Passion of the Dale

Noises Off

2008-07-22T17:32:00.009-04:00

As I sat on the deck looking for clouds in my coffee a few mornings ago, a small noise niggled at my eardrums.  I couldn't quite place it (a baby? a bird?) and then it stopped, allowing a return to my regularly scheduled deep thinking.

After a moment or two, I glanced to my right and was surprised to see a black and white kitten beside my chair, no doubt the source of the earlier noise.  I'm not sure how motionless I'd been to that point but the mere act of turning my head startled the poor thing into scampering away to safety (I hope!).

Last night while sitting out, I heard another odd noise, this time, a dull scratching sound.  After a quick investigation, I realized it was coming from inside the downspout attached to the side of the house.  Might it be my little kitten with a whip in distress?  Looking at how small the end of the drain was, I settled on it likely being a bird or mouse with a terrible sense of direction.

As I'd not done a good deed in a number of days, I decided to try and free the source of the noise.  I detached the long arm of the drain that extends into the yard to keep water away from the house but the noise was definitely coming from further up the pipe.  With probably not enough care, I teetered from the seat of a chair onto the rail of the deck, reached into the eaves and snaked a garden hose into the drain opening.  I got down without breaking my neck or my stride and turned the water on gently so as not to drown whatever had Baby Jessica'd itself in there.

The water began running through.  Nothing...nothing...some muck...nothing...more muck and then...a small stick.  No, not a stick, it moved!  A leg?  Could it be a tiny leg?  My heart raced as I imagined starring in a very special episode of The X Files.  Then what looked to be a large clump of dirt started coming through the open end of the drain and after a great plunk, I had my answer.  The clump was actually a rather large frog.  It tucked its errant leg back into position and sat there, traumatized but breathing.

I turned the hose off and we stared at each other, neither of us sure of the protocol.  A couple of minutes into this, I decided it was my move.  Picking up a watering can and emptying it slowly over the frog, I washed away his sins and helped him find his legs again.  As he hopped off into the bushes leaving me to my mild revulsion, I wondered when to expect the locusts.

What I Didn't Do On My Summer Vacation

2008-07-21T15:31:00.001-04:00

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Spoiler Alert

2008-06-27T11:17:00.005-04:00

As I've said befor e, I rarely take a sick day from work and that's still the case. Rather than say I'm too busy to write, I'm going to cash in a few sick days and use them here. Weather permitting, I'll be back in a few weeks.

Stay warm, dry and safe my friends. Love and comments to you all.

Strange Days Indeed

2008-06-21T21:12:00.006-04:00

I spent about 4 minutes of last Monday wondering if the roof of the house was going to cave in on me. It was quite frightening considering how loud it was, much louder than it sounds on the video. Of course, watching the news about all the devastating flooding in the U.S. and weather issues elsewhere quickly put things into perspective for me.

Have a look:

Hail to the er, hai l!

..

Singing Just For Me

2008-06-14T11:09:00.019-04:00

Friday the 13th turned out to be quite lucky for me. I added another entry to my book of dreams by seeing Laurie Anderson in her Homeland show, part of this year's Luminato Festival.

From the time I was introduced to her opus United States by a university radio pal, I'd wanted to see her perform live but somehow, never managed it. This time, I was at the ready and secured 3rd row seats where there was little to distract me. I won't even mention the girl beside me who slept soundly through most of the show, apparently tired from having spent the first few songs making out with her boyfriend.

I'd read that Homeland was built around themes of fear, obsession and paranoia in America post 9/11 and was a little apprehensive. Would it be too dark and dire? Too like my heart? Could I bear it? I worried needlessly.

In and among the serious and reflective was a lot of humour, artistry and deft commentary. Aim was taken at Al Gore's trophy case, Oprah's couch, John McCain and several other worthy targets. She also ruminated on a variety of subjects from the beginning of memory to billboard underwear models and set it all to compelling music.

There were bursts of pounding energy and moments made for closing your eyes and feeling the universe expand (without the need for medication). There were songs and stories, some in Laurie's own voice and some run through her voice enhancer which provided surprising nuance. Sitting in with the accomplished band (percussionist Joey Baron, keyboard wiz Rob Burger and bassist Greg Cohen) for the last few numbers was none other than the legendary Lou Reed. It was a real treat to see and hear him play along and sing.

