The Blurst of Times

Writer

2012-01-09T18:48:00.000-08:00

I’ve decided to start writing again.

I pop my head up periodically to make that statement and then slink away quietly after a couple weeks of spinning my wheels.

I have the best of intentions but my follow through sucks. There’s an extensive laundry list of why my plan never sticks. I usually blame it on life getting busy and time being short, but really those are just handy excuses to explain my fear of failure.

I let myself put writing aside because after four years of studying all day and working all night I wanted to have a little fun. Then not writing because the status quo and I found other things to fill the time I used to devote to writing. Later on, when I tried to go back I started to second guess myself and fretted that I didn’t have the chops to be a writer. I was so rusty that when I compared my work to that of my colleagues and my friends I was painfully aware of its short comings.

I was held back by doubt.

I told myself that writing would always be there for me when I had the time to devote to it. Nearly ten years later I realize just how effectively I’ve been lying to myself, convincing my vanity that the fault for my lack of output lay in circumstances beyond my control, when really I should have been taking a closer look at myself.

After co-opting a fellow lapsed writer and printing off a copy of HEINLEIN’S RULES FOR WRITING, by way of Robert Sawyer, I’ve made a promise to myself write again.

But I’m going to let myself be a terrible writer first.

I’m going to clear the cobwebs out of my brain and let out a couple of the ideas that are rattling around inside of my thinking meats. And I’m going to finish them. Then, I’m going to forgive myself for writing them so badly.

After which I’m going to pick up my pen (laptop) and try again. I may find that I’m a poor writer, although I’m hoping to at least be able to achieve the dubious status of mediocre.

But the point is I’m going to follow through. And if I suck and fail, well, at least I’ll be able to say I tried. I’m not quite sure how that’s better than deluding myself into thinking I’m a great writer with poor time management skills but it is.

This is something I really want, and I finally realized that fact in time to put the work into it.

A Letter to My Daughter on the Occasion of her Second Birthday

2012-01-09T11:50:00.000-08:00

You have a personality now?! When did that happen?

Now granted, you’ve always had a personality, but it seems like every day you add a new range of expression and emotions. After a couple day’s at Nanna and Grandpa’s house you came back armed with a whole slew of new words. Before you used to be Claire the Baby, who did what she wanted and didn’t take shit from anyone. Now you’re Claire the Person, who does what she wants and still won’t take shit from anyone. The only difference is now you’re learning so quickly about what gets you results is that it’s hard to keep one step ahead of you, walking that tricky parental line that’s supposed to be about taking what you need and making it think it’s actually what you want.

Where do I start? There are so many milestones or moments of the past year that I’d love to immortalize, but every time I try to nail one down in my mind it slips away and sort of blurs into a larger, poorly defined memory that I simply call ‘Roo’.
There’s no mistaking that you’re a Mommy’s Girl. Daddy is definitely the runner up prize right now, even less if there happens to be a pet or a visiting family member in the room. You wipe off my kisses, spurn my hugs and angrily demand your mother take care of any and all tasks that involve you. Which is great when she’s in charge of reading stories before bedtime and somewhat less so she gets stuck with the shitty diapers.

I’ve read the books and I know it’s just a phase. And, I try really hard to pretend that it doesn’t bother me when you push me away, but it’s like a little kick or punch to the heart every time. I can see your teenage years now, armed with a whole arsenal of words that hurt the emotional wiliness to use them. That’s going to suck. (It also makes me wish I’d treated my own parents better during some of the more emotional times. But understanding is easier when you’ve got twenty years’ worth of hindsight on the subject).

Your hair is always a mess. Always. The back of your head looks like an angry birds nest all the time. No matter how often we come it out or try some magical hair product on it, it always looks like you’ve spend the last twenty minutes sitting outside in galeforce winds. Your mother used to say it was just because you a newborn and slept on your back, now I don’t think even she has any idea what’s going.

Speaking of which, your mother keeps insisting on cutting your bangs so your hair isn’t in your eyes. I’d prefer to just push your hair back in a clip, but since you can’t stand to have one in your hair cutting it back is just easier. Only your mom apparently can’t cut a straight line to save her life. Of the two times she’s trimmed your bangs this year I had to come in after the fact and fix it up. Not because I’m so kind aesthetical genius, but rather you get so excited whenever your mother is around that I think its hard for you to keep still.

Your memory is amazing. Many months after the fact you remember important details that even grownups would be hard pressed to remember. You recall the names of your great aunt’s lama (Migo and Nefi), the time you fell out of your high chair (bumpa head) and the name of the little girl who went to stopped going to daycare with you nearly a year ago. And yet you’re stunned that ever night is tooth brushing night, like it’s something you’ve never seen before. Talk about selective memory.

You are utterly fearless. Even now as you grow up and the idea of your actions having consequences start to seep in. You’re not afraid of the dark, after 5 minutes you completely lose any sense of stranger danger around new people (double edged sword that one, we’ll have to work on that) you love meeting new kids, new animals, playing around in new situations, jumping in a pool, or a boat or swimming in the lake. When I flip you around on my shoulders or slide with you across the wooden floor you’re always game for another round. “Again!” has been your favourite word for a long time now and is likely to be this way for quite some time to come.

We got to go out West in May to visit family and it was probably the worst family vacation we’ll ever have. At the very least I think it will set the standard for some time to come. We think you got sick in the hospital when you went with Mommy to see your cousin Ayla be born. The end result was a diarrhea and stomach bug that laid you (and everyone you came in contact with) out for a couple weeks. All we wanted to do was stay in bed and feel miserable but instead we had to attend family events and generally try to just tough it out. There were a couple bad nights there where you soiled everything you came in contact with and we had to use Great-Grandma’s washing machine at 3 in the morning to clean things up. As a group we were one sorry bunch. The only saving grace was that you were so worn out that you slept almost the entire flight from B.C. back to Ontario.

As always, I love you like the dickens. You’re just old enough now that all the sharp points of the hallucinogenic fever dream of your first crazy year are starting to get smoothed out. It’s less about looking after you these days and more about getting to know who you are. I’m really looking forward to talking and conversing and learning with you in the years ahead. (Not math though, never math, that’s your mother’s forte.) I’m excited to get to know you. And as we enter your terrible twos I’m proud as hell to know that you’re not going to go through life being anyone’s stepping stool.

Love,
Dad

The Trews - Tired Of Waiting

2011-04-28T06:12:00.000-07:00

Harvey Danger - Sad Sweetheart of the Rodeo

2011-03-21T10:50:00.000-07:00

Saying goodbye

2011-03-17T09:10:00.000-07:00

I was 13 when I learned that my grandmother wasn’t actually my grandmother, well, not by blood anyway.

As far as earth shattering news goes this was pretty much a non-event. What it did do was go a long way towards explaining some of the people who would periodically show up at family gatherings. And that picture on my mother’s night stand of the red headed woman, who I’d never actually met, suddenly made a lot more sense.

My grandmother died last Thursday of complications from a perforated bowel. Her health had been flagging in recent years and while everyone knew she was generally unwell the news that there was now some sort of ephemeral life clock counting down to zero was like a punch to the gut.

I’ve been fairly blessed in my life not to have had to truly experience the pain that the death of a loved one can bring. My great-grandmother died when I was very young and about 8 years ago my grandfather passed away. And that’s about it. In the grand scheme of things, those are pretty small numbers.

My grandmother could be a complicated, even prickly woman. As I grew older I was exposed more often to the tensions that came from joining two fully developed families into one. The melding wasn’t always harmonious. For reasons, never satisfactorily explained to me, my mother and uncles had been at times cool to this new woman in their father’s life.

And while the hatchet has been slowly buried over the years, in no small part to shelter us grandchildren, there was no doubting that my grandmother never forgot being slighted. And as the grandkids grew up into adult types in our own right the veneer of civility could sometimes wear a little thin. Holidays and special occasions would be notable by her absence as she chose to spend that time with her ‘other family’. And when she took my grandfather with her there would sometimes be hurt feelings and unhappiness.

In retrospect I think we were unfair to her. Now married, with a daughter of my own, I know full well how difficult it can be to please everyone when it comes to making the rounds on holidays. Some days it’s just impossible to please everyone.

But I never felt, not for an instant, that she was anything other than a loving grandmother.

I have so many great memories of her. So many stories of our time together that are mine alone to tell now. Like how, at four, when we went to Florida I picked up a dirty paper bag and couldn’t be made to let it go. Or when, at University, she’d take me out to lunch and wrap up the bread on the table in a napkin (and whatever condiments that weren’t nailed down) and stuff them in her purse to give to me in the car. (I was clearly a starving student who needed the food.)

Whenever she visited it was my job to keep her entertained. That usually meant endless games of cribbage until dinner was ready. Whenever we counted up our points at the end of each hand she always seemed to find one or two that I’d missed. She always told me that the little old ladies she normally played with would have eaten me alive if I played like that with them.

Nana died about a week after her initial diagnosis. I managed to see her twice in that time. On her deathbed she taught me that even when the end is near we’re still the same beautifully flawed and wonderfully generous people we’ve always been. She was just as fierce and strong on that hospital bed as I have ever seen her. And I am eternally grateful I had the opportunity to say good bye and let her know just how much I loved her.

At the funeral the tears and laughter of those who loved her was as fitting a tribute as any words I could ever string together. The joy and sorrow managed to bring two families together in a way we’ve never managed before.

Nana loved, laughed, fought, cried and was loved in return. That’s a life well lived and a legacy I plan to carry with me.

Bad Wine and Lemon Cake by Amanda Palmer

2011-03-03T12:59:00.001-08:00

A letter to my daughter on the occasion of her first birthday

2010-12-21T11:32:00.000-08:00

The inspiration to write this note to you came about in a very un-inspiring way. I was leaning over your crib, a little after midnight, trying to see if I could get a whiff of that tell tale scent that would let me know if you needed a diaper change. (You’d been sporting a bit of a diaper rash lately and the last thing I wanted was for you to be sleeping in a dirty diaper.)

Thankfully I came up empty handed. But before I left the room I took a moment to watch you as you slept, (creepy I know), and I couldn’t help but think that it was going to be a real shame that some day I was going to forget all about this moment.

There wasn’t anything particularly memorable about the scene. It was the same kind of thing I’ve been doing for a few months now and it had simply become part of my nightly routine before bed. All in all, it was a small, perfectly forgettable situation but for whatever reason the emotional ups and downs of the previous year crept up on me and I knew that it was important that I get this all out now before the feeling passed.

When we first found out we were pregnant we got a lot of advice from friends who suggested that we take advantage of these last child free moments to live life to the fullest. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. We had to spend our time selling our condo downtown and looking for a new house. And when we did move we had a lot of work to do getting the house fixed up in preparation for your arrival. It was a very busy time and I don’t think either one of us ever felt like we had a moment to just sit back and appreciate what was about to happen.

You showed up late.

We had to wait a week after your expected due date to see you. The days seemed to pass so slowly. With the growing anticipation it was a bit like waiting for Christmas, only you didn’t know the date Christmas was going to come. It could be three hours or three days from now.

I was at work when I got the call and I rushed home. Your mother picked me up at the train station and I drove us to the doctor’s office. After a quick discussion the doctor decided it was time for you to join us. We rushed to the hospital. Your grandparents and your aunts came and everyone was very excited. Pretty soon they had to leave the room though; you were coming faster than the doctor expected.

I remember the delivery room was very crowded. It was my job to brace your mother’s leg and count down how long she should push for. I was so nervous and excited I kept speeding up the count and the doctor had to tell me to slow down. But your mom was such a greater pusher, ask anyone, that the whole thing was over very fast.

I remember seeing your head. Your eyes popped open and you were looking around, angry at something it seemed. Then you opened your mouth and started screaming. (You didn’t stop crying for another twelve hours.) As the doctor passed you to your mother I shouted, “it’s a girl, a girl!”

Its impossible for me to describe what it felt like to see you for the first time. I was lightheaded and my knees seemed about to give away on me. I remember leaving the room briefly to tell everyone that you had arrived and feeling like my heart was to big for my chest.

I fell in love with you the very first time I saw you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt love erupt out of nothing to instantly become a raging bonfire. The transformation to crazily overprotective father was nearly instantaneous.

But there were some low times as well. The first few months were very trying. You weren’t a big fan of eating and you hated sleeping even more. And you cried, you cried all the time. I used to come home from work and strap you into the Baby Bjorn, walking up and down the hall with you for hours and hours. Sometimes I’d sing, sometimes I’d hum and sometimes I was even successful at getting you to sleep. But mostly we all just tried to tough it out.

You mother and I were often delirious from a lack of sleep. Some nights your mom would go to sleep at 7 or 8 o’clock, just so she could rest for a few hours before I would try to come to bed at midnight or so.

We were pushed as close to the edge as I think two people can go. But somehow we managed to get through it. A good thing too, because I would have missed so many wonderful things.

One of the qualities that I love most about you is that you’re a fighter which, considering your parentage, means you come by it honestly. The same drive that makes you fight sleep or refuse to be held, because being held means sitting still and that’s NO GOOD, is utterly captivating. There’s a fire in your belly, one that’s going to cause me no end of grief when you get older.

I watched you struggle for days to roll over on to your belly and the second you mastered the technique it was like you born to roll your entire life. The next thing I know you’re doing your best impression of the log driver’s waltz and bumping into walls and furniture because you just couldn’t remain still. The same was true when you learnt to crawl. You used to drag yourself along by your hands, legs dangling limply behind you, in some kind of bizarre dead man’s crawl because you just couldn’t wait long enough for the rest of you to figure it all out.

And now you’re walking, which adds another chaotic dimension to everything. If want something you don’t have to wait for one of us to bring it to you anymore, you can go and track it down by yourself. And that means climbing up stairs, climbing down stairs, emptying shelves and boxes, doing endless laps around the kitchen island and terrorizing the poor cat who has suddenly discovered he really isn’t safe anywhere now.

And its all fascinating to watch.

There isn’t enough time. Each day you seem to grow up a little more. Every day you’re a whole new person and the little bits of time I get with you here and there are never enough. You’re barely a year old and I’m already lamenting, not-so-quietly to myself, that everything is happening too fast.

There are a lot of milestones in the days ahead of us, ones that I know you’ll hurdle past with barely a thought. But to me those occasions are moments in time that I will hold onto for years to come.

I hope one day you’ll read this letter and we can sit around and talk about what you were like when you were a baby. And I hope that when that happens you’ll have a story or two of your own about the things you remember growing up. And maybe, if I’m really lucky, it will jog my memory and I’ll recall some of those small, not-so-important moments that end up meaning so much. But that’s a story for later. Today I’m just looking forward to going home and seeing the smile that lights up your face when I walk through the door. Right now, that’s all the pick me up I need.

Enter Sandman

2010-05-25T12:07:00.000-07:00

Of the countless new things that I have learnt since I became a father the most important one of all deals with the importance of sleep.

Not since my University days have I had to function with the absolute minimum of soul restoring z’s. And even then, I can recall more than one project gleefully binned in the pursuit of a good night’s rest.

These days, fatherhood has become synonymous to me with the mind numbing fog that clouds your every waking moment.

The little sleep I do manage to glom onto is often fitful and frequently interrupted.

The irony here is that there are three people living in the house, all of us dying for a little rest and not one of us seems to get a wink.

My daughter is a fighter, which fills me with hope and dread. (I can just imagine what her teenage years will be like. No stranger myself to going a couple of rounds with the ‘rents for no good reason I can already foresee the ‘take no prisoners’ battles that await me in a dozen years or so.)

In the meantime it would serve her well to pick her battles a little better and give the sandman a pass every now and then.

Ever spent two hours struggling to get a baby down for a twenty minute nap? Hardly seems worth it, don’t it? And why don’t babies get calm, rationally presented arguments? I mean, I’m pretty sure what I’m saying makes perfect sense. I know I’m convinced

What’s really sad though is how the exhaustion and lack of sleep can really destroy any of the fun associated with being a new parent.

It’s not about cooing and cuddling your baby anymore. It’s about struggling to keep your sanity despite the endless crying, the lurching from feeding to feeding and those little moments of insanity where sleep deprivation crawls into your mind and makes you do funny things.

I remember one hellish night where my daughter refused to sleep and let us know, loudly, about her thoughts on the issue. My wife and I would tag each other out every hour or so, but our spirits were slowly being eroded by our fatigue and our complete inability to do anything about the situation.

Thankfully we’re starting to leave that kind of stuff behind us now. Time is already glossing over the worst experiences. But as I mainline my fourth cup of coffee for the day I realize just how much further we have yet to travel.

Baby steps

2010-05-10T17:08:00.000-07:00

Today my daughter managed to wedge her foot in her mouth and suck on her toes for the first time. Its fascinating to watch her as she lurches her way from achievement to achievement. A week ago she couldn't roll on to her stomach and now we can't be more than an arms length away from her because there's a very real danger she could roll clear across the floor in pursuit of her favourite toy or the unsuspecting cat.

In a very small way I get to relive some of my own childhood with her. I've experienced more than one pang of jealousy by her ability to lose herself in the pursuit of little things, like trying to fit a chew toy in her mouth or the unbridled joy that lights up her face when her grandparents start cooing or clucking at her.

