Archive for May, 2008

Martha Stewart’s ruining the par-tay

Go to my Herald column here.

What would you rather do: “throw a party” or do “some entertaining?”

Would you rather see your host relaxing and having fun, or shuffling around attending to people’s needs?

Would you rather herd into the kitchen and drink beer from the bottle? Or be seated in the living room and be served cocktails and hors d’œuvres?

When did having a few friends in for an evening become such a chore? It’s like someone’s trying to take all the fun out of it.

I know who to blame: The Gracious One.

Martha Stewart’s empire was built on the idea of entertaining at home. But if you listen to her and follow all of the silly little rules, you could end spoiling the party.

So party on, dudes. It’s supposed to be fun.

lululemon: crack cocaine for the middle aged woman?

Brand hype is nothing new. Think Apple, Halo3, Sex in the City.

Yoga wear is nothing new, either. It’s great for kicking around the house and things like, well, yoga. But the lululemon phenomenon is curious.

Sure, the iconic brand appeals to young girls and young women still in the process of forming their identities and making the statement with the brand. I AM lululemon therefore I am.

But when I visited* the newly-opened lululemon store in town, it was full of middle-aged, middle-class women breathlessly ripping yoga trousers off the shelves and trying on matching bomber shell jackets. We’ll leave the matter of yoga wear fashion crimes aside for now, other than to say yoga wear should go no further than the house, yoga studio or running route.

Why are these women throwing themselves at something that is essentially overpriced elastic when they can purchase equally nice brands of stretchy yoga pants for half the price? (Women were lined up outside the store and around the corner on opening day. This wasn’t a rock concert with a finite number of tickets. It’s a store that would remain open in the days and weeks and presumably years to come.)

Is the lululemon brand the female equivalent of the male middle life crisis little red convertible? Is it code for youth? I wear lululemon therefore I AM young?

lululemon has nice yoga pants and the service is good, but it is overpriced and overhyped. And there are less expensive equally attractive alternatives. I do not get lululemon. And I don’t get why middle class, middle aged women are throwing themselves at this brand.

* the lululemon visit was on the request of a certain young lady who will soon be a Grade six graduate. She chose lululemon yoga pants as her present. She shares a nickname with part of the lululemon brand name but there is no lemon in her name.

An evening with Joel Plaskett

But there was no Emergency.

Joel Plaskett was on stage Monday night at a new restaurant in town, and I was lucky enough to get a great seat. It was less a concert and more like being invited into his living room for a performance for friends and family. Joel is a hometown boy.

We ate a lovely meal and afterwards Joel and friends came on stage and played for more than two hours. He was joined by his dad, Bill Plaskett who played guitar and sang lovely harmonies, and by singer songwriting friends Anna Egge and Rose Cousins.

Joel sang, talked, laughed and played with his kitchy synthesizer which was deployed more for irony’s sake than anything.

He played material from his newer albums Ashtray Rock and La De Da, introducing each song with a narrative thread which he carried on throughout the evening. Much of the material seemed autobiographical and focused on his time in stormy West Texas and Arizona.

A number of tunes were “just written the other night” and played here for the first time. That was a thrill. He played Fashionable People, a song for which he has been internationally recognized.

His quirky delivery felt real and unscripted. There was a nostalgic, folky feel in the music and lyrics. It was like being invited into the mind and soul of a talented songwriter and performer.

It was particularly fun to be sitting behind the table with his parents. I watched their proud faces and applause and wondered how it must have felt for them to be there, amongst all the applause for their son.

I’ve always liked the music and vibe of Joel Plaskett, but last night I graduated from liking to being a fan.

I highly recommend the restaurant as well.

Mirror, mirror on the water

At the cottage this weekend, the grey day broke on Saturday afternoon and the landscape came to life with rich sunlit colour which was reflected in the still chance. On the other side is white-sand beach and the ocean.

Sunday was lovely, even warm enough for the black flies to come out.

Welcome to politically correct chips

See today’s Herald column here.

Flax seed and multigrain. Spinach, tomato and potato. Trans fat free.

Big bold cheese flavour. Chips of a less hurried time.

Huh?

Walk down the chip aisle of a grocery store these days and you’d think you were in a health food store.