The set was simple with a few bare bulbs hanging and scores of small white candles arranged around the stage. While wrapped in Ms. Anderson's warm electronic embrace, I took them to be planets and stars (perhaps the need for medication?).

Although the show was conceived as one continuous piece, ovations and praise found their way in whenever possible. While it would have been wonderful to have an encore, I felt the integrity of the piece was better maintained without it. Watching the players carefully tiptoe through the array of candles for three bows was an end fitting enough for me.

Apart from the thrill of seeing and enjoying the show so much, the people-watching was of course exquisite. Rarely have I seen so many inflicting so much very personal style on the rest of us. I'll just call them Strange Angels and be done with it.

Thank you Laurie Anderson for a most excellent evening and I hope to see you again soon.

Madras As Hell

2008-06-11T14:00:00.004-04:00

Madras patchwork clothing should be outlawed. It looks horrible on everyone. If you must wear it, please ensure that you are on acid and ready to share.

I'll Cut Me!

2008-06-10T10:58:00.007-04:00

Standing in line at the bank machine this morning (I simply adore standing in any sort of line), a man and a woman were chatting behind me so of course, I had to listen in.

She said "I rode in with her on the train this morning and I thought I was going to have to slit my fucking wrists!'.

I turned and chuckled and she said to me "Too dramatic?" "No, I know just how you feel", I replied. "Oh, you must know her" and they went back to talking.

Proof that I'm not alone in the universe.

This also ties in nicely with Barbara's review of an interesting sounding film Wristcutters: A Love Story.

.

Riding The Rails or Bang Crunch

2008-06-08T11:13:00.005-04:00

It's audio blog time again on Passion of the Dale, now that I can speak again. After a trying several hours, I'm back on track and ready to roll (my eyes at least).

Click the play button on my GCast player (Let's Go Audio) on my sidebar and listen in on another episode from this small life.

Please note, this one involves an unholy trinity of ennui, booze and dentistry. Oh, and Ambassador Brad!

The End of the Line

2008-06-02T15:24:00.009-04:00

Friday marked the end of yet another era in my life - I endured a long goodbye from the Elvis train conductor's who'd been reigning over my (in)sanity.

The company that runs the commuter trains we good, bad and indifferent citizens use has changed hands and so there's been a change in staff starting today. Don't worry about poor Elvis lite though, he'll still be employed, just on another line. He chitted and chatted quite a bit over the 40 minute ride home on Friday but knowing it was his last ride, I was barely agitated.

One of the things I won't miss is the way he had of calling out the stops. One of them, Old Cummer (not named after me), he'd drag out interminably so it was more like Ooooooooooooooooooooooold Cummer", funny once but never again. As we pulled in to the last stop, he got back on the horn and said Elvis has left the building, thank ya thank ya very much.

There were no tears to be wiped from my eye although had there been, they would have been made of hope and joy.

I'm giving the new guy two days before I can find some horror, real or imagined, to complain about.

X Factor

2008-05-27T20:26:00.007-04:00

Whenever I attend a presentation at work, part of the fun is hearing the mind numbingly stupid questions people ask highlighting that they haven't been listening. Yes, there are stupid questions and usually, they're asked by some pretty stupid or at least inattentive people.

Often, the presenter will hand out an evaluation questionnaire at the end of the session. Today, the presenter gave them out before she'd even started. So far, your driving's excellent Miss Presenter!

My attention was drawn to the layout and wording of the evaluation. It asked questions about how relevant the information was to your job and requested that you Place a check mark (X) in the box beside your desired response.

There was a comment section as well and I couldn't resist (well, I could have) letting her know that an X is not a check mark. It was my random act of ~~assholishness~~ kindness for the day.

Do You Hear What I Hear? (An Audio Post)

2008-05-25T19:42:00.015-04:00

If you're like me, you need help. If you're not like me but wonder how magic can almost happen on the weekend, I've got just the thing.

Okay, maybe it's not just the thing but if you've got 55 seconds to spare, you're in for quite a thrill ride.