I still haven't adjusted to being a parent yet. At times I still chafe about how its impossible to go to the movies on a whim, or how scheduling extracurricular activities now has to be coordinated around feedings or nap times. I'm still struggling with the remnants of how things 'used to be'. But its amazing how much of a pick-me-up I get when I walk in the front door and her face splits into a big toothless grin when she sees me.

Bell Fail

2009-10-02T14:01:00.000-07:00

I have a better reason than most people to defend Bell Canada when it comes to their disinterested customer service, bumbling administrative practices, non-existent communication between departments (Phone, Internet, TV) and overall shoddy service.

Growing up, Bell helped put food on our table, so I’ve always been inclined to cut them a little slack and treat their seemingly inevitable mistakes like you would the cherished family pet that’s grown a little long in the tooth.

Shucks, so what if Spot just piddled all over the floor, remember when he was a puppy and used to sleep at the foot of your bed? Gosh, that was cute.

S has had so many problems with Bell over the years that she flat out refuses to deal with them anymore. If it was up to her we would have switched all our services over to Rogers years ago.

It’s only out of my misplaced sense of loyalty that we have stuck with Bell after their many, many screw ups.

And it’s not just S. I’ve never met anyone with something good to say about Bell. So for years I have stood up for the company, despite the horror stories from my friends and my own less than stellar experiences with the company.

I justified my actions by fooling myself into thinking that all big telecom companies must have these kinds of problems. Otherwise customers, fed up with being treated like nuisances instead of assets, would simply have defected en masse to another company, right?

Wrong.

It’s time to realize that despite all the warm fuzzy memories you might have of Spot that your house smells like piss and your carpets are ruined.

Its time to say goodbye to Bell Canada.

Now it’s important to mention that I don’t have anything bad to say about most of the individuals I’ve dealt with at Bell. For the most part they are helpful, pleasant people simply trying to do their job from within the confines of a bloated bureaucracy.

It’s not the customer service reps that are the problem, it’s the god damn customer service.

This story deals with the trials and many tribulations I had dealing with Bell Canada and their inability to move my current services to a new address.

I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to condense 15plus phone calls into an easily understood narrative. What started out as a simple move order quickly descended into series of marathon phone calls; in which if I wasn’t correcting some error they made (with steadily eroding patience), it was listening to their eternals sales pitches and snippets of elevator music while languishing in the infernal limbo known as ‘being on hold.’

Timeline of events.

1. Call Bell a month before the move to arrange the moving our home phone, internet and televisions services.

Snag #1: We want to keep our old phone number when we move to our new address, which apparently is some bureaucratic nightmare on their end that necessitates Bell calling us back to inform us if such an outlandish request can even be processed. Said call never comes.

Snag #2: Our television and internet service is currently run off the same box, Bell ExpressVu for condos. When we move to the new house these services will need to be split off from each other. From here on in, the TV will run off a PVR receiver and the internet will run off a modem. Never again shall these two services be joined in holy matrimony. This is less of a snag and more of a bureaucratic knot that needs to be untangled.

Snag #3: We need to cancel our television service outright and sign up again from scratch. This is because Bell ExpressVu for condos clearly doesn’t service homes and therefore we need to set up a new account if we want television service. Only, I’m not authorized to cancel our television account. Despite the television being in my name for the last two years and despite the fact that my name is on the bill every month I’m not authorized to close the account. No, because my wife made the initial call two years ago only she has the power to close the account.

And my wife doesn’t talk to Bell anymore, not after five straight months of consistently overcharging us, telling us the error had been noted in the computer and that the oversight would be corrected on the next bill. At which point dealing with Bell became my exclusive responsibility.

2. S calls Bell to cancel television service.

3. I call Bell to set up installation of new television service. At this point I think I should mention that when I call Bell it’s never me dealing with one person. No, I have to be shuttled to every individual department (Phone, Internet, TV) whereupon I’m expected to tell each Customer Service Rep my story from beginning to end, from who I am, to what I want and to when I want it.

And after every conversation I get the rep to repeat back to me what it is the conversation has been about and to confirm the particulars of the move order.

4. I call Bell back to confirm that we can port our number over to the new house. The customer service confirms that this is possible. I double check the details of our move order (with all the various departments) and sit back, secure in the knowledge that nothing can possibly go wrong.

5. A week later, when scanning my credit card bill, I notice Bell has charged me twice for the PVR I ordered to go along with our new television service. When I call them up to fix the error, they have no record of me setting up the new television service. Despite giving them my name, my current address, my new address and my credit card number it takes them 45 minutes to locate my file.

Once again I double check the details of our move order (with all the various departments) and sit back, secure in the knowledge that nothing else can possibly go wrong.

6. Bell Canada cuts off our phone service two days early, on a Saturday morning. Although she has a cellphone my wife prefers to use the home line. And in fact, this is the number that most people call us on.

Since we have people who need to get in touch with us regarding details of our impending move (and only know our home number) I call Bell’s emergency repair line, where I sit on hold, for a long, long time. Finally, when I reach a human being, I explain the situation. The rep tells me that he can have the phone turned on tomorrow morning. In reality, the phone service is activated the following night, roughly 12 hours before it was due to be disconnected anyway.

No credible reason is ever given for the early disconnection.

Once again I double check the details of our move order (with all the various departments) and sit back, secure in the knowledge that this time nothing else can possibly go wrong.

7. Bell cuts off our phone, TV and internet service promptly at the scheduled time. I call from work to confirm all our move information is on file. I confirm the details. I am not re-assured. Our phone and internet service is schedule to be set up two days later. A new modem is scheduled to arrive at the same time because the internet is no longer connected to the TV.
A tv technician is schedule to come out to our house in four days and install our television service.

8. The phone is not activated when it is supposed to be. The modem does not arrive. I call Bell inquiring why and I am informed that I apparently contacted the company and asked them to cancel the phone technician. I’m aghast. First of all, I didn’t even know we needed a phone technician to come out to our house. In fact, I was specifically told that the phone could be set up remotely, by flicking some switches somewhere else. And secondly, WHY ON EARTH WOULD I CANCEL THEM?

After some long baffling conversations with the CS Rep I also find out that they have no record of our ordering internet service at all.

Since I’m having this conversation from work I’m trying, and failing, to keep an even, reasonable tone of voice.

I arrange to have the internet set up and reschedule the phone tech.

As has become my habit. I confirm that the television tech is still scheduled to come tomorrow and install our tv. Unfortunately, they have no record of the order, until they find that the work order has somehow been mysteriously filed under my cell phone number. I hang up phone and cry quietly at my desk.

9. Ten minutes after I hang up the phone a Bell TV tech calls to confirm his appointment for later today. After correcting his error I begin to suspect I was a bad person in another life and this is karma’s way of balancing the scales.

10. The next day, my wife calls me from my house to say that the Bell tv technician is there but is unable to install the satellite as a tree blocks the dish’s line of sight. This is the only a reasonable explanation for a problem that I’ve heard from Bell yet.

However, the technician refuses to hand over the PVR we purchased, and were charged twice for, and recommends we call Rogers instead. Despite my wife’s insistence the PVR was ours and we bought it outright, he will not relinquish it. Jackass succeeds in making a pregnant woman cry.

11. I call Bell. I have a two hour conversation with them about phone, internet and their shoddy treatment of customers. I cancel the television service.

12. I order television service from Rogers

13. I write this post.

Shot vs. Snatch

2009-09-25T13:09:00.001-07:00

An interesting article sent to me by a friend about the nature of the shot vs. the snatch.

I pretty much agree with the article in its entirety on the subject.

For me one of the defining aspects of the shot, vs. the snatch, is that for shots to work effectively directors need to be conscious of not only their frame composition, but their mise en scene as well.

I think strong mise en scene (camera com\position, movement, lighting AND set dec) has given away to a strong focus on set dec and lighting effects. I remember watching some behind the scenes crap for VAN HELSING a couple years ago and watching Hugh Jackman stumble around a gigantic sound stage with half a dozen cameras following his every move. I was disappointed by that, because it showed that clearly the mise en scene was incidental to whatever the actor was doing.

Now VAN HELSING was a crap action movie and can’t really be expected to live by the mantra of the ‘shot’, but for me I thought it was an extraordinarily lazy move on the part of the director and it showed a lack of respect for the medium he was working in.

A modern director who I find is really effective at making shots look like snatches is Spielberg. But it’s all a lie. You might think he’s letting the set dec run the scene, but even his throwaway shots are all carefully composed and constructed (MINORITY REPORT, WAR OF THE WORLDS) The defining aspect what makes a snatch is not the length of time it’s on screen, but whether it serves to add something more to the story beyond just driving the narrative forward.
What I like about the shot is that, when used properly, you can capture really great performances with a single take. I love watching old comedies where two actors run a scene from beginning to end in one go. They’ve studied the HELL out of the dialogue, they know where all the comic beats are and they really take the time to refine their performances before it even gets to post.

Again, when I watch behind the scenes stuff these days it seems that most performers are lucky to spit out a single line before someone screws up and they have to do it all again. Only they never do. They never run a scene through from beginning to end. They’ve got so many cameras going that they take the scene one line at a time and as long as they’ve got each line on tape somewhere they can cut up the scene so that it makes narrative sense. This might be why I’ve gone off improv-comedies in recent years, because it’s mostly about assembling the funny from wildly unrelated material.

The shot gave us one of my most vivid movie memories ever, the slow realization that creeps over Jack Nicholson’s face at the end ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST as he begins to understand whats happening to his life inside an insane asylum.

Tarantino definitely knows the power of capturing a changing emotional resonance in a single setup. The first scene in Basterds was powerful becuase you got to watch the tension and emotion creep over the farmer’s face during his interrogation.

It came from the Labour Day parade...

2009-09-08T13:18:00.000-07:00

Snapped this photo yesterday during yesterday's Labour Day parade.

Look at little Stevie. He sure seems grumpy. Maybe it's because Canada is going to end up at the polls again this fall\winter.

My crazy ass TIFF 09 sched

2009-09-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 11

5:45 Perrier’s Bounty

11:59 Daybreakers

SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 12

12:00 Jennifer’s Body
3:00 The Dirty Saints

6:00 Up In The Air

SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 13

9:30 Cleanflix

11:30 The Men Who Stare At Goats

2:30 Valhalla Rising

9:00 Whip It

MONDAY SEPTEMBER 14

9:00 A Serious Man

12:30 Survival of the Dead

3:00 The Road

9:00 Leaves of Grass

TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 15

9:15 The Jonses

3:45 Capitalism: A Love Story

6:00 Bad Lieutenant

WEDNESDAY SEPTEMBER 16

9:00 Hungry Hills

12:00 Youth in Revolt

3:30 Blessed

3:15 Bitch Slap

THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 17

9:00 Damn United

11:45 The Private Lives of Pippa Lee

3:15 Solomon Kane

5:15 Passenger Side

FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 18

11:00 Beautiful Kate

12:30 The Invention of Lying

4:15 The Boys are Back

9:00 Mr. Nobody

SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 19

10:00 Solitary Man

12:00 Hugh Hefner Doc

3:45 Hole

6:00 White Stripes Doc

The Ballad of G.I. Joe

2009-08-11T07:09:00.000-07:00

Oh God,

This is pure awesome sauce.

I'll never tell...

2009-08-07T14:35:00.000-07:00

When S first broke the news to me that we were preggers I wanted to call up everyone I could think of right then and there. That I have poor impulse control will come as a shock to no one.* I’m the kind of person who wants to give Christmas\Birthday gifts as soon as I buy them. Waiting for the actual day to come around is pure agony. But, in this case, we decided to wait a week and tell our families on Mother’s Day, purchasing two Happy Grandmother’s Day cards and patting ourselves on the back about how clever and funny we were.

Our families were thrilled. And naturally they understood the need to keep things under wrap for the time being. But this task turned out to be easier said then done. I didn’t develop poor impulse control all on my own, it’s a learned behaviour. For nearly a month now my mother has been driving herself nuts because she’s got such great news and can’t tell anybody what it is. When she got a phone call from my uncle on Mother’s Day we nearly had to restrain her. And it doesn’t help that she keeps buying things ‘for the baby.’

“That’s a real nice high chair you’re buying, who’s pregnant?”

Our reasons for keeping this good news a secret are fairly typical. A woman has a greater chance of miscarriage in the first three months of a pregnancy. After about 12 weeks those odds drop dramatically. So it’s best to just wait and see how things are going before you tell people something you can’t take back. Or, as our doctor put it, ‘don’t tell anyone that you wouldn’t tell if something went wrong.’

Since Mother’s Day we’ve managed to violate our own Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy almost half a dozen times. S was forced to tell a couple people at work so they would know there was a legitimate reason why she couldn’t look at certain patients. And I insisted that I get to tell at least one of my friends so I’d have an outside opinion I could consult whenever some crazy idea pops into me head.

“Don’t tell S, but I really like the name Diana Prince if it’s a girl. Whaddya think?”

We’ve plugged the slow leak but I’d lay money that at least some of our friends have clued in to what’s going on. S’s crew are always on the look out for changes in behaviour. Everyone and everything is suspect. When S took a couple days off work due to her unrelenting morning sickness we started getting quizzical phone calls from her co-workers, not-so-subtly fishing for information.

Apparently we’re also predictable creatures of habit. We went out for dinner with some friends and when S had a 7up instead of her usual beer my ex-roomate piped up with “Wassa matter, you pregnant?”

For me the tricky part is remembering that not everyone knows. I’m plotting the next six months of our around our forthcoming ankle biter and it sometimes slips my mind that I have a secret I’m not supposed to be sharing. So when someone asks why we’re so determined to move before the fall I have to have a credible lie ready to tell them.

An ode to meat

2009-07-24T08:33:00.000-07:00

S was so happy in the early days of the pregnancy that her normally weak constitution had apparently dodged the morning sickness bullet. When we were informing a select group of family members about our impending peanut she proudly drew attention to her lack of morning sickness. Apparently this was enough to tempt the gods of irony because soon after her declaration she started piling up stomach turning food aversions like a squirrel storing its nuts before winter.

There’s only one way to figure out if a certain type of food is going to make you nauseous. And that’s the hard way.

Losing tomatoes was unfortunate, but hardly devestating. Losing red meat at the height of BBQ season? That’s a body blow.

I’m not going to lie to you, I’m fairly big on eating meat and taking it out of my diet has not been fun. I’ve caught myself daydreaming about hamburgers and sausages as I struggle with whatever vegetarian concoction I’m trying to pass off as lunch. Just because rabbits can get by on lettuce doesn’t mean I should.

Oh sure, the first day of our new eating regimen was fantastic. I got to empty the entire fridge of all meat products and spent my time at work happily munching on pepperettes. I was blissed out, new baby and complete possession of all the household meat products. What more could you ask for? But all too soon the fridge was empty and my dinner plate was filled with these strange and unusually shaped objects called ‘vegetables.’ It was tough. Vegetarianism is all well and good, enforced vegetarianism is tantamount to torture.

Sometimes I can’t stand it. The smells of meat are everywhere. At night the scent of BBQed steaks waft in through open windows. Co-workers heat up their lunches, spreading the enticing odour of leftover meatloaf everywhere.

I am awash in the heady perfume of red meat and unable to do anything about it.

Baby on board

2009-07-14T07:55:00.000-07:00

That’s right, we’re pregnant.

That sounds weird. Because, um, the last time I checked, I lacked a lot of the anatomy necessary to carry a baby. But I can’t tell people ‘oh, my wife is pregnant,’ because, as she points out, she didn’t get knocked up by herself. Someone else had a hand in this, someone who looks an awful lot like me.

Although I’ve been sitting on this post for over two months, at the time of its writing I’d known we’d been preggers for two weeks. And I don’t think I’ve slept soundly through the night since we found out the good news. And it is good news, great news in fact. But it’s also terrifying and frightening. I don’t know anything about being a parent. I still spend a healthy part of my weekends watching morning cartoons. Now the giant man-boy, more concerned with comic books and computer games than one-sies and strollers, has less than nine months to pull his shit together and start laying the foundation for a new kind of life. A life that incorporates the DINKs we used to be with the overworked, overstressed and overrun parents we’re about to become.

Despite what I think (and hope) I can already conclusively say that our pregnancy won’t be much like this. In fact all of my knowledge of what to expect when you’re expecting comes from TV. And apparently that bastard has been lying to me half my life because I don’t know anything.

All I have is questions, and a big gaping black hole between my ears where the answers are supposed to be hiding. So I do what I always do when I bump against something I don’t understand, I grab all the books on the subject that I can find and read the shit out of them. Although rather than solve my dilemma in this case it really only seems to be lead to even more questions. But I take solace in the fact that they seem to be more focused and relevant, somewhat along the line of When is a good time to start bottle feeding? as opposed to, Babies come out of where now?

But what I’ve really noticed is how the arrival of our little peanut has caused me to take a good long look at myself. As S would say, only I could take our pregnancy and use it as an excuse to make it all about me. But she’s not quite right. I’m looking at myself because now I have to make some very real choices about what kind of parent will I be.

How will my parenting style differ from that of my own folks? Or, even more chilling, what will the similarities be? Will I be able to find the right line between doting parent and disciplinarian-for-hire when necessary? What sort of experiences will I expose, or not expose my child too? And when? I don’t even like cleaning the cat’s litter box how will I manage dirty diapers. Oh god, I was a horrible teenager, will my kid be as bad as I was? How will I deal with that?