People, they’re chips. Chips are a tasty, salty, unhealthy vice. They are not health food.

Marketing chips as health food will make people eat more. People do not need to be eating more chips. It’s a scam.

Down with politically correct chips.

If Bob Dylan were on American Idol …

Randy would have said he could sing the phonebook.

Paula would have said she loved him for who he is.

Simon would have said he had bad song choices.

All I can say is thank god there was no American Idol back in ‘63 when Dylan started out.

I was late after attending the Grade Six Band concert, which I wouldn’t have missed, even for Dylan. I thought I’d miss the opening act, but curiously there was no opening act. It was just Dylan. For two hours. And what a fine two hours.

He focused on his old old stuff and his new new stuff, a lot of it I’d never heard before. But who cared. It was the Dylan vibe I came for.

His voice was a little growly and rough at first but as the evening went on, it ripened and those slurpy Dylan-vocal peaks and troughs went down a glass of smooth chocolate milk. You couldn’t help but smile and pinch yourself and think: Wow. This is Dylan. Bob Dylan.

A lot of the songs were tinged with a rockabilly groove, which thrilled the percussionist in this typist. He did All Along the Watchtower and Highway 61 and his encore was Like a Rolling Stone. But my faves were the narrative-weaving songs with all their poetry and Dylan vocal stylings.

Dylan played the keyboard for most of the evening, taking the harmonica out for a few brief moments. The band was superb, as you would expect.

I must admit that my expectations of this concert were moderate. Dylan’s voice and mood haven’t always been consistent in the past and you couldn’t predict. But last night, that old rusty instrument of a voice of his delivered the Dylan honesty, integrity and magic.

And I sat up there in the nose-bleed section soaking it all in with the biggest smile in house.

What to do? What to do?

Tonight the music planets have lined up and choices must be made.

What should I do*:

- attend the Grade Six First Year Band concert featuring one of the little typists on clarinet

- attend Bob Dylan concert

- watch the America Idol final

*With some fast footwork and the use of technology, I should manage all three.

A day in the life of a lobster

On a cold foggy morning, I happened to be on a wharf as the lobster boats were arriving with their catch.

This prized shellfish is destined for fine fish markets the world over and it was exciting to witness it landing right before my eyes.

Later that night, after the sun burned through the fog, there was a feast of the sweet delicate meat. It was prepared as an Asian stir fry. You can see that the lobster wasn’t looking so keen. (It was not bought at the wharf as this is illegal.)

But when it was all said and done, heaven is the closest word I can summon up to describe meal.

And the winner is….

Gaaaane for the  use of the medical dictionary words in the following sentence. This entry caused me to snort out loud (SOL)and it incorporated 8 terms which impresses me to no end.

Pelvis got labour pain when an impotent boss rectum by beating him with a medical staff in the recovery room while yelling, “I node, you told a fibula to Seizure!”

Runners up are

Barbara, the Bad Tempered Zombie for making me snort with memories of my own Julius:

He was charged nitrates in the Caesarean section and it damn near rectum, but he found he could get home fester that way

And CP for the sheer poetry of his submission:

I node I was gonna git a terminal illness fester than a whore would start sweatin’ in church.

Thanks for all the silly entries. And thanks to Dick for sending in the dictionary in the first place. I laughed, I cried, I’ll neva be the same.

Bring back spammers with manners

Go to my Herald column here.

How I long for the day when you’d get spam from the Nigerian guy. Remember him?

When you compare his spam to some of the junk that lands in your inbox these days, you begin to appreciate  the Nigerian guy’s spams and scams. The Nigerian guy understood the meaning of the word decency.

His emails were courteous and well-constructed. He explained his tale of woe and then politely asked for your banking details so he could unlock his fortune. If you gave him that, he would rip you off.

Of course, this was criminal, but caveat emptor. You don’t give out your banking details over the internet.

I don’t hear much from the Nigerian guy anymore. Maybe he gave up on me. We were never going to be able to do business, but I still miss him.

Medical dictionary contest

IT’s contest time at GT.

Your challenge is to create a sentence using three words listed in the medical dictionary below. The meanings have to be taken from the new definition. You get extra points for including more than three words.

Enter as many times as you like.