Alright, it's not a thrill ride at all but for sure, it'll tell you something about my brain.

Head on over to the Let's Go Audio GCast player on my sidebar (look to your right under the bumblebee) and listen in.

In A (Four Day) New York Minute

2008-05-23T08:43:00.008-04:00

Last weekend was lovely, not only because it was a long weekend here in Canadaland but also because I got to spend time in one of my favourite places, New ~~Jack~~ York City. While there, I barely had time to complain about my hotel room, change rooms and then change hotels entirely, take in three shows of varying quality, shop, drink, eat my body weight and then walk it all off.

I got to see my pals Coaster Punchman and Poor George, Chelene and Beckeye, all who remain wonders of the world. Beckeye and Chelene have blogged their point / counterpoint on Xanadu so I’ll just mention my disappointment with The Country Girl (well chronicled here by Esther and Steve, two bloggers I've recently been enjoying). Frances McDormand and Morgan Freeman while wonderful to see, were not at their most captivating. Peter Gallagher however was on point and he and his eyebrows did some fine acting.

The prize for unplanned but incredible event was seeing Gypsy starring Patti Lupone. One word: mesmerizing. Another word: spellbinding. Third word: electric. The whole show was excellent and the entire cast worked and played their hearts out. I lucked into some 2nd row centre seats and locked eyes with several of the principals which while thrilling was off-putting - what if my perma-grin made them break character wondering what I was up to? I give this production 4 Mama Roses (out of 4)!

Now I'm back to the real world and at work. I'm heading off in a minute to Gilligan's Island for a 3 hour meeting. I'll do my best to provide the laugh track because I'm certain there's no hope of rescue.

Beautiful Garbage

2008-05-22T18:25:00.008-04:00

There's seems to be a lot more art hanging around the city than there used to be and I notice more of it each time I decide not to litter.

Garbage and recycling bins around the downtown core have been festooned by Canadian artists courtesy of an outfit called Magenta. They're doing a swell job at supporting the arts and emerging talent.

Stopping for a moment longer than it takes to dispose of my coffee cup teaches me a little bit more about the participants and their vision, easier done since a blurb about them is printed on the sides of the bins.

Rather than just trash talking all the time, may I take this quiet moment to say that I love it when ideas like this take hold? A sampling of what I'm talking about can be found here.

Way to go world!

Time The Avenger

2008-05-20T07:49:00.007-04:00

Life can be so fast paced that slowing down seems like a concession. I don't generally confront this fact until forced to, as when I find myself walking behind a group of older people.

Look at them, so dear and so wise. They may not smell like you and me but they know more than just how to crowd a sidewalk. They're in the most important footrace but still manage to savour each moment as they make their way.

Someday, that'll be me - stealth no longer mine, my body a network of betrayal. Then my instincts take over. A couple of well placed kicks and canes and limbs go flying. I laugh along my way to new adventures and know they barely have time to even wonder what hit them. Ah, to be youngish.

The New Guy (A Honeypot Mystery) - Audio Blog

2008-05-15T06:27:00.007-04:00

It's been quite some time since I've done an audio blog post and so, please direct yourself to the little GCast player on my sidebar to the right (under Let's Go Audio) and press play. It clocks in at a very lengthy 86 seconds so hopefully, it won't hurt too much.

It's going to be a long summer. How do I know? Honeypot's got a new man (or an old one) and it could get pretty sleazy. If I'm lucky.

Walk This Way

2008-05-12T11:40:00.012-04:00

Today I found myself wrapped up in an accidental enterprise. I was minding my own (and everyone else's) business walking the block or so back from the bank to my office. Crossing the street, I spied a decent sized group of middle aged tourist types. My recourse seemed simple - I'd swath right through the centre of them and continue on my way.

As I started through, they somehow closed in around me and boom - I'm on a guided walking tour led by someone clucking in umlauts and hurdy gurdy wordiness. Dutch I figured.

It took a bit of jostling but I freed myself as quickly as possible and carried on my way. For a moment, and my trouble, I considered letting them in on this great place I know for coffee but my chewy Canadian centre wouldn't allow it - we need the tourist dollars.