You can boil all these questions down to a single thought, what kind of person am I?

Because you can’t really take responsibility for someone else’s life until you’ve got a pretty solid understanding on the elements that make up your own.

I’ve got a lot of thinking ahead of me, and some pretty important decisions that are going to come out of it all. This is the pre-season right now*, where I get the luxury of doing all the work on paper and making strictly theoretical plans. It’s a time to blue sky and imagine all the wonderful potential for the season ahead. But soon enough, the regular season will come and I need to make damn sure that I’m prepared. Because that’s when reality sets in and the choices I make won’t effect just me anymore.

*Oh god, I’m using sporting metaphors to illustrate child rearing. This is how it starts.

Game changer

2009-07-13T10:45:00.001-07:00

Good afternoon,

I thought I'd shake things up a little bit.

That sound you hear is my heart thundering in my chest. Carry on.

Denied

2009-07-13T08:21:00.001-07:00

Damn.

We didn’t get the house. There wasn’t even a bidding war. In the end we just couldn’t agree on price. And, to be honest, the seller didn’t even try.

It’s too bad. I won’t deny I’m a little bummed. Once you get to the stage where you’re willing to make an offer on a place you start to envision yourself living there and you can’t help but get emotionally attached. Thankfully our cold money grubbing hearts were still functioning and we didn’t chase after the price. Which means that we still have enough sense to realize that the allure of home ownership ain’t worth draining our bank accounts over.

I really thought we had a shot at the place.

The house is significantly overpriced given its condition and the neighbourhood. It’s been sitting on the market for two months and already had one considerable drop in price. We probably would have been willing to meet his selling price if the place didn’t need so much work done to it.

I suspect that that owner has a number in his head that he’s not willing to go below, even if that number scares most potential buyers off.

Who knows, with so few houses on the market these days maybe he can afford to wait until the supply dries up so much that someone will have to meet his price because there are no other options available.

Meanwhile, we’ll keep looking and hopefully we’ll have a little more luck with the next place that tickles our fancy.

First Loves

2009-07-09T12:33:00.000-07:00

I’m trying really hard not to get attached to the first house we looked at.

Oh we’ve kicked the tires on a couple other places, but we haven’t seriously considered anything after seeing that first place.

So we’re going back to look again. Only this time we come armed with family. My B-I-L and my father, armed with decades of construction experience, are going to help us look a little more objectively at the house we’re coveting.

They’ll be able to see beyond the future dream world of birthday parties, Christmas dinners and personal space we’ve constructed into the harsh reality of the now. The now where the plumbing leaks, the electrical needs work and that back porch is going have to be replaced. And all those things cost money.

Our biggest advantage. The house has been on the market for two months, with one price drop.

Mayhap the price has a little more flexibility left in it?

Extra money

2009-07-07T09:31:00.000-07:00

We were fortunate enough when selling to get a bit more than our asking price. This was entirely unexpected. We even had a lowest minimum offer, below our original asking price, that we were willing to accept. So when our place took off we were content to earmark this ‘extra’ money for agent’s fees, home inspection costs, lawyer fees and all the ancillary costs that crop up during a scenario like this.

The last thing I want to do is get into the mentality that since we sold for more than we wanted, we can turnaround and use the extra cash to buy a bigger place than we originally expected.

Not happening.

There are a whole plethora of reasons why that’s not going to happen. But for me, I want to avoid any scenario where we end up taking on more debt than we have too. If there’s one thing S and I can agree on it’s debt is bad. (I’ve seen too many episodes of TIL DEBT DO US PART to know that some couples don’t necessarily agree on that.)

So we’ve got a price range we’re happy with (350-400k), a neighbourhood we’re circling like predatory birds and enough money in our pockets to give us options.

Not to shabby.

A done deal

2009-07-06T13:02:00.000-07:00

Wow.

So we sold our place and the whole process was lightning fast.

I didn’t really know what to expect. I’d been a renter many times but when I moved in with S I just moved into the place she was already living in so we never had to take the step of house hunting together.

After two weeks of back breaking labour to get the place ship shape and three days of lurking in movie theatres or bars until it was late enough to slink home we got an offer.

Correction

We got six offers.

I thought the days of multiple offers were dead. Don’t believe the hype.

I thought the whole thing would be done with offers that had been faxed into the agent’s office. I was shocked to find out that a couple agents were actually going to come in and present to us directly. I was grappling with my best poker face as each agent sat down and presented the particulars of their offers. On the whole I was just aiming to be pleasant about the whole thing because soon we’ll be in the same position and it doesn’t pay to piss off karma if you can avoid it.

Anyway, we were obviously spoiled with a plethora of options. We were able to sell with the terms and conditions we wanted, ones that gives us enough time to look for a place without being rushed.

We’re already pouring over RE listings and driving through neighbourhoods. I think we’ll be all right when it comes to generalities (neighbourhood, location, style) but I suspect we might clash a little bit when it comes to the specifics.

But who knows. I’ve been wrong before.

Moving

2009-07-02T13:33:00.001-07:00

Our house went on the market this morning, nearly two weeks to the day that we made the decision to sell. And we’ve already got four showings booked. Not bad, eh? While it seemed like an easy choice at first, practically a no-brainer, it became tougher and tougher as we lurched closer to our sell date to steel ourselves to the task at hand.

We got bogged down in conflicting schedules, the rigours of back breaking labour, illness and yes, unexpected sentimentality.

(We can’t move now. It’s right downtown. And so convenient. What’re we gonna do in the sticks? I love this place)

I admit. I got a little miffed when I had to put the bulk of my belongings in storage. Apparently, everything I own is repellent to potential female buyers.

That vintage Dawn of the Dead poster?

Gone.

My precious books?

Gone.

Clothes?

Gone.

Everything was hidden away to make the place seem larger, roomier, more inviting.

And then there was the endless cleaning, packing, and repacking.

One of my favourite sayings is ‘no matter how well a move is going, it’s never really going well.’

Well, this is like that. Only worse. Because this is the pre-pack. A lot of what we shipped out, is gonna have to come back in while we look for a new place of our own. And when we move? It’ll all have to be packed…AGAIN.

Bugger.

I can’t afford to be sentimental about this place. I can’t afford to think about how this home is the place where I met my wife and where we have lived together (for better or worse) for the past 4 years.

Or how soon, if they aren’t already, complete strangers are going to be tromping through halls (don’t they know I just vaccumed those?), looking in my cupboards and making judgement calls about our design choices. I know it’s not personal, they’re just looking for their own little piece of paradise.

But I happen to think it’s pretty perfect already.

Review: Stratford Festival - West Side Story

2009-05-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

S and I went to see West Side Story at the Stratford festival last weekend. This was a Christmas gift from my sisters and their respective bfs. WSS is easily in my top five movies of all time and will always provoke some strange looks from my friends when I bring it up. But I watched it so many times as kid that my love for the film is ingrained in my bones. You could say its almost like my Goonies. (A film that I firmly believe can only truly be liked if you watched it as a child – which I didn’t)

Anyway, there’s not a lot for me to say about the play. The energy was up, the acting was solid and even though it was still in previews the whole play felt polished, but not overly so. Which is a good thing. You can’t watch a Romeo and Juliet rip off with frantic streetwise dance fighting and want to see a performance that’s too controlled. I think the play is more about the energy and the heart than just getting everything just right.

The thing about WSS is that when it was first preformed it was a contemporary take on a classic play. But for the most part that slant is now solidified in amber, stuck firmly in the late 50’s and early 60’s. I’d love to see a modern look at the play using backdrops and costuming from the 21st century. What would that WSS look like?

Chilina Kennedy as Maria and Paul Nolan as Tony were spot on delivering heartfelt soulful performances. And even though I freely admit I’m overly wedded to the film version of the musical it was nice to see that the play paid homage to the film but wasn’t afraid to own the space and make it their own thing. A satisfying mix of comfortable old favourites and new thinking.

My biggest complaint is that the use of the thrust stage meant that sometimes the action was blocked by other actors. On a couple occasions something ‘big’ was happening on the far side of the stage but I couldn’t see it because the chorus\dancers were filling the space in between. It only happened for mere moments, but it was jarring enough to take me out of the play whenever it occurred.

Anyway if that’s my biggest beef, I’d say you’re sitting pretty.

Trying to keep an even keel

2009-05-02T07:58:00.000-07:00

This article encapsulates a lot of the fears that plague me these days. S and I are lucky enough (knock on wood) to still have jobs. But all around us friends are losing theirs and it’s hard not to feel nervous about the future. We’re on the verge of taking the next step, house and a fam, at time when things could change at any moment. We’re talking a lot of extra costs. S and I are budget masters but nearly doubling our mortgage and the costs of kids means increasing our risk when we should be doing the exact opposite.

Random Photo of the Day

2009-05-01T08:13:00.000-07:00

Truth in advertising. I love this photo. To many of my ultimate pictures are boring profile photos because I'm forced to take them from the sidelines. I got lucky with this one and was able to sneak away and shoot this from behind the endzone, hence the straight on perspective.

President's of the United States of America concert

2009-04-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

I'm covered in bruises from moshing like it was 1994, but it was a great concert nonetheless.

Unfortunately the camera wasn't charged so I only got a few photos.

list of life

2009-03-27T11:57:00.001-07:00

Oooooooookay. Deep breath everybody, deep breath.

I’m almost there. I’m nearly 30.

30!

I’ve been flashing back to high school chemistry class a lot over the last couple of days. For reasons that have long ago been lost to the mists of time, my lab partner and I used to scream out ’30!’ whenever we had to work on an in-class project. We thought ourselves pretty amusing and we never failed to crack each other up. I’m sure to our partially formed brains we were comic geniuses, but I wonder if maybe we’d just been inhaling too many fumes from the bunsen burner.

So whenever someone mentions my 30th birthday, I hear a newly post-pubescent voice scream ’30!’ in the back of my head and away I go.

People make such a fuss over aging these days, and the importance of hitting those all important decade milestones. I feel like I should have something more insightful to say about the gravity of hitting the big 3-0.

And I’ve got nothing.

Oh, when I went to my hairdresser last night I was a little bummed out that apparently I had a bunch of grey hairs in the back of my head where I couldn’t see them.

I also know that I’ve been trying to convince myself that my opponents on the Ultimate field are insanely fast. When in reality the truth is I’ve lost a step or two.

And eating smarter became a necessity a couple years ago as my expanding waistline told me that my vaunted metabolism had finally crapped out.

So yes, I’ve certainly noticed the effects of aging and no, I can’t say that I’m overly enamoured with it.

I used to have something in my wallet called the List of Life. I made my first list in high school when I was inspired by a guest speaker who said that making a list of things he wanted to accomplish in his life helped to keep him grounded over the years. My first list was fairly juvenile and had very little to do with reality. But the list helped me set some of my first concrete goals and gave me a sense of purpose. I finally had an idea about what I wanted to get out of my life.

I kept that list in my wallet and I took great pleasure in being able to cross off some of the more mundane items on it. (Graduate high school, get into my first choice of University)

Later on, during a particularly gruelling time in University, I revised the list, dropping some of the wilder items and adding rather lofty career goals. That revision helped to refocus and reinvigorate me at a time when I was feeling overwhelmed by the pressures of post-secondary education.

(At that time I also created the first ever appendix to the list. A series of bullet points about the elements I thought were crucial to good filmmaking. A goodly portion of my university angst was centered around the difficulties in shepherding my film projects through to completion.)

The List of Life 2.0 languished in my wallet for years, becoming delicate and frail from being folded and unfolded so many times.

The last time I remember seeing it was on my first date with my now wife. In a fit of hubris I had the balls to pull that list out of my wallet and show her the many things I planned to accomplish with my life. To her credit S read the list and managed to avoid laughing in my face.

Since then the list has been misplaced, most likely to prevent further degradation to it’s worn folds. An in-depth search about a month ago failed to turn up even a trace of it.

As I approach my 30th birthday (30!) it was inevitable that I would succumb to a certain amount of reflection about how I got to where I am today. I find myself wanting to create yet another list, not just to remind me about what I want to get out of life, but also to remember what I have accomplished over the course of my time here.

The list of life meant a lot of things to me. It was a physical reminder to keep striving to reach my goals. It was the repository of the hopes and dreams of an optimistic and naïve 15 year old. It was where a struggling artist scribbled a hasty manifesto about his art. It was the first time I opened up in a meaningful way to my wife.

I intend to rewrite that list, because I can’t stop wondering what it will mean to me now.

Fitness

2009-03-24T09:40:00.000-07:00

The new multi pronged fitness plan isn’t exactly proceeding as...planned.

As opposed to Ulti which is a fixed time, week in week out. My rock climbing and yoga schedule is much more flexible. In this case flexibility is more of a hindrance than a help. Flexibility means it can get bumped or re-scheduled because something else came up that needs to take priority. Just this one time though, I swear, we’ll get back on schedule next week.

Meanwhile I’m scarfing down rabbit food and fat free yogurt so my weight doesn’t balloon.

To recap. The rock climbing is awesome. It’s exactly what I wanted. A fun workout that doesn’t seem like a workout. I’ve only got an opportunity to do it once so far. But the plan is to make this a weekly event and I have every intent of following through with that. Next week. I swear.

Hot yoga is a more challenging experience and the jury is still out on that. My first pass saw me lose five pounds from sweat alone. It was a draining experience, but in the end I did feel very relaxed. I can’t say I enjoyed it though. That’s not going to stop me from trying it for about a month and then re-examining the matter. I didn’t like Ulti the first time either and now I can’t imagine my life without it.

Speaking of which. Less than a month before the Spring season begins. I can’t wait.

Weekend

2009-02-27T11:30:00.001-08:00

Ahhh.

The weekend.

Those precious 48 hours where your time is hypothetically your own. With S working this weekend that last statement finally has the ring of truth to it. I could spend my time wisely, catching up on schoolwork or entering the three boxes of books I have stashed in the car (We've sold seven books in February, so we're doing extratordinarily well right now...ha-cha-cha).

BUT.

I have a new addiction. Civilization IV (with expansion pack). For the last month of my life this game has taken up every increasingly rare spare moment I have. In a bid to shake me out of my reverie my wife has threatened divorce and\or physical violence with varying desgrees of sucess.

I've always had a weakness for the Civ franchise (thank you for that Adam) but C-4 has become the perfect outlet for an overworked me.

For the most part I've suceeded in weaning myself off the game. Only that was before the prospect of 48 Chris-centric hours were streched out before me like a field of candy and free comic books.

I mean, I'm strong. But I'm not that strong.

RRSPect

2009-02-26T11:20:00.001-08:00

So,

The RRSP deadline is almost here. I made one final contribution and managed to find some extra cash to top up some of my funds.

I'm a couple years late to the RRSP party so I have a bigger unused contribution amount than most people. I'm trying to winnow that amount down, but, well money doesn't grow on trees.

This shit takes time yo.

But, I think I've done a lot better than last year at contributing my RRSPs. Considering this is all taking place in the same year I got married, took an unexpected field trip to Oz and watched the financial markets commit hara-kiri I don't think that's too shabby.

Now to beef up my emergency fund. (I have got to stop reading Turner's doomsday blog)

Silly season

2009-02-24T14:31:00.000-08:00

Rumours of my demise have been greatly exagerated. I've come out the other end of the Awards\Magazine\Conference silly season, shaken, stirred, but not broken.

Although if forced at gunpoint, I would have to say it was a near thing.

So now happens to be the time of year where I step back from the hustle and bustle of the world and peer closely into "what else is going on in my life."

I'd really like to up my physical regimen. I dropped down to one game a week and I quickly saw the unfortunate reprecussions of that choice in my weight and my stamina. My intent was always to pick up yoga and rock climbing and give something other than frisbee a try. The time to put that plan into effect is now.

Stace and I are considering buying a home. We're not stupid people, just people who are considering taking the next step in our relationship at a very inopportune time. The alternatives are to act now or wait out the financial apocalpyse first. Only there are no guarantees the latter will end anytime soon and we'd kind of like to get moving on the former now. So we're researching our asses off and going into the house buying thing with our eyes fully open.

Financially it's save, save, save time. I'm topping up my RRSP's this week and hoping I come within spitting distance of my maximum contribution amount. I think this year may get me close enough to max out completely next year. That would be nice. I'm still working on repairing the emergency fund after the wedding and Oz trip and I'll feel much happier about the state of that by the summer.

My birthday is coming up. No comment. I feel fat and flabbtastic as it is. No need to mark that milestone with celebrations.

I'm way behind on my reading and I need an injection of some quailty film making ASAP. But there's not much else happening for me right now. Mostly I'm trying to catch up on all the little things that I had to put aside during the aforementioned silly season.

Q: Who knows what little forgotten work gems are going to crawl out of the woodwork now?
A: The Shadow knows.

On the road again

2009-01-08T14:01:00.001-08:00

So.

Over the holidays S and I were involved in a collision.

Everyone was fine, even if there were a couple of scary moments (oh look, that car is getting AWFULLY close to my side window, and it seems to be coming ever so quickly).

