Are cold as snowdrops,
Downcast, folded,
And seldom visited.
And strangers' acts
Cry but vaguely, drift
Across our attention's
Smoke-sieged afternoons.
And to live there, among strangers,
Calls for teashop behaviours:
Setting down the cup,
Leaving the right tip,
Keeping the soul unjostled,
The pocket unpicked,
The fancies lurid,
And the treasure buried.
And here's one about what my right-hand column playlist is about. This one kills me.
The Spirit Wooed
Once I believed in you,
And then you came,
Unquestionably new, as fame
Had said you were. But that was long ago.
You launched no argument,
Yet I obeyed,
Straightaway, the instrument you played
Distant down sidestreets, keeping different time,
And never questioned what
You fascinate
In me; if good or not, the state
You pressed towards. There was no need to know.
Grave pristine absolutes
Walked in my mind:
So that I was not mute, or blind,
As years before or since. My only crime
Was holding you too dear.
Was that the cause
You daily came less near — a pause
Longer than life, if you decide it so?
- Andrew
Strangers
The eyes of strangers
Are cold as snowdrops,
Downcast, folded,
And seldom visited.
And strangers' acts
Cry but vaguely, drift
Across our attention's
Smoke-sieged afternoons.
And to live there, among strangers,
Calls for teashop behaviours:
Setting down the cup,
Leaving the right tip,
Keeping the soul unjostled,
The pocket unpicked,
The fancies lurid,
And the treasure buried.
And here's one about what my right-hand column playlist is about. This one kills me.
The Spirit Wooed
Once I believed in you,
And then you came,
Unquestionably new, as fame
Had said you were. But that was long ago.
You launched no argument,
Yet I obeyed,
Straightaway, the instrument you played
Distant down sidestreets, keeping different time,
And never questioned what
You fascinate
In me; if good or not, the state
You pressed towards. There was no need to know.
Grave pristine absolutes
Walked in my mind:
So that I was not mute, or blind,
As years before or since. My only crime
Was holding you too dear.
Was that the cause
You daily came less near — a pause
Longer than life, if you decide it so?
- Andrew
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Underappreciated Beatles Songs
OK, there's some kind of weird Beatles thing going on today, where everywhere we go we keep hearing Beatles songs. Plus, yesterday I tried to make a playlist for the right-hand side of the blog comprising Beatles songs I like a lot but don't hear played very much, but iLike, where I usually make such playlists, doesn't have any Beatles songs on it (!!) so I had to make the bummer-of-a-theme one that's there now. But so the weird Beatles thing going on today made me determined to find a way of getting that playlist on here somehow. And I did. I'm sure it's totally illegal, and could be suddenly removed at any time. Enjoy.
- Andrew
- Andrew
Thursday, April 02, 2009
The Yoozh
No news here, really. The Lodge show went very well, and we sold some CDs. Still trying to figure out where, when, and with whom to have an official CD release show. The Super Friendz tribute album with my cover of "Fooled at First" is finished now. Sounds pretty good, from the one listen I've given it. On sale sometime this month.
Work continues steadily if not frantically with a shiny new chunk of Web site being delivered to internet fans on Monday (watch for it).
Frost/Nixon is a good but not great docudrama by Ron Howard. Frank Langella is of course highly watchable.
We have a line on a used car. Checking it out this weekend.
In honour of April being Poetry Month, here's a poem I wrote on my lunch hour today:
Roaming the streets of Wolfville,
I long for a familiar face.
This place is not my home and never will be.
Up and down the hill
That forms the village walks an alien race:
What doesn't make me stronger just may kill me.
Dramatic? OK, maybe a little.
- Andrew
Work continues steadily if not frantically with a shiny new chunk of Web site being delivered to internet fans on Monday (watch for it).
Frost/Nixon is a good but not great docudrama by Ron Howard. Frank Langella is of course highly watchable.
We have a line on a used car. Checking it out this weekend.
In honour of April being Poetry Month, here's a poem I wrote on my lunch hour today:
Roaming the streets of Wolfville,
I long for a familiar face.
This place is not my home and never will be.
Up and down the hill
That forms the village walks an alien race:
What doesn't make me stronger just may kill me.
Dramatic? OK, maybe a little.
- Andrew
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