You're welcome Canada! My country 'tis of thee. Wait, wrong country. Never mind.

Honey For The Bees

2008-05-11T06:45:00.015-04:00

My Guitar Hero fascination has waned sufficiently that I no longer feel withdrawal pains when I'm away from my plastic toy (that didn't sound right). Interest may be renewed when the Aerosmith edition lands in a store near me but only if a Steven Tyler scarf is included to hang on the end of my guitar (and by guitar, I mean guitar).

You'd think this would free me up to get outdoors and spy on Honeypot more. No, I busy myself now with praying for rain so as not to feel guilty about strapping myself in for hours and playing Super Mario Galaxy. Although the cartoon violence is mild, I make sure to swear as much as possible while failing at ridiculous tasks to make it seem more like an adult pursuit.

At points in the game, Mario gets a little help by transforming and acquiring new abilities. When he turned into a bee, I thought, I really should be blogging. I waited several hours until that passed but now I'm in between galaxies so here I am.In other news, I'll be calling the first lady of tact in a short while to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. I sent her a book I think she'll enjoy and hope she'll remember not to try reading it while driving. The most comforting part of the call is in our ritual at the end. Her "I wish you were closer" will be answered by my "yes, I know". I'm fairly sure the quiet delight that I'm not, goes unnoticed.

It's looking like a decent day shaping up so I really should fly and see what the buzz is in the outside world.

This Is Not A Love Song (KBL Edition)

2008-05-08T07:22:00.011-04:00

After being Korean Bagel Lady'd (thanks for the terminology Barbara), I realized there was a bit of information I'd forgotten to impart. While I'm still compiling documentary evidence of her henchwoman for Kim Jong Il status, I now at least know her name. She has a name ladies and gentlemen!

Back in the carefree days before she tried to poison me, I overheard someone at the counter say "Hi Joanne!" in the Bagel Lady's general direction. I asked if that was indeed her name and she verified it. I told her I'd expected something a little more exotic. She said "Well, my real name is Gin". Seeing her neckerchiefed helper working in the back, I said "So I guess you two are like Gin & Tonic then?". Her humourless "No" dashed my hopes of writing a buddy cop screenplay based on their adventures.

It wasn't until Coaster Punchman commented that if the Korean Bagel Lady and his nemesis Mama Gin met, they might cancel each other out that this fact returned to me. Reading that was like being struck with the force of, I'd say, four to six stale bagels. There are two Gins! Evil twin Gins perhaps separated at birth and by nation.

All this Gin flowing seems to support my view that evil grows in the dark, where the sun it never shines. If I was a man of prayer, I might say Saints preserve us! Instead, I'll just cling to to my belief that I'm tastier than her coffee will ever be.

The Make Up Sex Should Be Awesome!

2008-04-28T19:49:00.016-04:00

The unthinkable has happened - I've broken up with the Korean Bagel Lady! Before you leave me for dead, please hear my tale and then judge.

Last week on a work day filled with unsanctioned breaks and work avoidance, Jessica and I stopped to kibbitz with everyone's favourite bagel lady and get a cup of coffee. From there, we headed for the parkette outside the building to take our places on a bench warmed by spring sunlight.

We chatted a bit and I took a sip of my coffee. That's not right I thought, it must be the gum in my mouth. I went ahead and took a bigger sip and thought that weird taste can't just be from my gum. I asked Jessica to try hers and she did a brilliant spit take followed by a rapid fire: That's awful, there's something wrong with this coffee! Tastes like there's something in it that shouldn't be.

Seconds later, my tongue was tingling and my lips felt numb. This was more than just the heady thrill of being outside for the first time in months without a jacket, this was from coffee most foul. We headed back inside and approached the scene of the crime with caution.

After treading through our explanation, the Bagel Lady asked So, maybe coffee is too weak? No, it's not weak, there's a chemical taste to it, I said. No use any chemical, only clean machine Fridays with safe "cleaning" that company give me (she owns a franchise).

Maybe coffee too strong? she continued. Quickly becoming exasperated, I said No, it's not too strong, it's not too weak, but it's definitely not just right, there's something wrong with it! She scowled and said Here, let me see - which one Jessica and not yours? She took a swig from her cup and looking more sour than usual found her breakthrough moment. Yes, it bad, she declared.