Unfortunately, after the accident, our car was a write off. I’ve been driving my parents Win(d)star around for the past three weeks and I won’t cry at all to see the back of that particular whale. The slightest gust of wind is enough to push this thing all over the road, which can be a little scary when highway driving, white knuckles all the way.

So after some fruitless and highly frustrating outings we’ve finally closed the deal on our replacement vehicle.

It’s the exact same model.
It’s the exact same colour.
It’s the exact same year.

Only it has 40,000 less km on it, as well as a remote starter.

Upgrade?

Fit and (just) bearing it.

2009-01-07T14:30:00.001-08:00

So.

Every day this week I’ve gotten up before work and put in about half an hour on the Wii Fit. If you know me at all, (and you don’t…thanks a lot of caring….jerks), then you know that when it comes to getting up early in the morning, voluntarily, during the work week, you’ll find that to be an extremely improbably event. Unless, you know, you were handing out free bacon or something.

You aren’t handing out free bacon are you?

You’re much more likely to win the lottery, or become the first person in the history of the planet to teleport to the moon, rather than see my ass role out of bed without hitting the snooze button on the alarm less than three times.

I likes my sleep I does.

Fun fact. If my wife doesn’t turn off her alarm fast enough in the morning she’ll find that I’ll reach over top of her half awake self and do it for her. Which will allow her to fall quickly back to sleep. And nothing bad ever happens.

Anyway. Back to the story. Me. Up early. Wii Fit.

Surprisingly I’m enjoying it. I’ve written off the aerobics and games as nothing more than amusing light and noise, but the yoga and strength exercises seem to have some value. I also like charting my mostly insignificant weight loss. Perhaps I’ve become inspired because the Wii has chosen to calculate my Mii character as overweight and plumps up my avatar accordingly. It’s not fun to watch that chunky little version of myself toddle across the screen, presumably chasing after some mythical Wii Doughnuts.

Whatever the reason, this new fitness regimen has part of my morning routine. Finally I can exercise in the privacy of my own house, without having to shamefully hide my body away from the judgemental eyes of the casual gym-goer. Now that’s Wii-tastic

2001: A Strike Odyssey

2009-01-06T12:10:00.000-08:00

I feel sorry for the York students currently suffering through (yet another) TA and contract faculty strike.

I went through the same roller coaster back in 2001 and the experience was not a pleasant. It’s extremely unfortunate that in a contract dispute between the TAs and the administration only the students will suffer. When this whole mess is done the TAs will keep on teaching and the school will keep on running, but the students will have lost two months, and counting, and they’ll still need to wrap up their school year.

Chances are the administration will extend the school year by another month, at least that’s what they did when it happened to us. But that’s the only favour they’re like to do anybody.

1. Students will still have to be out of their apartments and residence rooms at the same time. The administration will extend the school year, but they won’t extend your room lease, meaning those unfortunate enough to live on campus will have to couch surf for that month.

2. Students will lose a month of summer employment. Either they start job hunting late, when all the good jobs are gone, or they’ll have to do double duty, going to school and working a summer job. There’s a difference between a PT job you do during the year, and a summer job, which often comes with FT houts.

3. All the students projects will be due immediately. Yes they may extend the school year by a month, but, um, duh, they’ve still been our for OVER TWO MONTHS. So students will have the same amount of school work to do, but a month less in which to get it done. And if you’ve read point number two, some students will now have jobs. Hurrah! Yes, some profs will drop an assignment here or there. But trust me, if my experiences at York are indicative of what may happen, the majority of profs will insist that ALL the work still be completed, on time, because that’s how things work ‘in the real world.’

For the students at York this strike is like being caught in a divorce between two angry parents. Only the children will be hurt.

Hey! Look at me!

2009-01-05T08:25:00.000-08:00

No. Seriously. Look at me.

It’s long been a source of bemusement for me that the day I got my new laptop I was going to leave the dating world forever and finally get serious about this writing stuff. All I had to do was get this ONE DATE out of the way and I could finally clear my schedule of any and all distractions.

How was I supposed to know that the woman on that one date would end up being my wife?

That was three and half years ago and while I’ve dabbled at writing since then I’ve only done enough to take the edge off the disease. I’ve never given myself over to the lifestyle change necessary to produce a completed work.

Well, all that is changing.

I’ve bought a new laptop, again.

For the past few months I’ve been winding down my external commitments, putting firm boundaries on how much time extra time I spend at work and brainstorming like made on some of the insanity that’s been bubbling around in my head.

Hence, no new entries here. What could I say? I’m tired of reading and analyzing the works of others as my sole contribution to the artistic world. I want to start participating in an actual dialogue.

So I am.

This is not a New Year's resolution or a spur of the moment whim. I've been working at shaping my schedule around this moment since the wedding. This is about doing.

Are a Con-do or a Con-don't?

2008-10-31T11:15:00.000-07:00

The condo corp has once against wrapped its icy hands around the collective balls of its residents. Unfortunately, I don't appreciate the reach around and S is jealously starting to reach a slow boil.

The corp has decided to start doing full blown construction next week on a walkway between the main condo building and the row of townhouses that hide behind it. Unfortunately we happen to live in those townhouses and that walkway is the only way in and out of our place. We're not the only people in this position, so the corp has decided to remove the railings separating the patios of the individual townhouses so that residents can get into their homes without having to scale fences.

S and I aren't thrilled with the fact that pretty soon every and anybody who would normally use that walk way is now going to have uncontrolled access to our private property. (Although in all honestly, I can't see any other reasonable way for them to do it) But we were in no way consulted, or informed, about this possibility until less then a week before the construction was due to start.

Once again the corp has made a decision and decided to proceed with it, without informing or consulting the people who actually pay the money that allows this stuff to get done.

Worst of all, the construction is completely unnecessary. Apparently they want to tear up the concrete sidewalk ,that has a couple cosmetic cracks in it do to frost heaving, and replace it with interlocking brick. I'm sorry, but I took a look at the sidewalk last night and cosmetic really does sum it up best. The walkway is hardly riddled with cracks, we're talking about one or two cracks in a sidewalk less then ten years old. It's just another excuse to spend money and justify the condo fees.

Hey I have an idea, if you've got so much money that you're spending it on make work projects, why not put some of it back in the owner's pockets.

Six sentence comic book reviews: RAGE!

2008-10-30T11:36:00.001-07:00

Final Crisis: Rage of the Red Lanterns

Lots of differing opinions on RRL. You can find two extremes here and here. Personally I’m enjoying the story line. Yes it’s a little hokey, setting up a whole universe of colour coded intergalactic space warriors. But on another level the colour concept story feels almost inevitable, like Silver Age-y hi-jinks that someone should have written up a long time ago. “Hey, we’ve got this character called Green Lantern, now I’m just spitballing here, but what if we had a RED Lantern as well?”

Genius.

Justice League of America #26

Honestly, I don’t know why I still read this title. My affection for the first 75 issues of the aborted JLA series has kept me reading this turkey well past its best before date. You’d think that a comic about most of the heavy hitters in the DCU would be, well, good. But sadly that hasn’t been the case for quite some time. Justice League of America is so concerned with being a mirror, accurately reflecting events and changes in the DCU proper, that it never goes out and creates any lasting changes of its own on that same world. I’m done with it and the mediocrity it imbues.

No Hero #2

Say what you will about Ellis reusing his favourite story motifs, but I still find that whatever he puts his hand to is more interesting than the majority of mainstream material out there. With some notable exceptions, superheroes have traditionally fallen into the game by accident or as a result of extraordinary circumstances. Very rarely do people seek the profession out. In No Hero, Ellis is exploring what happens to the desire to be a superhero when it gets all wrapped up in the vestments of corporate and institutional interests.

Pull List: 29 October 2008

2008-10-30T07:15:00.000-07:00

Final Crisis: Rage of the Red Lanterns
Justice League of America #26
No Hero #2
Superman #681
Trinity #22
Ultimate Captain America Annual #1
Ultimate Spider-man Annual #3

FA2K+8

2008-10-29T07:01:00.000-07:00

With the financial apocalypse (FA2K+8) in full swing, and savings accounts everywhere hemorrhaging those hard earned dollars and cents, I was highly amused to find out yesterday that my financial institution of choice has determined that I'm a safe enough credit risk to offer me a ten thousand dollar line of credit.

Now granted, I know very leeetle except the bare minimum when it comes to playing around with the grand and mystical world of finance. But with money everywhere evaporating like a puddle of piss on a hot summer day, thanks to some poor decision making in the world's CREDIT MARKETS, you would think banks would excercise a little discretion before handing out more credit with few (if any) strings attached.

Take it away boys.

Chinese Democracy

2008-10-27T13:39:00.000-07:00

So,

have you heard Chinese Democracy yet, the new the new Guns and Roses single from the album of the same name? Perhaps you’ve listened it several times online but can’t even remember doing so. Well, you’re forgiven. Lamentably the new single is forgettable and middle of the road material, inducing instant amnesia and a palpable sense of nostalgia for GNR’s earlier work.

The single has a generic mid to late 80’s heavy rock feel, without any of the character and personality that have made a band like Gun and Roses so great the first time ‘round. It doesn’t grab you, hell, the song barely even checks you out before heading off to someplace else, leaving you feeling dirty and cheap.

It’s inevitable. Call it, Phantom Menace syndrome. After 17 years of waiting with baited breath for the coming GNR album, fans old enough to remember the LAST album can’t help but build the whole thing up a little more than it needs to be.

But it’s early days yet. It’d be far to premature to judge the entire album on the back of one mediocre single. I prefer to think of this album as Axl clearing his throat, getting rid of all the grotty phlegm and other crap in his system before inhaling a deep, clean breath and jumping back into the creative pool.

(An aside that robs me of a little hope. S and I went to a GNR concert a couple years ago. Axl was still rocking the Chinese Democracy stage decoration. It was a great concert but it was quite obvious that the weakest songs in his set were the ones from the 'new' album)

Bats

2008-10-23T09:52:00.000-07:00

Oh HELLS yah!

This clip reminds me of the impression our ten year old ring bearer would do of Christian Bale in The Dark Knight.

Spot. On.

Tough calls

2008-10-23T09:09:00.000-07:00

I’m dropping Ultimate to one night a week.

Four years ago I was living with one of my roommates and playing Ultimate with my core group of friends. Now obviously, I live with my wife and my friends have stopped playing game. And, for whatever reason, I haven’t been able to duplicate the camaraderie of the group I first started playing with on another team. I think it may be that the original Ulti team started out as a rec squad before moving to the intermediate level.

Now days all I play is intermediate and the personalities involved are more competitive, less social.

And frankly I miss my friends.

And I'm freeeeeee, freefalling...

2008-10-22T12:50:00.000-07:00

S and I are getting burned with the Loonie’s freefall. With our Oz trip inching ever closer we thought it was time to get the jump on buying Australian dollars before our own dollar fell too much further. Imagine our surprise when we discovered that most banks don’t keep Aus dollars on hand, unless specially requested. So we have to wait until the weekend before we can horsetrade with RBC, at which time the Loonie will have plummeted even further.

Good for the banks.

Bad for us.

Six sentence comic book reviews: The day evil won

2008-10-22T12:23:00.000-07:00

Aetheric Mechanics
Final Crisis #4
Final Crisis: Submit
Hellblazer #248
Invincible #54
Trinity #21
Superman: New Krypton
Ultimate Spider-man #127

Final Crisis #4/Final Crisis: Submit

I’ve been watching Final Crisis: Submit appear and disappear off the publishing schedule for a couple weeks now. I don’t know the reason for its perpetual vanishing act, but if someone with any brains at all intentionally decided to release these two titles on the same day, I give them well deserved kudos. FC: Submit reads almost like an exceptionally long Prologue, yet the events that take place within it dovetail nicely into the more opaque goings-on of FC #4. Weighing in on the J.G. Jones controversy, I think it’s a shame that he won’t be finishing the penciling on the lead series. With so much riding on the success of this crossover event I don’t think DC comes off particularly well in their ability to adequately plan and co-ordinate the whole thing. When the series penciler is publicly questioning his own role with the project you can tell something has gone wrong behind the scenes.

Invincible #54

Still not feeling the new costume. It’s not just that I’m notoriously resistant to change (I am) but the new threads feel like a generic re-tread of so many of the superhero costumes currently out there. The original Invincible look was clearly punching above its weight, borderline iconic, representative of the wearer’s personality and it makes an instant impression on the reader. Black and blue and a darkening personality is an overused gimmick I’ve seen in too many other places to really care about it. Yes I know Kirkman and Ottley are making a point here, but I think they’re being self-referential about an era in comic history that’s better left in the pass. I hope this Dark-Mark bit will be finished sooner rather than later.

Fishing recap.

2008-10-21T13:54:00.001-07:00

Back from the ‘fishing weekend’ at ye olde family cottage this weekend. Although, in all honesty, they should just change the event title to ‘poker weekend’ and be done with it.

I spent half an hour on the dock casting my lure out into the wild blue yonder. The rest of that time I was in the cottage losing my shirt at poker. Technically I split three pots with my god-brother M. But that’s not winning, that’s just trying to wrap things up so you can move along to the next game.

Packed on five pounds from greasy food and beer and I didn’t regret a single morsel of it until I huffed and puffed my way around the Ultimate field last night. (Bean pole was out of shaaaape)

Right now I’m trying to keep on top of all my pending school assignments so that when S and I wing are way to Oz in a month or so I won’t be completely screwing over my grades.

Other than that it’s pretty quiet right now. Busy (work, school, frisbee, etc) but with day to day stuff not special projects. I’ve been feeling a strong desire to be creative lately. And I’m trying to find the time to do so, but as always that’s an uphill battle and it always seems to be the last thing I tackle in my day, not the first.

Leader losing

2008-10-20T05:06:00.000-07:00

Dion expected to make a speech today announcing he will be resigning as Lib party leader. Nothing shocking about that. S and I talked a couple times during the election about how uncomfortable she was with the idea of Dion being the PM. She just felt that he was weak and impersonal.

And while I never necessarily agreed with her perception of him I knew that if she felt that way, then voters who were far less sympathetic to Dion and the Lib brand were probably doing some soul searching on election day. The Con advertising and messaging has done its trick and Dion was branded with a reputation he was unlikely to change.

That's the bare knuckle world of politics for you.

I think that Dion was a very smart man with some good ideas, several of which Harper and the Con are already appropriating. I applaud the Green Shift plan and I'm sorry we won't be able to see it implemented. But Dion does lack the charisma that is a staple of any career politician, an ability to connect with undecided or wavering voters. And with the Left split to high heaven you need to have a leader who will draw people in.

I think we'll get to see a 'do-over' of the 06 Lib leadership convention, only this time fewer people will be casting their ballot with rose coloured glasses.

On reviewing

2008-10-17T10:47:00.001-07:00

I spent about an hour and change writing my wholly uninspired review of Miracle at St. Anna. Mike Lane, who just saw that film last night, took that same hour and wrote out a review\rant that puts my feeble critique to shame.

I may have studied film. Mike Lane lives it.

I marvel at his ability to to see beyond the surface story and pick up on all the auteuristic underpinnings that lay underneath.

I am truly impressed.

Weekend hi-jinks

2008-10-16T13:26:00.000-07:00

It says something about the state of the economy when you can watch the TSX shed 300 points and thing.

"Meh, that's not so bad"

I think in the last couple of weeks we've become so conditioned to watching the market plummet into the nether regions of financial hell that a 300 point drop is, quite literally, nothing.

You'll put me up when I'm homeless, right?

I'm off to the Great White North this weekend. My father has thrown open the annual fishing trip with his buddies to the younger generation. Which means that, for the first time ever, someone under 30 will be attending this prestigous event. The only new additions being my godbrother and I.

I couldn't care that much for fishing. And while I've always had a great relationship with my dad there's a big difference between how you act with your friends and how you act around family. (I know that my poker nights aren't nessecarily suitable for prime time.) So I suspect that I'll be seeing a different side to my father this weekend.

Which is all good.

I volunteer to stay behind on the dock and read the paper. Because if I don't, the terrorists win.

Pull List: 15 October 2008

2008-10-15T13:42:00.001-07:00

Brave and the Bold #18
Final Crisis: Legion of 3 Worlds 2 of 5
Final Crisis: Rogues Revenge 3 of 3
Flash #245
Grant Morrison's Dr. Who #1
Justice Society of America #19
Trinity #20
Superman's Pal: Jimmy Olsen #1
Ultimate Origins #5

Election: Post Mortem

2008-10-14T20:46:00.000-07:00

Another Conservative goverment, slightly bigger than its previous incarnation.

Predictions? I have a few.

Another federal election in no more than two years. (Head. Hand. Slap. Duh.) When that happens I suspect you'll see at least two federal parties with new leaders. (I look forward to the upcoming Lib leadership convention and the Machevellian machinations that will follow it)

Ont and/or Que will be blitzkreiged to high heaven with political gladhanding in the hopes of achieving that elusive breakthrough, the seat majority.

In the interim Harper will govern as if he has a majority and everyone will bend over backwards to let him do it, again. The PMO will treat Con MP's like children and the public will chortle over their inexperience and inevitable PR gaffes.

The economy will tank and, regrettably, the Green party will lose its relevance because saving the environment will take a back seat to making sure that Canadians have jobs.

The more things change, the more things will stay the same . So get ready for two long years of gnashing of teeth and striking of breast.

That's politics.

Canadian Federal Election

2008-10-14T06:51:00.000-07:00

Why are you reading this blog and not out voting?

First in a series

2008-10-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

Unendearing Chris trait #347.

My inability to stop badgering people in order to get my way.

Witnesses?

Wife
Parents
Sisters
Friends
(Former friends)
Co-workers
Bosses

The end result is that the second I open my mouth to potentially degree with something, people will automatically tune me out.

That's my gift, that's my curse.*

* apologies to Frank Black.

TSX

2008-10-06T10:03:00.000-07:00

Are you able to watch the stock market lose 1,200 points during the course of the day and not experience the teensiest bit of nerves?

Be honest.

Video...and what it killed...

2008-10-06T09:40:00.000-07:00

So.

The ABC movement is heating up. I’m starting to see a lot of anti-Conservative YouTube footage making the rounds on the net.

Here’s one, and another, one more and finally this.

The first two vids are clearly Liberal party sponsored. I think its worth noting that while the Conservatives and the NDP are all over television delivering their election party platforms, the Liberals have largely retreated, reduced to delivering their message online. If I was being generous I would say it’s because they’re attempting to reach younger, more technologically developed voters. However I doubt that’s the case.

It’s more likely that budgetary constraints have restricted the party’s ability to compete at the same level as some of their other political counterparts. And while I’m not discounting traditional media, I think the side effect of the Liberal funding crunch has accelerated the shift towards moving the whole political communications process online. Which is a good thing.

I don’t recall seeing nearly this kind of online exposure in the last election. Maybe people are more dissatisfied with the current government, or perhaps in the two years since the last federal election the net has permeated our lives that much more. That’s a question for bigger brains than mine.

But just look at the number of protest videos out there. Anyone with some basic editing software and access to the internet has just as much of an opportunity to make their political POV known as the biggest media outlets. (More if you consider that media advertising buys are usually done on a regional basis and not all areas are covered equally.)

Joe or Jane blow who’ve got a beef to pick with, say, the Green Party, can slap together a video in Montreal and the next day they’re talking about it in Kamloops. It’s exciting stuff and opens the doors of the electoral process that much wider. And while the concept of viral video, or protest videos, is nothing new, I’ve never seen it used to this extent in a Canadian election before.

Strategic voting

2008-10-03T07:56:00.001-07:00

So,

I’m finding this website very interesting.

Basically an Anyone But Conservative site it attempts to advocate for strategic voting, under the guise of promoting environmental issues, in ridings where the race is close enough that Conservative candidates can be defeated.

Quickly plugging in my postal code revealed that my riding is evidently a lock for our NDP candidate and therefore I’m encouraged to ‘vote with my heart’.

All of which raises some very interesting questions.

How many people currently vote with their hearts and how many already vote strategically? If you’re a dyed in the wool NDP supporter, but feel you have a chance at stopping a Conservative candidate from being elected by voting Liberal, do you do so?

How flexible is your political ideology?

I wonder if this site also has the unintended side effect of discouraging voting. If I see that the NDP is almost guaranteed to win my riding, why vote at all? If I’m against the NDP clearly my vote won’t make much of a difference and if I’m pro-NDP I don’t need to worry because, apparently, we already have this one in the bag. There may be better ways to spend my time on election night, like going home and reading my new comic book purchases.

You should vote in support of something you whole heartedly believe, as opposed to voting out of fear and making deals with the devil.

But, lets be honest here, political ideology changes. There are four national parties that are politically left of centre to one degree or another (yes I’m including the Greens and Bloc here) and only one party that has staked out a claim to the right of the centre. Which means, between these four parties, there is clearly some sort of common ideological ground that voters might be able to relate to. It could mean holding your nose when you mark the X on your ballot. But, to you, a little principled slippage may be a small price to pay for keeping the Conservatives in check.

Since my riding is considered to be locked these aren’t really questions that I have to seriously ask myself. I have the luxury of voting how I want...secure in the knowledge that unless I'm voting NDP it may not be worth a damn. But what about those living in swing ridings, what’s going through their minds?

Canadian Leadership Debate

2008-10-02T18:39:00.000-07:00

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF%ck yah!

Now this is a leaders debate!!!

Stephen Harper is getting dog piled from all sides. He's holding his own, getting in the little knife twists and rib digs where he can, but essentially he's letting all the other party leaders talk over each other and drown out his responses in a babble of noise.

It's great to see Elizabeth May at this debate, of the five of them she's the only leader with an effortless gift of gab. She's smart, witty, great with a sound bite and she knows how to make the most of the time she being given.

Dion is doing all right. His English is still spotty and unfortunately some of his points are getting lost in translation. But he's avoided the wrath of the group as a whole and he's had a couple oppurtunities to make some solid points on the national stage.

Jack Layton. Solid, effective debater. Attacks Harper more than he sells his party. Needs to push the NDP a little more.

Duceppe. Strangely enough he's doing a really good job at offering Canadian solutions and identifying universal Canadian issues. In the English language debate he's doing the smart thing of not making regional based arguements. If I didn't disagree with the entire basis of this man's party I'd be impressed at how he's handling himself.

In my mind. May and Layton have done the best at this debate. All the rest have held their own.

This just in...

2008-10-02T12:52:00.001-07:00

Ok. Newsflash.

Two things about Australia that should strike fear in the heart of anyone thinking of making a trip to the land down under.

Giant spiders
Sharks

(AKA Chris and S repellent.)

If I see a giant spider, or S a shark of any size, expect hysteria in mass quantities. I’ve got my eye on you Australia.

In other trip developments my vay-cay time has (narrowly) been approved, the tickets have been purchased, we’ve got someone lined up to look after the cat, made touch with our B.C. relations during our brief stopover and begun to hammer out the deets of what we’re actually going to do when we’re out there…including lots of Outback experiences and annoying the locals by re-enacting ‘that scene’ from the Simpsons.

Coffee?

Beer?

Co-ffee?

Be-er?

C. O…

B. E…

And so it begins.

Pull List: 1 October 2008

2008-10-01T14:40:00.001-07:00

Batman #680
Doktor Sleepless #9
No Hero #1
Invincible #25
Justice League of America #25
Trinity #18

Heavy spending months

2008-10-01T11:58:00.000-07:00

With the arrival of October we’re officially into my heavy spending months. From September until January, this is the time of year where I have to work a little harder at scrounging the cash to cover expenses.

Over the last three years, during this time period, I’ve had to contend with…

Three birthdays
Tuition
Anniversary (First date)
Film Festival
Christmas

It comes across as a mighty short list, but tuition, the film fest and Christmas alone are usually enough to reduce my wallet into leathery tatters.

This year I have the added economic hangover of…

Wedding
Honeymoon
Pending Australia trip.

But strangely enough, if you discount the recent free fall in the marketplace, my finances look pretty good. (In the sense that I’ve managed to keep my credit card zeroed and don’t have any massive debt) I guess fiscal prudence has finally paid off.

In fact, things look so good, I’m finally going to tackle my outstanding student debt. With only $2500 left to go and so many other expenses to worry about it hardly seemed worth the effort to set aside the cash to polish this baby off. But the recent worldwide financial turmoil has convinced me that I’d be better crossing this off my ‘To Do’ list. It may not be a lot of money but in case of unexpected financial emergencies I don’t want to have to worry about covering this nut.

Thus I have developed a system to help be achieve my goal of student debt elimination.

1. After all monthly bills, RRSP deposits and ongoing investments have been take care of I will…

2. Divide all outstanding monies in my bank account three ways.

a. 1/3 to credit card payments (whenever applicable, when credit card balance is at zero, outstanding monies will be divided in half.)
b. 1/3 to student debt repayment
c. 1/3 roll over into next month.

That 1/3 rollover into the next month may be extravagant, but that is the cash I’ll be using to pay for all those birthday’s and such.

I’ve been using this system for a month and so far its been working out really well. So well that my Christmas gift to myself may be being debt free by Jan 1st, 2009.

A land down under.

2008-09-30T06:53:00.000-07:00

So.

The economy is in the crapper. My 'savings' account actually laughed at me this morning when I peered into its dark and dingy hole to see if I had any money left.

Short answer? No.

Sounds like the perfect time for a vacation right? What, three months after taking two weeks to explore the Italian countryside?

Yep, we're going to Oz. We got tickets on the cheap, friends to stay with and, more importantly, if we don't do it RIGHT NOW chances are we never will.

So when you put it like that, what's 20 hours plus in a plane? (Answer: Terrifying)

Poli-ticky

2008-09-29T10:04:00.000-07:00

There are a handful of people in this world that I can talk politics with, and on a really good day that number includes my wife. Which isn’t to say she’s not interested and informed in politics, she is, it’s just that given an opportunity to talk politics I’m likely to dominate the conversation with it until a) I get hungry or b) sleepy.

So, unless a particular issue is really sticking in her craw she’s liable to leave that topic of conversation alone, to preserve her sanity if nothing else.

But I tell you, with what passes for informed discourse these days I’m becoming more and more disgusted with the whole process.

It’s a point of pride with me that no one knows how I vote. Although my father likes to take the piss out of me by pretending that I’m some hard core left wing socialist I’ve never told anyone, ever, how I’ve voted in any given election. Part of that is because I don’t want to be pigeon holed as some sort of one party sycophant. Once someone identifies you politically in their mind, that’s who you’ll be to them forever more, despite how your political needs and opinions might change over time.

But I’ve wandered off topic here.

What spurred this post was my growing annoyance with the Toronto Star’s recent decision to allow comments on all their online new stories. Now every time a political story is run the comments section heats up almost instantaneously with idiots hiding under the guise of electronic anonymity, blasting writers and political parties simply for being ideologically different than they are.

Even the most objective information is blasted with partisan vitriol and hostility.

What the hell happened to mature debate? I’m old enough and mature enough to look at all the political parties out there and see something in each platform that appeals to me.

Green Party – Environmentalism
NDP – Urban Issues
Conservatives – Smaller Government
Liberal Party – Um. Environmentalism

I can respect a different point of a view from own, as long as it’s presented to me in a mature and grown up manner. It’s called life. Someone is always going to disagree with you, that doesn’t automatically make them the anti-christ.

And yet the bashing continues as if anyone who thinks differently is a criminal of the worst sort. If you identify online with one political party, then a free for all dog pile of hate, scorn and public shaming begins. It’s impossible for anyone to engage you like a human being. It’s not just the anonymous yahoos either. Or political leaders, our so-called role models, routinely bash each other or any special interest group they deem unlikely to support them.

Take a look at the sustained Conservative attack on Ontario. Feeling unlikely to win many seats in the province the Tories feel like its open season on our politicians, our policies and our province. The only way they can make themselves look big is by knocking around someone else who can’t compete with them at the same level.

I’m not naïve. I know that politics is a blood sport, built more around political parties staying in power, as opposed to a nobler calling. It takes a strong stomach to wade into the mess and separate the wheat from the chaff, finding parties and policies that work for you, rather then just picking one party and sticking with it – cause, you know, it’s easier to do that than put any real thought into what’s happening around you.

I just can’t help but feel like this sustained e-bashing is designed to make the whole experience even more exclusionary, driving the moderates and the mature into the shadows, unwilling to take on the ravenous partisan appetites of those who troll the internet looking to make a point. And that’s a shame, because democracy is about hearing from all voices, espeically the ones you don’t like.

Paul Newman 1925 - 2008

2008-09-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

Ahhhhh son of a bitch. Paul Newman is dead. Of cancer no less.

One of the last remaining vestiges of Hollywood's Golden Era. He hailed from a time when the blockbuster had, thankfully, yet to be perfected, films were about educating and enlightening the audience and gritty character roles were more valuable then running around with a gun in your hand and your shirt torn off.

What always appealed to me about Newman is that despite his pretty boy looks he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty to take on a role. He wasn't the world's greatest actor, but he was a very honest one. He was very much a working, blue collar type of performer.

I hope that in the weeks ahead that some of the specialty channels get their think on and feature some of his better films, (I've been wanting to watch Butch Cassisdy and the Sundance Kid again for awhile now).

So long Paul. You will be missed.

Ch-ch-ch changes...

2008-09-26T09:39:00.000-07:00

Trust and confidence are sticky widgets.

I’ve played on enough Frisbee teams where everybody studiously avoids throwing to the newbie because they don’t know the skill level of the new person. And let me tell you, when that new person is you, it sucks. In most cases these new fish have the skills, but when they’re never given an opportunity to showcase them it weakens the team (unable to make proper use of all players on the field) and it’s fairly insulting to odd wo\man out. And sometimes the situation gets proportionally worse, the longer you don’t pass to person X, the more the habit of avoiding them altogether gets reinforced.

S has frequently run into another problem, co-ed teams that don’t throw to their women. You want to piss my wife off? Charge her a hundred bucks to your join your team, then imply she’s not good enough to play on it. I recommend you duck and cover or find a good burn unit. Sexism is alive and well my friends.

Unfortunately I’ve run into a situation at work that has shaken up my neat little kingdom. Recently my office hired another person, with the same job title as me. It’s a move that was long overdue. The department was originally staffed by three people, but for the last 4-6 months the only person holding down the fort was me. I’m competent, not Superman. I needed the assist.

During that solo time period what I did was build up a system that worked really well for me. Now someone else has been added to the mix, the system is being disrupted…and I’m not handling it all that well.

I don’t loathe change. I just loathe it when its not on my own terms.

Part of the problem is she’s really smart and good at her job. So part of me feels threatened. She also knows my manager socially. So they have a bond there that excludes me. As such, he tends to trust her and rely on her. A couple times now I’ve attempted to tell my manager why something, that was poorly worded, needed to be fixed. He resisted my suggestion until, independently, new staffer brought the same issues to his attention, which he then fixed. So, in my eye he either trusts her more, or trusts me less. (A third option, more nuanced, but less satisfying, is that he simply recognized the need to make the change after two separate people brought the issue to his attention)

To me there’s a loss of prestige (king of the hill!) and a suggestion that my opinions\abilities aren’t quite as valuable as I thought they were. It’s been difficult to part with some of my responsibilities and have to include another opinion in something where I’ve had much more independent discretion.

Honestly, I don’t like it. (Forehead. Hand. Duh!) It’s much easier to be a team player when there’s always been a team. It’s a lot harder to willingly accept a forced partnership when you’ve traditionally been the lone wolf. (Think Will Ferrell in Anchorman)

I don’t know what the future will hold for me and how I will deal with the evolving nature of my job. But it continues to kindle the need in me to be my own boss and work under my own terms. Only, until I finish my PR certificate, there’s a great case for staying where I am just a little longer.

Chris does TIFF: Miracle at St. Anna edition

2008-09-25T11:31:00.000-07:00

Miracle at St. Anna
Saturday, Saturday, September 13th, 8:30pm
Ryerson Theatre

A week late, and hardly insightful and indepth. But the following review encapsulates about all I have to say regarding this film.

Spike Lee’s greatest strength as a director is his uncompromising vision. Artistically I’ve always found him to be fairly hit or miss, but sometimes, through sheer strength of will alone, he’s able to elevate the quality of his films to a level they would otherwise not be able to achieve. Sadly, that vision is lacking in his latest outing, Miracle at St. Anna.

The film follows the lives of four black soldiers, of the 92nd infantry division, colloquially known as the Buffalo soldiers, after they get trapped in a small Italian village during the second World War. The film is based on a book by James McBride and for some strange reason Spike allows multiple subplots, backstorys and flashbacks to clutter up the main narrative of the film. Instead of dealing with the situation at hand, (how the fuck do we get out of Dodge), we find ourselves sitting through convoluted love triangles, the discovery of a long lost cultural treasure, the subterfuge and deception of the Italian Resistance and a handful of other plotlines that work against the film’s natural rhythm. Perhaps that’s why the film feels so bloated at just over three hours long.

Seeing as how the film’s screenwriter, McBride, also wrote the book it shouldn’t come as a surprise that all these unnecessary subplots were carried over when he adapted his own source material. I’m guessing, as a writer, he was loath to edit his babies. If McBride didn’t have the strength to cut down the length of his screenplay then Spike should have made the tough calls when he was in the editing room and chucked some of the dead weight overboard, turning this lumbering frigate of a film into a streamlined powerboat.

It’s not a bad film, or even a dull film. It’s a long, rambling, unnecessarily meandering film that you can’t help but want to be over just so you can step out to the washroom and relieve the pressure on your kidneys.

This film is destined to fall into Spike’s ‘nearly ran’ file folder, denied the honour of standing alongside his greater masterpieces. It’s a clear example of being slavishly held to the whims of the original source material and not making the proper allowances to the conventions of its newly adopted medium.

Chris does TIFF: RocknRolla edition

2008-09-18T14:48:00.001-07:00

RocknRolla
Saturday, September 13, 2:30pm
Ryerson Theatre

Guy Ritchie is back doing gangster films and, sadly, that’s not a good thing. You couldn’t have a more wildly misleading opening to a movie review then that last sentence.

Ritchie’s last film, Revolver, was sadly denied a movie screen experience for North American audiences and we are all the poorer for it. An inspiring analysis of the human mind the film only recently showed up in bargain bins where it quietly went unnoticed except by the most dedicated film buffs. So perhaps that’s why Ritchie has chosen to retreat to more familiar subject matter, as an attempt to regain the buzz and counter-culture sensibilities of his earlier efforts.