You'd better throw out the rest of that pot before someone else drinks it, Jessica said. Skipping over this point she went straight to You want free coffee? Here, I give. She was about to pour a new cup out of the same pot. You can't serve the rest of that coffee!, we chastised, there's something wrong with it!. She acquiesced and disposed of the rancid brew. She then told us to wait while she made a fresh pot.

We compared symptoms and wondered what our livers were about to start trying to process until the new brew was ready. We hesitantly poured and went for the milk. It was empty. You're out of milk I said. Here, new one. As soon as it hit the hot coffee, the milk curdled. I can't take any more of this, let's just go, Jessica said. We told her we'd decided to pass on the idea of coffee today and she countered with Come back tomorrow, I give you free one!

Within a half hour, my head was pounding. I'm getting a headache now I called over the partition separating my deluxe cubicle from Jessica's. So am I. We shared some Advil and started drinking lots of water.

When I got home that evening, I brushed my teeth and tongue several times but the funny taste/feeling lasted right through to the next day. Jessica had enjoyed her evening even more after spending part of it throwing up.

We went back to our would be executioner and told her about it. She at first tried to say that we were just thinking about it too much and that's why we felt funny, you imagine it. When she saw that we were about to reach over the counter and brain her, she said she'd isolated the rest of the bags of coffee from that batch and opened a new case. She also called the company to test the coffee. Free one? she asked. We declined.

She refused to agree that there was any sort of chemical involved although my thoughts went to her long ago claims to having put bleach and CLR in my coffee. My guess is that maybe she did clean the pot out with something and forgot to rinse it.

I haven't been back since. I've walked by a few times and tried to avoid her icy stare. My response has been to just smile back while shielding her competitor's coffee cup from view. I know that sooner more likely than later, my body will betray me and demand bacon on one of her damned cheese bagels and I'll be back, but for now, I'm just biding my ~~tongue~~ time. I know which side my bagel's buttered on!

PS: While I have broken up with her, I haven't forgotten you my lovely readers and commenters. I've just been very busy. As soon as I have time, I'll break up with you properly.

Honeypot's Spring Line

2008-04-21T17:46:00.013-04:00

Ah, spring. The plastic bags are in the trees, the sun is shining like it means to stay and my neighbor Honeypot has emerged from hibernation.

In less than a week, the old gal has played hostess to four spectacular backyard fires and is a definite shoe in to re-light that pesky torch should the I.O.C. run into any more trouble.

She's also been busy spring cleaning. How can I tell? Several garbage bags await rescue and as it's a week early for pick up, milady has made sure they have some company. The couch formerly gracing the backyard may have witnessed one startling romp too many and has been dragged curbside. The sight just brightens the whole neighborhood.

Click photo to behold the glory.

Not having a clothesline hasn't stopped my Honeypot from hanging her clothes out either. Eaves troughs until now have been too singularly purposed don't you think? It may not be evident from my surveillance photo but be assured, there are several sweatshirts in her signature red hanging just above that old pot, not unlike the way they hang on her.

I think I've asked this before but now I'm pleading, won't you be my neighbor?

Naked City (I Wish!)

2008-04-19T06:58:00.008-04:00

One thing I enjoy about living in the big city is ~~judging~~ categorizing people based on their looks as I walk by them. Although I've no proof that any of my guesses are correct, I'm convinced they are.

Look! There goes a harried single mom, someone else who's one bad decision away from being homeless, a heart attack waiting to happen, a chronic masturbator, a model slash actress, a diddler, and a bouncer who needs to get off the 'roids. There are eight million stories in the naked city but I've only got time for one, this is rush hour.

Each morning walking through Union Station, I see a man standing in the same spot, cellphone to his ear. Something about the way he's dressed and the life's beaten me down look he wears tells me he's busy placing bets with a bookie. I've passed him nearly every day for a couple of years so I should know.

A few days ago I slowed down and went to put my newspaper in the recycling bin near where he stands and finally overheard him conducting this piece of nasty business: "I just wanted to make sure you were up honey, hope you have a wonderful day, I love you very much". My guess is that he calls the bookie right after that. In fact, I'd bet on it.