Enter RocknRolla.

The film stars a veritable hodge podge of quirky personalities, played by everyone from A-list types on their way up the celebrity ladder (Gerard Butler), to venerable character actors (Tom Wilkinson) and attractive femme fatales (Thandie Newton). Trying to summarize the plot of this labyrinthine story in a few short sentences is a masochistic job meant for those with bigger brains then I posses. To call it a gangster film about the changing nature of organized crime is like saying War and Peace is a book about some ‘stuff that went down in Russia.’

RocknRolla deals with the fallout of London’s skyrocketing property values. Europe’s nouveau riche has descended on the city and the only way they can get permission to erect their new building is by linking arm’s with the local wheeler dealer types, led by big fish Wilkinson, to help grease the wheels of an intransigent bureaucracy. Butler leads a group of little fish, affectionately named the Wild Bunch, that get caught up in Wilkinson’s shady deals and unknowingly complicate matters by pinching some money that doesn’t belong to them. In the end, almost everyone involved is trying to track down an oft referenced, but never seen, ‘lucky’ painting, in a homage cribbed directly from Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction playbook.

RocknRolla lacks the punch of Ritchie’s previous gangster films, the modern classic Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrells and Snatch, not because RR is a bad film or even a weaker film. Rather, it’s been eight years since a Ritchie gangster film last graced the big screen and since that time a genre of filmmaking he’d help reinvigorate has become so popular that his work seems less original and groundbreaking as a result. Nothing succeeds like success.

Ritchie continues to push the genre as far as he can, with his top drawer writing, editing and direction. And even though you’ll leave the theatre impressed with the results, you can’t help but think that you’ve seen it all before.

Apparently he’s written a sequel to this film, The Real RocknRolla or some such nonsense, which he alludes to in the end credits with a James Bondian-like flourish. I think the biggest vote of confidence that I can offer RocknRolla, is that I’d be very interested in checking out what comes after.

Chris does TIFF: The Wrestler edition

2008-09-18T14:48:00.000-07:00

The Wrestler
9am, Saturday, September 13
Ryerson Theatre

Darren Aronofsky blows my mind. If you have enough brain power to process that last sentence, you clearly haven’t seen any of his films.

Pi? Power drill to the forehead at the film’s climax.

Requiem for a Dream? The entire movie is like a power drill to the forehead.

The Fountain? Yah, I’m still trying to wrap my head around that one.

The point is, every time this man picks up a piece of celluloid some part of my cognitive capacity dies a horrible death.

But The Wrestler isn’t like that. This is Aronofsky working in a different gear. The film follows Mickey Rourke, as Randy ‘The Ram’ Robinson, finishing up his pro wrestling career as little more than a shadow of the man he used to be. Randy is living a life on the fringes of pro wrestling, using his fading name and reputation to help him make a couple of extra dollars. His best days behind him, Randy is forced to participate in some of wrestling’s more dangerous matches in order to pull together enough money to make a living.

However tragedy strikes and Randy’s career is stopped dead in its tracks after a near fatal heart attack. Forcibly retired Randy tries to reconnect with the people in his life that are important to him, including his estranged daughter Stephanie, Evan Rachel Wood, and Cassidy, Maria Tomei, an aging peeler at the local strip club.

Randy’s attempts to leave wrestling behind and make a life for himself in the real world prove harder than he expected and soon if he finds himself contemplating a return to the ring.

Mickey Rourke is fantastic in this film. What is this, his fifth career comeback? If his performance here doesn’t have Oscar buzz all over it, it’s because the Academy is too busy trying to unwrap the milk chocolate from all those gold statues. I’m not saying he deserves to win, but I think, at the very least, his performance deserves to be considered. Wood and Tomei also turn in respectable performances with their time onscreen.

Aronofsky does a fantastic job setting up parallel story lines between Randy and Cassidy. Both make a living by selling a fantasy to the willing masses and both have trouble adjusting to the expectations of the real world when the sun comes up. But while Randy has squandered his time in the spotlight and has nothing to show for it, Cassidy has made the most of her circumstances and plans to retire on her own terms.

Unlike Aronofsky’s other films The Wrestler is more bio pic than mind fuck. Instead of trying to broaden our horizons about what it means to be human he chooses to tell a simpler tale of a man coming to terms with his own obsolescence and how he struggles to main his identity and dignity throughout. You don’t have to be a wrestling fan to enjoy this film, although it may help a little. In the end, if you like a good story, told well, this film is for you.

Chris does Tiff: Achilles and the Tortoise edition

2008-09-15T19:37:00.000-07:00

Achilles and the Tortoise

Friday, September 12, 8:30
Ryerson Theatre

My first Takeshi Kitano TIFF experience was watching Brother at the Varsity cineplex at about 9 on a Sunday morning. I was a fledgling film student and Kitano's final arty ultra-violent gangster flick was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Since then I've made it a point to catch every Kitano film that TIFF manages to get its hands on.

Sometimes you get Zatoichi, Kitano's tale of a blind swordsman bringing justice to medieval Japan, or Dolls, his tragic story of love and lonliness....and sometimes you get Takeshis! and Glory to the Filmmaker, expermental bio pics that can challenge even the most devoted fan. S came with me to see Glory to the Filmmaker at the last fest and when Kitano trotted out the penis guitar on screen I turned to see her giving me a look of pity and disgust.

Achilles and the Tortoise is closer to Kitano's experimental bio pic phase then it is to his gangster films, although thankfully the film avoids the outlandish excesses of his previous endeavours. The story deals with young Machisu as he attempts to follow his dream of becoming a painter, despite the great tragedies in his life that threaten to block him.

The film begins with Machisu's clumsy first attempts at painting as a boy, to his efforts at finding his painterly 'voice' as a young man, before jumping forward to the modern day where Kitano takes over the role. The first two stages of Machisu's life are mostly played straight, although with any Kitano film there is always a hint of dark anarchistic comedy. It's the tale of the earnest artist, painstakingly trying to perfect his craft, no matter what the cost.

The film's third act is played for laughs all the way. Here Kitano is sending up the more pretentious elements of the art world, heaping scorn and satirizing the incomprehensible and sometimes outlandish personalities that create 'art'.

This is Kitano's third film that tries to explain how he's done with movie making and how there isn't anything original left for him to say. Throughout his entire life Machisu the painter attempts to create a great work of art but all he ever manages is to copy the works of other great painters. Kitano's career has taken a similar arc, tired of making violent gangster films, that helped craft his public persona, he has eschewed his most familar genre in an attempt at striking out and finding his own voice, with unfortunately mixed results.

This is a modest message film that never pretends it has all the answers to the questions it posits. Kitano is just as unsure as his audience about the true nature and worth of art. He offers moviegoers a little personal insight, a little tragedy and then tries to break the tension by throwing some levity on top of it all. He wants us to think and feel, but not too hard and not too long.

Relax. He says. It's just a movie. It doesn't really matter.

ASBAR 10 - Additional

2008-09-12T10:53:00.001-07:00

Apparently Ebay is heating up with people hocking their copies of this issue. The last I checked one lot item, which included the regular cover and the variant, was selling for north of 120 dollars.

Which made me think I should head back to ye olde comic shop, purchase whatever copies they have left and fleece me some suckers on ebay.

But unfortunately, I’m inherently lazy, and reluctant to go through all that effort for something that could plummet in value by the time I get it to the cash register.

But I wonder. How much of this is an accident, and how much of it is a beautiful scam to generate some press and drive some eyeballs back to the title?

Crazy?

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Chris does Tiff: Me and Orson Welles edition

2008-09-12T08:46:00.000-07:00

Me and Orson Welles
September 11, 9pm
Ryerson Theatre

Orson Welles is one of those rare film personalities that fascinates me outside of his body of work.

An accomplished thespian and radio artist before he ever turned to more celluloid based endeavours, his genius and larger than life personality were eclipsed only by his hubris and arrogance. His film career was cut tragically short because he refused to play the studio game, but not before he forever changed the way that movies were made in Hollywood. As a result actions, he spent the rest of his life hopping around the globe trying to secure financing on a variety of projects, never again truly getting the opportunity to truly exercise his creative abilities.

However, in the Richard Linklater production, Me and Orson Welles, the focus of the film is on Richard Samuels (Zac Efron), an aspiring actor who lucks into a supporting role in Welles’ modern dress stage version of Julius Caesar. The film covers approximately the two weeks before the opening of the play. Samuels is chafing at the bit as approaches the end of his high school education and so he goes out into the world to see what it has to offer him. Almost by accident he becomes a member of the famed Mercury Theatre where he experiences first hand the passion, creativity and near chaos that was any project Orson Welles’ put his mind too.

Welles, played to absolute perfection by little known actor Christian McKay, is almost reduced to being part of the background scenery, albeit a part of the scenery that’s not afraid to insert itself forcibly into the action of the film. His almost tangible personality reinforces the character and feel of the late 1930’s, where radio was the mainstream commercial juggernaut of the day, film little more than a snot-nosed upstart and where theatre was where all the really prestigious actors worked.

McKay’s Welles moves like a storm throughout this film, scattering actors, and their ambitions, left and right. People don’t act with Welles, they react to him. He is as far above his stage counterparts of the day as he would be above his film peers less than four years later. It’s unfortunate that in the film that bears his name in the marquee, it is not this man that we are supposed to be watching

Zac Efron, Clare Danes and Ben Chaplin all do credibly jobs with the time they are given on screen. But make no mistake, you’re hear to watch Christian McKay. The man manages to bring Welles’s epic personality to the screen, but dial it back just enough that he doesn’t overshadow his fellow performers. This film is nothing more than a brief slice of Welles’ frenzied career, but it is a filling meal nonetheless.

***A note on my festival experience thus far. TIFF 07 was notable for the sheer amount of death and nudity that I ingested. I saw some great movies but the subject matter was overwhelmingly bleak and depressing and by the end of the fest I was craving some lighter fare. This year, the theme of my TIFF experience seems to be intense character driven pieces. Gone are the blood and guts, and questionable graphic nudity scenes of last year, and I would argue that my festival experience has

and furthermore...

2008-09-11T11:04:00.000-07:00

...my honeymoon sinus infection has flared up again.

Which means I'm blowing copious amounts of snot out of my skull, breathing entirely from my mouth and generally shuffling along in an obscene parody of a living, functioning human being.

Over the last couple days S has wondered aloud about the need to consider separate bedrooms for the duration of my illness. This is only disturbing when you consider the fact that we live in a one bedroom townhouse.

Fall start up

2008-09-11T10:24:00.000-07:00

So,

Back in school again for another semester. This time out the course is Reputation Management aka Crisis Communications and since its my fifth course in my PR certificate it officially puts me over the halfway mark in post secondary education: round 2.

My first assignment is supposed to be talking about my personal brand. What makes me, me?

6’4, blond hair, blue eyes, devastatingly handsome and recently started snoring in his sleep. Bam. Done. What more do you need to know? That’s my brand.

I also started the fall Frisbee season on Tuesday. I signed up as an individual and got thrown into a team that just made the switch from rec to intermediate. So I found myself handling again as some people were a little disc shy. Its not big a deal. Maybe I’ll take the opportunity to get my flick down. Stranger things have happened.* My only beef with the team is that we play at a venue that’s notorious for injuring people. The floor isn’t turf or wood, its some kind of rubberized concrete that becomes extremely slippery when the outdoor temp starts to drop. S tore her Achilles tendon there, I’ve seen break their wrist and more wipe outs then I can count. Last year I even wrote the sports league to complain about their continued use of the venue.

But with the loss of their domed turf field, the league can’t afford to be picky at where they schedule games. And since I signed up to play in it, apparently, neither can I.

*Stranger things have in fact NOT happened.

Shock and Awe

2008-09-10T11:50:00.000-07:00

Oh yah,

ASBAR #10.

The one that has apparently been recalled due to a printing error. (Must fight the urge to add air quotes.) The one which must be instantly destroyed if you see it out in the open sunlight.

Well apparently my local comic shoppe decided to ignore that edict, received the title as planned, and stuck it on the shelf anyway.

Yes, there are some very bad words in here.

Yes, you can see said bad words without trying very hard.

No, I’m not shocked.

Let’s face it. If you’re reading ASBAR you’re doing it because a) You want to see just how far Miller will go before his overlords at DC pull him back. b) You like a good laugh, (and the dialogue in this title is nothing if not hilarious.) c) You want to be a part of the tidal wave of public criticism and (sometimes) mockery. d) You like Jim Lee’s art.

Honestly, it doesn’t bother me that much. It feels like shock for shock’s sake, like a writer trying to push the envelope, trying to stir up some controversy and hey, its working.

Very few people I know admit to liking ASBAR, but they all read it, because they’re fascinated by how far this thing will go. I don’t know how well this title is selling, mostly because I’m too lazy to use the internet, but it’s still being published so obviously someone is reading.

Yes the language goes way beyond strong, but honestly this comic wasn’t intended for younger readers. The argument that, just because it contains Batman, we should be extra vigilant in ensuring that it remains all ages friendly is disingenuous. We make Batman comics (Super Friends) for younger readers, why can’t we have ones for older ones as well? Like anything else that may be bad for children, booze, drugs, cigarettes, guns, etc, accountability for making sure this comic doesn’t end up in the wrong hands lies in the hands of responsible adults.

Of course kids are going to want to see Batman swear. They’re also going to want to Daddy’s Playboys as well. Specifically because they’re not supposed to see it. We know to keep pornography from children, so why not questionable reading material as well? If your childhood hero using offensive language disturbs you on a personal level, then vote with your wallet or write to someone who can do something about it.

In an industry where almost every safe plotline has been done, it’s inevitable that someone is going to try to push the boundaries in order to find something new. If that offends you, push back.

Work bit

2008-09-10T11:27:00.000-07:00

Crashed a press conference this morning, for strictly work related reasons. Met Paul Gross, Don McKellar, Martha Burns and Karen Kain.

I was literally surrounded by a who’s who of Canada’s A-list arts and culture types.

I’m being pounded into the ground with work right now. I’m like a carnival whack-a-mole. I’m rushing to meet deadlines on Project A, while the recent federal election call means that I need to deal with the appearance of an instant workload on Project B.

Such is life.

The arrival of the new staffer is a mixed blessing for me. One the one hand I’ve been doing the job of two people for almost a year now so I can’t deny that the extra set of hands is needed. On the other hand I embrace change like a vampire embraces sunlight, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth…followed by a little internal combustion.

She’s a nice person, works hard and is probably smarter than I am. She also knows my Manager outside of work and is another opinion that muddies the water a little bit. Even though it was a shit load of work, I’d become used to shouldering the load and it’s like pulling teeth for me to give any of it up.

TIFF not for the regular guy anymore

2008-09-09T13:17:00.000-07:00

So I’ve seen (and participated) in some chatter about how the basic nature of TIFF has changed recently. Last weekend, a Toronto newspaper columnist even called it elitist and went on to list a bunch of reasons why the fest wasn’t about the regular people any longer.

I have to say on the whole I find his basic premise spot on. The fest has changed. About five or six years ago when I first started attending it seriously I could buy a ten back of tickets for about a hundred bucks (tax included) and have a reasonable chance at getting in to see just about any film on the schedule. This included some years where I spent some serious time in the Rush Line in the hopes of catching a hot film. Now days I pay north of 160 for that same ten pack and may get none of my first picks if I happen to get a bad box in the random draw.

It’s all changed now. The big venues are more interested in keeping people away, setting up more and more of those crowd control barriers at the larger venues (Roy T and the Elgin). It used to be I could stand in the Rush Line at Roy T and watch the limos pull up and drop the glitterati off. Nowdays I’d have to run a gamut of police officers, photogs, crazed fans and crowd control barriers straight out of Children of Men. Inviting it isn’t.

Then there’s the preferential treatment afforded to ‘Donors’, the price jacking of anything at the Elgin, the ever encroaching presence of big name sponsors, an unhealthy obsession by the media to cover the eating habits of whatever celeb happens to be in town and a general overall feeling that this festival isn’t about having fun anymore.

It’s about setting up a pecking order for those with enough money and influence to jump the line and get in to all the hot parties. Its about business and doing deals and getting sponsors ships and the prestigious of a permanent office on Queen Street (the sponsorally named Bell Lightbox)

I guess the only question have is ‘What took it so long?’

Purge

2008-09-08T09:51:00.000-07:00

So last night was the big clothes purge.

I got rid of nearly two dozen T-shirts, some pitched callously overboard in a desperate bid to save my concert Ts, a double handful of socks, a lone pair of pants, and another lone pair of shorts and a couple long sleeved work shirts I no longer wear. They all went in a big black garbage bag for drop off at the closest Salvation Army. I even managed to chuck a jacket that I don’t wear anymore.

I tried for almost an hour to get rid of an old (p)leather motorcycle jacket that absolutely doesn’t suit me but I love nonetheless. In the end I tucked it back in the closet, secure in the knowledge that I’ll go through the same dance with it the next time I do a clothes purge.

For the first time in years there is space in the closet. Which of course only served to remind me of the other clothes I want, but put off buying due to wedding related expenses (MEC jacket, plain black T’s, new pair of sports shorts and some replacement dri-fit)

Chris does TIFF: Is There Anybody There? edition

2008-09-07T14:22:00.000-07:00

Is There Anybody There?
September 7th, 3pm
Ryerson Theatre

10 year old Edward, Bill Milner from Son of Rambow, lives with his parents in a family run nursing home. Life hasn't been very easy for him as of late. His old bedroom is now the property of aging geriatrics, his classmates don't think very much of him and his parents' relationship is slowly breaking apart under the financial and emotional toil of caring after the elderly. To escape the death that surrounds him everyday Edward becomes obsessed with the afterlife and contacting those from beyond the grave in order to figure out what dying is really like.

Into his life lurches Clarence, (Michael Caine from lots of interesting movies you should probably watch), an aged former magician who is tragically unable to put the death of his wife behind him. When Edward saves Clarence during a failed suicide the young boy attempts to befriend the octogenarian in the hopes of finding out what its really like when people die.

What follows next is a fairly predictable, but no less touching and heartwarming, story of two outcasts who seem to have no one in life but each other. Caine, a wonderfully gifted character actor, is remarkably restrained in his performance in this film, but his pain and guilt at the loss of his wife manages to burst through his reserved exterior nonetheless. Even late in his career this talented actor shows that he can do more with a few subtle eyes gestures than some performers can achieve over their entire life. This is award winning stuff we're watching here.

Sadly, the friendship of Clarence and Edward cannot last. Clarence begins to suffer from the onset of senility and drifts further and further away from Edward as his mind starts to fail him.

Director John Crowley is remarkably adept at manipulating emotions throughout this movie. He is able to find the warmth and humour in this tragic tale, without ever turning the film into a comical farce or falling prey to the over-the-top melodramatics that a less gifted director might lean on. By resisting the urge to hold the audience's hand and lead us directly to the film's message, Crowley allows the audience to discover it on their own by respecting their abilty to read between the lines.

The power of this film stems directly from the strength of its characters. Their struggle to come to terms with their lot in life is so simple and honest that the audience cannot help but to emphasize with their pain. And even though they may not all be able to find happiness for themselves, there always seems to be a helping hand to pick them up after they've fallen.

Festival Cup: Post game highlights

2008-09-06T15:09:00.001-07:00

So S and I went to the inaugural Festival Cup last night at the ACC.

It was an interesting event, a roughly equal mix of celebrities types and professional hockey players. We got to sit right up front, which is a prospect that S and I are unlikely to enjoy at a Leaf game anytime soon (not being budding multi-millionaires of course)

But for the 36 bucks a pop we got to see Sundin on the ACC ice, one last time, as well as Gilmour, Stajan, Avery, Robataille, and Cujo. If I had one complaint it would be that the game was almost a little too relaxed. I know this is a charity game and some of these players would be out a lot of money if they were seriously hurt. But it wouldn’t kill you to hustle after the puck and scrap a little bit in the corners would you?

Being energetic doesn’t necessarily mean you have to be rough. Just keep in mind that no one’s paying money to watch people skate around out there like its open ice night at their local arena.

What was kind of wank though was how they game was obviously pre-destined to end in a shoot out. With about fifteen seconds left in the game the ‘White’ team accidentally scored and you could tell from the ‘oh shit’ look on the scorer’s face that he knew he wasn’t supposed to do that. But the refs called back the goal and we were all treated to some amusing antics from Cujo during the shoot out as he flopped back and forth on the ice, bending over backwards so that some of the shooters would get a goal.

Things I enjoyed

Tim Robbins getting accidentally smoked by his own teammate.
Cujo playing the puck end to end on the ice.
Sean Avery getting booed every time he was on camera or on the ice
D.B. Sweeney. (toepick)
Tim Robbins getting in a faux-fistfight
The standing ‘O’ for Sundin (come back Mats)
Spezza getting his balls busted by the announcer
Jim Basille scoring a goal.

Things I did not

Dougie Gilmour only playing one shift, WTF?
The new Leaf ‘goal scored’ animation.
The idiots behind me (Is that Bobby Orr? I could kick Cujo’s ass)

Overall I had a good time and if they try this event next year, I think I could be persuaded to do it again.

Chris does TIFF: Sky Crawlers edtion

2008-09-06T09:53:00.000-07:00

Sky Crawlers
9am
Ryerson Theatre

Sky Crawlers, directed by Mamoru Oshii (Ghost in the Shell), tells the story of a not-so-distant future where genetically modified children fight never-ending World War II type air battles at the bidding of faceless multinational corporations.

If you think that sounds exciting and full of adventure and drama, you’d be absolutely wrong. There is some dog fighting at the very beginning and a larger invasion a little later on, but this film is primarily an introspective character piece. The action scenes take back seat to the film’s character development.

The story deals with the arrival of a new ace fighter pilot, Cairn, as he attempts to fit in at his newly assigned airfield.

The plot is carefully structured, with precise measured beats. Information is released in dribs and drabs, for example much is intimated about the bases’ sordid history but never explicitly stated, even at the very end. Every time you think a key piece of information is going to be delivered the director chooses to dance around the subject matter rather than approach it directly. In the end, you’re reduced to piecing together a story entirely from an absence of information.

It’s like being given a jigsaw puzzle, but with no final picture to assemble from. You know the pieces are supposed to fit each other, you’re just not quite sure how.

The film attempts to delve into some interesting interlocking philosophical concepts about the nature of youth, war and the modern corporation. But ultimately this deep introspection means the film appeals to an audience primarily on an intellectual level and never really connects with the viewer emotionally.

I enjoyed the film, slow pacing and all, but I’d hesitate before recommending it to a larger audience. If you need your anime to be ultra-violent and shoot’em up, this is not the film for you. But if you can appreciate a slow, methodical story that asks you to think a little bit about the way the world around you is developing, then I can think of worse ways to spend your time on a Saturday morning.

Friday Night

2008-09-05T10:51:00.000-07:00

Who has two thumbs and is going to the Festival Cup tonight?

This Guy.

Cleaning house

2008-09-05T10:48:00.000-07:00

The great purge continues…albeit veeeeerrrrrry slowly.

It’s official. Our little dwelling has run out of space. Prime culprit? Yours truly. I’ve brought in more books, DVDs and comics then our living space can currently contain. Unfortunately, I’m biologically incapable of getting rid of anything, a trait that I come by honestly. My mother has a problem with pack rat-ism that has gotten so bad, my parents are restricted to living in only one room of their house, the rest of it being stacked floor to ceiling with junk.

Things have come to a head in our own place with the influx of wedding related giftery. And while many of these generous gifts are meant to replace things we already own (pots and pans, dishes, etc.) we haven’t yet managed to squeeze the time out of our schedules to begin that replacement process.

I’ve been sorting and purging my comics for the last couple months and I’m starting to see the results of that decision in my purchasing habits. The light weeks are becoming more prevalent as I make the tough choices about what to buy and what to leave on the shelves.

A couple days ago I took a crack at my books, pulling nearly two dozen titles from my bookshelves in preparation for a visit to the used bookstore. A process I equate to ripping your own arm off and beating yourself in the face with it. Unfortunately, I suffered a setback on this front last night after stopping by Scottie’s for a round of video games. I ended up with leaving with a small handful of TPB’s that Scott earmarked for disposal. Scottie, FYI, is a purging master. That guy knows what he wants to keep and what has got to go. He has no sentimentality whatsoever about keeping something he’s not sure about. And since I have so much trouble letting things go, its awe inspiring to watch him at work.

Next up is the big purge, clothing. Its not that I’m attached to my old clothes that I don’t wear anymore (concert T’s notwithstanding) its just that I’m a sentimental bastard who can’t bear to part with anything. Although a tipping point was reached when I realized that I was taking up more closet space then my wife.

Truly, a milestone to be proud of

Hockey Talk

2008-09-03T08:50:00.000-07:00

Some Hockey Talkery as Steve and I dissect the future of the Toronto Maple Leafs…for only the tenth time this week.

Steve:
this guy is a shock writer who isn't seeing a bigger picture... We will get all the draft picks back at the trade deadline...when other teams are making their push for the playoffs and/or cup, and we are sitting near the bottom, we will become sellers...we will have the big fast D that teams will want heading into the playoffs, and that will give us the chance to reacquire our draft picks.

I think Fletch is doing a bang up job...we have a big D in place and they will develop over this season, and hopefully a few of our young forwards will turn into something and then we add a big UFA with all the cash we have now and suddenly we look good again in 2 years....

Chris:
TML are going about this all bass-ackwards.

Build a team through drafting and developing.

Steve:
didnt you read what I said?
we are getting all these young big strong D players and will sell them off at trade deadline and get our picks back...

this way we get rid of our losing core, bring in some youth and let the cream rise to the top...the rest gets traded off for picks and we get more youth...

this is building through the draft...

Chris:
No that's what you think will happen, that's what you hope will happen.

But we have no idea if that's what will ACTUALLY happen.

Could be these guys will all turn out to be fantastically mediocre and that there's no real demand for them at the trade deadline. Then we've lost picks and we're stuck with a losing team.

A pick in the hand is worth two in the bush.

Steve:
but without doing what Fletcher has done, we would have the same guys on this team for the 4th year in a row... the team needs to change...we cant keep going with the same crap and hope that they will all magically bond THIS year! it's a painful process, but at least there is a direction...listen to all the interviews...look at who is being brought in... with Wilson at the helm, and all the big defensive players we are getting, it is obvious that we are heading into a trapping, hard backchecking era...getting away from the run and gun style of the past 5 years...

about time!

Chris:
There's nothing obvious about it.

They're making questionable trades because they're worried about how the team looks (McCabe) rather than how they actually produce on the ice.

They're trading away the future on the hopes and prayers than down the road they'll be able to get something at the trade deadlines. (No guarantees there whatsoever)

They're screwing around in the front office (Fletcher) hoping that Burke will somehow weasel his way out of his contract and come to Toronto...the land of milk and honey...just because he wants to be closer to his kids.

COME ON!!!!!

Change is necessary. Change for the sake of change, especially when it's not thought out, can be more harmful then helpful.

Steve:
totally disagree...they have thought this through for sure... we have guys like Antropov that can be traded if some of our newer guys don't shape up...we still have assets and so what if they are trying to get Burke...wouldn't be the worst thing to do.

We have a great coach, have a hired a whole new (and well respected) scouting team and finally have a roster filled with youth rather than overpaid aging vets that dont really show up every night.

Chris:
Look at how you're talking.

You're looking at the team primarily from the standpoint of assets.

Tradeable assets. You've already conceded any hope of having a competitive season.

Steve:
no I haven't...
we will be a rough team to play against...we will punish a lot of forwards coming into our zone..it will be great to watch... Do I think we will win the cup with this roster? no...but do I think we will be fun to watch...YES! We will pull out some wins based on defence alone...I am waiting to see if out forwards can produce more this year than in years past... guys like Blake and Stajan need to really pick things up in order for this to be a successful year...

but I also realise that we need to go backwards to go forwards...if we end up with another high draft pick, it wouldn't be the worst thing for us.. look at Pittsburgh or Philly or Chicago..they all went down, got some good draft picks, loaded up on youth and then in 2-3 years are either fighting for the cup, or are well on their way...

that's where the Leafs are headed...

Chris:
It's too early to make that call. I think their lack of goal scorers is their biggest problem.

D helps you hold on to wins, it doesn't score goals for you.

Declaration of Principles

2008-09-02T14:01:00.001-07:00

Hey!

So what kind of blog is this going to be?

Every morning I scan through a prodigious amount of bloggery on a number of different subjects. For me blogs that are done well, and are interesting to read, are the ones that pick a specific subject and then adhere to that topic as closely as possible. I’ve been banging out a blog with varying degrees of success for a couple years now. But for the most part, it’s all been pretty random, stream of conscious stuff with some comic book laced overtones. That’s not the kind of blog I want to write anymore.

So what kind of blog is this going to be?

I could make this a blog about comics. But frankly, the world needs another blog about comic books like I need prune juice enema.

I could make this a blog solely about shit that is going on in my life. But that’s only good readings if you know me personally, have an unhealthy interest in listening to me bitch about how everything pisses me off or if I had an exceedingly interesting life. Frankly we’re just not that close.

Personal finance blog? Let me sum that up for you. I do all right, but I always wish I had some more scratch….and out dated slang.

Books, movies, music review blog? Who wouldn’t want to listen to another uninformed opinion? And trust me, my opinions are among the most uninformed out there.

In the end, I decided to ignore my observations. I’m not going pick a specific subject and adhere to it as closely as I can. I’m going to talk about any and every thing that I feel is worth talking about. That means I could write about anything from comic books, to my irrational fear of flying to my growing interest in environmentalism.

In the end, I’m looking for more than just a platform to scream about the stuff that bothers me. Sometimes I’m looking for a frank and open discussion about a weighty subjects, sometimes I just want to nerd out and talk about Transformers.

I promise to try and blog everyday. And let me tell you right now, I will horribly fail that goal before the week is out. But I still promise to try.

So what kind of blog is this going to be?

I don’t know really. It’ll be a blog about me I suppose. Hopefully something interesting and insightful, but only time will tell.

Blog on.

Break time is O-VAH!

2008-08-26T13:27:00.000-07:00

And so, I’m back…from outer space.

Still getting acclimatized to my looming work deadlines and overflowing inbox.

Will this picture suffice, with the promise of more interesting blog type material to come?

Let me know.

Dear Amanda Palmer

2008-08-06T13:38:00.000-07:00

I wish I could see you play at your latest concert.

I like your music an awful lot and unfortunately I missed you on your last tour through town.

But I'm getting married and that means I'll be very busy that night.

I know you'll understand, because you seem pretty cool like that. But I just wanted you to know anyway.

But I'll see you next time you play.

That's a promise

Last comic standing

2008-07-31T19:56:00.000-07:00

Poor Sean Cullen.

Kicked off Last comic standing. Admittedly, I didn't find his material to be the funniest of all the contestants.

But I do think he's funny nonetheless and you gotta root for the hometown boy.

So congrats on getting as far as you did Sean and I'm sorry you couldn't make it further.

Packing for Honeymoon

2008-07-31T10:59:00.001-07:00

A rough list. I want to keep it small, I hate having to lug around to much stuff. It just seems wasteful to spend all that time and money carting clothes back and forth across the ocean.

Unlike Ireland I'm doubting I'll be purchasing too many clothes.

Shorts (2 pair?)
T-Shirts (4 pair?)
Long sleeve\ button up shirts (2 pair?)
Pants (1 pair)
Jeans (1 pair)
Bathing Suit
Socks
Underwear
Sandals
Good shoes
Running shoes (I don’t really want to bring 3 pairs of shoes)

Sometimes you feel like a nut,

2008-07-29T10:45:00.000-07:00

Taw-rana.

If you noticed a bitter scent in the air last night it’s probably because the nuts were out in full force.

I was walking up Queen West to pick up some dinner for S and I when I came across a little tiff between a bicyclist and a car driver, who’d nearly had a collision with each other.

Both were fine, but a largish crowd had gathered to watch the sparks fly between the two combatants.

The cyclist was gamely trying to explain what had happened to the slack-jawed rubberneckers, such as myself, while the dick in the car was calling the cyclist, and anyone else who attempted to step in, a p@ssy. From what I could tell the car had apparently gotten a little to close to the biker and nearly run him into a parked car. Having biked that narrow stretch of road lots of times, I fully understand that danger.

The crowd was nearly as colourful as the shouting match, throwing in their two cents and trying to instigate some sort of showdown between the two of them, you could tell that more than a few onlookers were hoping for a physical confrontation.

Anyway, I didn’t see who did what, so I can’t lay blame at anyone’s feet. But I will say that the driver of the car didn’t seem too interested in any sort of a balanced conversation. He was quite content to just rage at the world in general.

With the heat wave that’s supposed to be rolling through town just in time for the annual Toronto Caribana Festival I suspect that these kinds of fiery confrontations are going to become commonplace over the next couple of days.

Which is precisely why I’m blowing this popsicle stand.

Your honour, I’d like to enter a plea of ‘boys will be boys’.

2008-07-28T14:07:00.000-07:00

Edited for the reading pleasure of those with delicate sensibilities. More quotes to potentially come as bachelor party participants sober up and reluctantly return to their computers.

1. My (censored) glowed in the dark.
2. Hello there little boys
3. No running shoes, no sandals, no running shoes, no running shoes ...
4. Let’s go easy tonight so that Saturday can be the real bender.
5. There are only so many back-to-back episodes of “Hannah Montana” that a person can take this early in the morning.
6. One more person get in the cab.
7. That tomato looks like (censored).
8. Shoe, Jeans, Deals, Deals!
9. Senor Pic-canty
10. I’ll never look at a spoon the same way again
11. Stay thirsty my friends
12. Man, Tele-Latino has some crazy stuff on Saturday night.
13. The Casino Niagara Theme Song (BA-daaaaaaa, ba-DAaaaaaaa…)
14. Awwww, man, I just took her head clean off
15. dudedudedudedudedudedudedudedude
16. Here come the meat sweats.
17. I may not know you by Tim Hortons.
18. Why are there two shower heads?