Can't You Read The Sign?

2008-04-12T12:35:00.009-04:00

All week long, I've been stealing the signs in our building announcing the Theft and Fraud Awareness seminar scheduled for next week. Nobody's come for me yet, I'm a little disappointed.

In other news, our local information channel with the sexy ticker type display let me down today. As a Canadian, it is important that I have up to the minute weather information without having to look through the window next to the television.

The damned thing was stuck going back and forth announcing the times for sunrise and sunset over and over, useful perhaps if I still had my dream of someday starring in Fiddler on the Roof but no help to me should I end up in a small talk situation today. The horror.

Why I Love British Telly

2008-04-06T20:29:00.007-04:00

This first bit I saw on Allison's blog and it kept me laughing through the day yesterday. It's from a show called The F Word with Gordon Ramsay. Ricky Gervais is the guest diner.

Why can't North American chat shows be more like The Graham Norton Show? I first heard of him on Melinda June's blog and I believe Gifted Typist has mentioned him as well. I think he was featured on the Kathy Griffin D-List episode when she went to London too. I've seen two episodes on BBC Canada but it only took one to hook me.

Happy Endings

2008-04-03T20:40:00.011-04:00

While it's true that here in Canadaland gumdrops and health care are free, it follows that you must generally do something stupid to get that free health care (the gumdrops you can just pick off the trees).

A few weeks ago, I was lamenting not being able to hold dance classes on the back deck as it was still covered with ~~white stuff~~ snow. My brain, being the underused entity that it is, told me I should get a bit of exercise and shovel the damned stuff onto the lawn before my dreams collapsed along with the deck.

I cleared most of it away and was ready to sign up new students when a couple of days later, the phrase pain in the neck took on a meaning I'd not previously understood. The act of turning my head even slightly sent shock waves through me as the spasms took over. I called on my brain for solutions and all it could come up with was I bet you could score some good drugs out of this.

As I'm in the process of breaking up with my own doctor because I can never reach him (he never seems to be free), I went to one of those tiny magical kingdoms known as a walk-in clinic. The doctor there took one look at me and suggested some medication, an x-ray and some physiotherapy. (Treatment and muscle relaxants are not quite as free as everything else but my plan at work covers me with a thousand sweet kisses).

When the lovely therapist saw how incredibly stiff I was, she tried some manipulation and then asked if I'd ever tried acupuncture. Well, stick a needle in me - I'd never thought of it but was willing to try nearly anything for a bit of relief.

After one session, the difference was quite remarkable. A few more visits and I'm a very happy and pain free fellow. At my last session, the therapist said "I think I'm going to give you a soft discharge", a phrase more fraught with meaning than this entire recounting. My eyebrow raised as I thought "that's gotta cost extra!" but she continued on - "That means you don't need to come back unless you have a flare up but if you do, your file is open and you can just book an appointment and I'll fix you right up".

No longer sitting on pins and needles about the potential for big pain from channeling Amy Winehouse while shaking my head and saying No No No to the Korean Bagel Lady's advances, once again I am ready to ~~rumble~~ rhumba!

Who Can Take A Nothing Day...

2008-03-27T20:09:00.013-04:00

Now that Mary Tyler Moore's had all that freaky plastic surgery, the answer to the musical question 'Who can turn the world on with her smile?' is up for grabs again and I may know just the candidate.

I'm not generally known to be a shiny happy person anytime say, before 5 p.m. and lately when I go to get coffee from the Korean Bagel Lady, she's taken to saying things like "Why you not smile?" or "What's wrong? You look too serious today!". This of course forces me to smile and say "I'm fine!" while my brain screams "I'm fucking tired of winter and this coffee had better be good!"

If I happen to go for a hot beverage with the lovely Jessica, equal parts blonde and adorable, the Bagel Lady lights up like a ~~Fourth of July~~ Canada Day fireworks display and I fade into the background which suits me just fine.

When we stopped for coffee today, she looked at Jessica and said "Hi Sunshine!" and then turned to me and said "Hi Sundown". We all laughed and I died a little inside.