Bachelor Party: Wrap up

2008-07-28T10:58:00.000-07:00

Now that was a bachelor party.

Unfortunately, except for a few rare nuggets, the details of said party shall be forever lost in the mists of time. (What happens in the Falls, stays in the Falls)

But I think I can wrangle up a couple photos, a 'best of' quote list and maybe even a video or two.
Suffice to say that over the course of 72 hours I have never played so many cards, drank, smoked, and engaged in all manner of unhealthy activities that will probably plague me physically and mentally in the years to come, as I did this weekend.

Now to restart my kidneys and my brain.

Six sentence comic book reviews

2008-07-24T10:35:00.001-07:00

Offered without comment.

Trinity #8
The Brave and the Bold #15
Green Lantern Corps #26
Justice League of America #23
Superman #678
Ultimate X-Men #96
Invincible #51
Gravel #3
Black Summer #7

Green Lantern Corps #26

Mongul II, dead and dismembered? Don’t bet your life on it. In this issue Mongul goes head to head with almost the entire cast of the GL Corps. In a predictable battle, but beautifully drawn by Patrick Gleason, Mongul gets his ass handed to him after one of the Lanterns, Bzzd, sacrifices himself to bring down the new Sinestro Corps leader. A rock’em, sock’em, widescreen space opera that absolutely could not be any more enjoyable, highlighting just how much writer Peter Tomasi is on top of his game. Consistently one of the best comics being published right now, by any company.

Black Summer #7

Warren Ellis’ two year old blockbuster comic event comes to an end, and boy does this thing get talky. The surviving female contingent of the Seven Guns decide that helping keep their city safe is more important than taking revenge on the military for killing Tom Noir in cold blood. Horus, Blacksmith and a not-quite-as-dead-as-we-thought Noir then proceed to jaw at the reader for half a dozen pages in an attempt to justify their actions over the course of this series. A good, but somewhat anti-climatic, end to a better than average story. The incessant moralizing by three of the leads, in order to make their character motivations explicit, really pulled me out the tale. I would have preferred to let their actions speak for themselves and avoid spoon feeding me the unnecessary details.

Invincible #51

The Venom years, only without the sentient costume. For a Jim Lee cover I can’t help but feel like I’m not getting my money’s worth. Invincible’s right hand seems to be twisted into some kind of claw shape and there’s no background to speak of. It’s not a bad cover, just not what I’m used to from JL. Anyway, in this ish Invincible gets a new, darker toned costume, a kid sidekick and a girlfriend to boot. A series that continues to live up to the high standard of comic bookery that it has set for itself, if you’re an Invincible fan you’ll find nothing to hate here.

Superman #678

The latest attempt to repatriate a long lost Jack Kirby creation into the DCU proper continues. Atlas, a former hero type turned planetary dictator, shows up in Metropolis in order to challenge Superman for control of the city. The fists then proceed to fly. There’s a pair of obligatory shadowy figure types pulling various strings in the background and Atlas’ backstory is given an appropriate Kirby style visual treatment. There’s an unfamiliar cadence to some of the dialogue in this issue that’s neither good or bad, but pulls me out of the story nonetheless. An admirable attempt at varying the Superman formula a little bit that will keep me onboard with this title, for no other reason that to see how this story plays out.

Surprise party

2008-07-24T08:23:00.000-07:00

I got sucker punched by a surprise party yesterday. I always thought the people in my office were a little slow on the uptake whenever the same thing happened to them.

"Hey you're going on maternity leave tomorrow, that's great. Oh, by the way, we're scheduling a last minute meeting on that day. But don't read anything into it."

My office got both of us a sizable gift certificate to William Ashley. I also got a seperate gift of some expensive cigars to smoke with the boys this weekend. The whole thing was a complete shock. I absolutely didn't see it coming and I was a little humbled when it happened.

Anyway, tomorrow marks the begining of Bachelor party weekend. Paintball, poker and golf. The best man is coming in from Ottawa and bunking on our couch tonight. Of course if you're one of the three people who happen to read this blog. Chances are I'll be seeing you there anyway.

If I'm lucky I'll be able to get up this weeks comic reviews. But I promise nothing.

21st century edge

2008-07-22T11:45:00.000-07:00

The word 'edgy' should be ground into a fine paste and then shat on by a million rabid monkeys.

Condo Corp hi-jinkery

2008-07-22T07:06:00.000-07:00

It looks our dysfunctional condo corp is at it again.

Based on a unspecified number of requests the corp is cutting the party room in half in order to expand the building's gym facilities. This means they're getting rid of the party room pool table, which is the only aspect of the party room I actually used. So the party room will now be the size of a small walk-in closet and only hold a single Foosball table on top of a mini bar fridge stolen from your kid brothers dorm room. I know I can't wait to try it out.

Of course this new construction project, beginning in two weeks, is likely to be a somewhat costly venture. So look to see yet another small increase to your condo fees the next time they come up to renewal.

Actually, when you consider the building wide wall painting, carpet replacement, new tile floor, underground parking light fixture upgrades and keyless entry retrofits this small increase could actually be quite substantial.

So. To recap. Condo corporation, under the guise of good governance, spends residents condo fees like drunken sailors just back from sea, on a multitude of make-work construction projects. Then, bass-ackwards corporation proceeds to raise condo fees to pay for aforementioned unneeded renovations all while rubbing five dollar bills over their naked and bloated bodies.

What really bugs me about this whole process is how they've completely overlooked what the building's tenants think. They've gone and decided on a course of a action, along with a timetable to implement said course of action, but they haven't bothered to seriously poll the building to see how much support there is for this endeavour. And because this thing is already in the works it, and assumed to be going forward, it makes it harder for me, or anyone who agrees with me, to stop it or at least have an open conversation about whether this is what the majority of tenants want.

It's a lot harder to effect a program that's already in motion than it is one that's still in the planning stages. Which is what I suspect the corporation wants, it's just smart politics. If you open up the whole consultation process to the building as a whole, who knows what we might agree to? We could decide that we don't want the gym at all and that the space could be better used as a library. What then?

Better to just commit ourselves to a course of action and deal with any problems as they arise. It's easier than the much more messy and less easily controlled group consultation.

If the majority of the building's tenants want a bigger gym than I'm content to go along with that majority. I don't use the party room enough to really care. But don't tell me an unspecified number of people want a more gym facilities. Is that number 2 or 200?

If you're going to embark on a significant construction project that may have real implications on my condo fees. The absolute least you can do is be open, honest and transparent about what you are doing and why. And that includes giving me an opportunity to disagree with your decision.

Vehicular Homicide

2008-07-21T10:27:00.001-07:00

What a weekend.

After a quick round of early morning golf with the boys on Saturday, in temperatures approaching records not even seen on the planet Mercury, I raced home to pick up S so we could knock off a couple wedding related errands, such as getting our international driver’s licenses and meeting with the DJ to iron out our all important ‘Do Not Play’ list.

(Macarena, YMCA, the chicken dance and the entire works of John Denver)

We weren’t in the car five minutes when the radio starts to cut out on us and S notices that the power windows were really sluggish. At this point a strange tone starts to creep into her voice and she starts giving me ‘the look’.

We bought a new used car about 9 months ago. It wasn’t even five years old at the time, didn’t have a ridiculous amount of mileage on it and was thoroughly vetted by S’s Cuz, who just happens to be a mechanic. Despite all of these elements working in the car’s favour, S has a nasty habit of hearing phantom noises and thinking that the car is on the verge of some sort of massive mechanical failure. An idea that I’ve done my level best to assure her could never happen.

Except now it’s actually happening and all bets are off.

“What did you do the car?” says S, instantly discarding my weak and feeble protestations of “nothing”.

“You were the last person to drive it,” she reminds me. “You must have noticed something.”

At this point in time the radio dies on us completely and on the advice of her cousin, hastily reached via his cell, we decide to get off the road and take ourselves to the nearest Crappy Tire before the car calls it a day. Cuz tells us the alternator is most likely shot, but the upside is it’s an easy fix and most likely we can be back on the road the same day.

The Canadian Tire mechanic is thoroughly unimpressed with the fact that Cuz is quarterbacking us through the entire process. As some mechanics are wont to do they try to hit us up for unnecessary parts and excessive labour costs and seem a little peeved that we have a better-than-average understanding of what is going on.

Rule number one. You don’t screw with S. She deals with blood and death and hysterics for a living so it takes a lot to throw her off her game. Trying to bulldoze her into thinking a one hour job takes twice as long as Cuz says it will is only going to guarantee your very public and very humiliating verbal disembowelment.

My job in this little comedy of errors is to preach moderation and to remind S that if we dig our heels in too much, we may get the alternator fixed but they might also take three weeks to do it and when they finally do give the car back to us we’ll end up dead in a ditch somewhere because they’ve cut our brake lines.

Yes I know its inherently wrong to suggest rolling over like this. But we’ve got less than a month before we get married and in that time we need to be mobile. So we can’t afford to be without wheels for an hour, much less a couple days. If we had an infinite amount of time and money I’d be standing right next to S, handing her the sharpened knife as she slowly filets the mechanic for his condescending attitude. But we don’t. So I try to be a moderating influence, settle for only being screwed a little bit (just the tip) and ensure that no one leaves this little transaction happy.

In the end, we missed our appointment with the DJ, somehow managed to get our international driver’s license, depleted our wedding fund to pay for the repairs and then collapsed at home on the couch in an impromptu nap session, thoroughly exhausted by the trials of the day.

And all this before bachelorette party began.

More on that later.

Flashpoint: Redux

2008-07-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

Despite half a dozen cups of coffee, my morning caffeine has yet penetrate the fog that has settled on to my thoughts. So instead of a post outlining the high and low points of my weekend, of which there are many, enjoy some mindless review-ery instead.

Here are some more thoughts on Flashpoint, then we can stick this sucker on ‘simmer’ for a few months before potentially re-visiting the show.

1. Hugh Dillon is still smiling too much! There’s something to be said for being an actor who handle a broad range of emotion. But at the same time, you’ve got to dance with the one that brung you.

2. Actually, overall, the show still needs more grit. Throw in some realism won’t you? The leading cast is far too balanced and normal to be cops. Where’s the alcoholism? The sexist asshole who doesn’t believe that women should be a part of the team? Where is the inter-squad tension? People are too nice and too polite here, yes their manners are too Canadian dammit.

3. The show has a bit of a case of the CSI’s, more focused on the procedural aspect of hostage negotiation and looking good while doing it. Hell we’ve even got the pre-requisite, montage of events over sappy music at the end. Not sure if this is a criticism, or just an observation.

4. There was a moment last night where Henry Czerny tried to fire his gun into the ceiling to make everyone back off and the safety happened to be on. That brief instant, and the character reactions it highlighted, defined the whole series for me.

5. Timmy’s name dropping.

6. All my information about how cops handle situations like this comes from American television. There were about a dozen instances during last night’s episode where the cops clearly had the drop on Czerny (lethal or otherwise) and didn’t take it. I caught myself noticing this and wondered, with the show’s heavy pre-occupation with procedural accuracy, which method do cops actually use?

Overall, a solidly written and acted second episode. I still think they need to refine the formula a little better. The show is good but with a little more focus giving on giving its production values a bit more of a realistic polish

Bachelorette Par-tay

2008-07-18T09:28:00.000-07:00

S’s bachelorette party is tomorrow night.

I’m really curious to find out what kind of trouble she’s going to get up to. When we first started going out S used to regale me with all these stories about how her work friends were the ultimate party animals. These booze soaked adventures were always outlandish, over the top and spoken of in the deepest reverential tones.

Yet whenever I met members of this group (weddings, Christmas parties…weddings) it was apparent by the number of swollen bellies in the crowd that their heavy partying days were in the past. So instead of Courtney Love, I got to meet Martha Stewart, only minus the jail time.

But tomorrow, in a much requested revival tour, the husbands will be left at home with the children and the women will finally paint the town red again.

S has been handed a list of various tawdry items that she will be expected to bring to her party leaving only the sickest and most depraved imaginations, such as my own, to concoct a convoluted game plan that justifies their usage.

(A health card, really?)

Just like the Polka-roo the myth of the RT party animal will be just that, something often heard about, but rarely seen.

Six sentence comic book reviews

2008-07-17T10:25:00.000-07:00

A light week for comic books. And unfortunately not a very satisfying one.

Trinity #7
Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge #1
Flash #242
Hellblazer #246
Captain America #40
Ultimate Fantastic Four #56

Final Crisis: Rogues’ Revenge #1

Now THIS is what a Flash comic should read like. Oh, it’s not a Flash comic, it’s a Final Crisis tie-in? The premise behind this mini-series is that four of the Flash’s rogues gallery, Heatwave, Captain Cold, Weather Wizard and Mirror Master, have decided to give up a life of crime, but not before they pull one last heist, er, murder to atone for their role in the death of Bart Allen. After the end of his phenomenal run on the Flash solo title three years ago, it’s great to see Geoff Johns back in the driver’s seat writing the Rogues again. He’s able to transform this band of criminal misfits into complex characters, with a semblance of their Silver Age sensibilities, instead of just another bunch of gritty thugs. It’s enough to make a fanboy yearn for the heady days of 2005 when Johns was still working with these characters on a regular basis.

Captain America #40

I feel uncomfortable sometimes reviewing some Marvel comics because I’m not versed enough in the minutiae of their universe to make judgement calls on some of their creative directions. This universe just doesn’t have the same history and emotional resonance with me that the DC stable of characters has. In fact I initially only picked up this title because I wanted to take a look at what Alex Ross had done in Cap’s costume redesign. But I stayed because I’m enjoying how Brubaker is developing and redefining the Captain America mythos, pulling in disparate elements from across the character’s long publishing history. It’s unfortunate that the return of Steve Rogers is practically pre-ordained as Marvel has pulled off an excellent character transition here in the manner of a DC-esque legacy hero. That being said, once this particular story arc is finished, this title will be dropped from my pull list.

Ultimate Fantastic Four #56

What always appealed to me about the Ultimate universe is that it retold classic Marvel U stories in a streamlined fashion, without the baggage of decades of continuity. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your point of view, that well seems to have run dry and the universe chugs along on its own now, only occasionally checking in on the properties that birthed it. Which means that its just like any other regular Marvel title and I’m having problems figuring out why I should care about the Ultimate line anymore. To be honest, Ultimate Fantastic Four is the worst offender of the bunch. Ultimate Spidey and X-Men do a much better job staying true to their roots. In this issue, if you can keep your eyelids pried open, the FF fight a seven headed uber-germ based on the mythical Hydra.

Flash #242

The saga of Wally’s children continues. Iris continues to age rapidly and the West family is helpless to stop it. A last ditch effort to turn back the clock, thanks to some help from the Nzame of Gorilla City, ends in disaster as Iris prematurely ages to her death. I think this is purely a temporary comic death here. It’s meant as a convenient excuse to push Wally over the edge and have the character do something he regrets. Perhaps there’s another Flash standing in the wings who could take over for him?

Now get thee to a nunnery.

Post Script

2008-07-16T11:40:00.000-07:00

While I'm on the subject...

It's refreshing to know that some people you may not have heard from in years, will still drop everything and come running when they hear you're getting married.

That's friendship.

These aren't a few of my favourite things

2008-07-16T07:37:00.000-07:00

It’s getting close to the big day and the topic that most people seem to be wondering about is if I’m nervous or stressed yet.

Um. With a couple exceptions the answer is no.

Marriage itself? Well I wouldn’t have asked in the first place if I didn’t want it.

Planning the wedding? I’ve organized enough film shoots, stage plays, and last years award show for work, to be comfortable enough with the logistics of planning this kind of thing. It’s never fun but I don’t find it particularly stressful either. The basics are pretty much the same.

Full disclosure: S is the lead planner for this event. I’m pot scrubber and chief bottle washer, throwing out opinions left, right and center, but essentially (unsuccessfully) trying to keep myself from getting in the way of her planning.

We’ve also been fairly lucky that our family and friends have been there to lend a hand when they can and so far nobody has made any outrageous requests of us.

No, the most stressful part of the wedding planning has been some guests.

Early on we adopted a no-children policy for the reception. Kids are absolutely welcome to attend the ceremony but we wanted to give people a more adult wedding reception. S and I have both been to weddings where parents spent the majority of their time chasing after screaming children and then have to leave early to get the kiddies to bed. We wanted to avoid that aspect of it all.

With a couple rare exceptions most people seem to be support this choice. Unfortunately the exceptions have been notable in their declaration of abstentia, making us fully aware that it is our policy that is keeping them away. This can be a bit tough to take. Of course we’d like to have them attend. And we absolutely understand their reasons for not being able to come.

It’s the ripple effects that bother me. Couple A chooses not to attend, so they put pressure on Couple B to pass up on the reception as well, in a show of support. They’re trying to make us feel crappy about our decision. The people close to you always know which buttons to push to get a reaction.

There are other political games that we have to play. The seating chart was one of them, dealing with personality conflicts between groups of friends another. Hey, just because they’re your friend, doesn’t mean they have to like, tolerate or make nice with each other.

It’d be nice to think that the world would shelve their personal problems for a day in order to celebrate our wedding. But unfortunately it doesn’t really work like that. It’s the rare human being who is able to rise above it all when the circumstances aren’t to their liking.