Here is an example

“My biggest enema told a fibula about her Pelvis.”

Dilate……………………. …To live long
Enema…………………….. Not a friend
Fester……………………. ..Quicker than someone else
Fibula…………………….. ..A small lie
Impotent.………………….. Distinguished, well known
labour Pain.………………..Getting hurt at work
Medical Staff……………… A Doctor’s cane
Morbid…………………….. .A higher offer
Nitrates………………….. …Cheaper than day rates
Node.…………………….. …I knew it
Outpatient………………… .A person who has fainted
Pelvis……………………. …..Second cousin to Elvis
Post Operative.…………… A letter carrier
Recovery Room.…………… Place to do upholstery
Rectum……………………. …Nearly killed him
Secretion…………………. …Hiding something
Seizure…………………… …..Roman emperor
Tablet.…………………… …..A small table
Terminal Illness…………… .Getting sick at the airport
Tumour………………………..One plus one more
Urine.……………………. …..Opposite of you’re out

Here is last week’s list

Artery.…………………… The study of paintings
Bacteria………………….. Back door to cafeteria
Barium.…………………… What doctors do when patients die
Benign.…………………… What you be, after you be eight
Caesarean Section………A neighbourhood in Rome
Cat scan.………………….. Searching for Kitty
Cauterize.………………… Made eye contact with her

Mathematics + magic = mathemagics

Last night this typist gasped. At math.

No kidding. I laughed too. And clapped. And marveled. And jumped to my feet. At math. MATH!And you would have gasped, laughed, clapped and marveled too, if you’d witnessed someone work this out in their head:

57,682 x 57,682 =

It took him about 20 seconds to come up with the correct answer of 3, 327, 213, 124 before a live audience of mathematicians at the university lecture I attended. The audience gave him the numbers to work with and he used his mental math skills and tricks to come up with the answer.

He calls his art Mathemagics.

If you give him the date, month and year of your birthday, he can tell you the day you were born. Even if you were born in 1805.

He can do 11x 14 in a snap because of the magic properties in the 11-times table. ( You add 1+4 = 5 and put the 5 in the middle of the 1 and 4 for an answer of 154.) For bigger numbers you have to carry the one so that 85 x 11 = 8 + 5 = 13. Carry the one makes the answer 935.

He does his mental math calculations left to right.

He uses the magic of the nine-times tables to perform other feats. He also uses phonetic codes to memorize pi (∏) to 60 figures.

Dr. Benjamin says the biggest problem with math is the way it’s taught. Math teachers beat the joy out of math starting in elementary school. They make it more complicated and less fun than it really is.

When kids begin to stumble on math, society quickly gives them the out. ” I guess you aren’t that good at math.” This is wrong, he says. Everyone can do math. Math is a skill like reading or driving a car. And if you practice you can do it.

Where I live, math is a huge problem and the government is so blind to the problem that they put a positive spin on test results showing that 30% of Grade 3 students are failing at math. This, according to our government, is good.

Dumb, I say. And Dr. Benjamin would say so too.

Dr. Benjamin’s gift for entertainment and fun is what math and kids need most.

I went to a Latvian rally, and a hockey game broke out

The Latvian hockey fans lived up to the legend they have become in this town.

This place hasn’t been the same since fifteen hundred Latvians arrived last weekend for the International Ice Hockey Federation Championship.

Lucky me managed to snag seats for the Latvian - Norway match.

The hockey was good but the fans were the main attraction. They turned the arena on its head with their drums, primal stomping, horns and LAT-VI-JA! LAT-VI-JA! chants. And the team answered the call with a 4-1 win. Fans roared like thunder.

Canada is the favourite of the championship. On Saturday they murdered Germany 10-1.

After that game, I noted the absence of tut-tutting like we saw in Torino 2006 when the women’s hockey team dominated with high scores.

Followers of hockey will recall the dressing-down women received from Canadian commentators when the women beat other teams like this. They were told to tone it down and stop scoring so many goals. It didn’t look good. It lacked class. It was unCanadian to dominate like that.

But not a peep when the boys won 10-1. I guess it’s ok for the boys to win big but not the girls. I guess that’s Hypocrisy Night in Canada.

The Canadians will no doubt win the championship, but the Latvian fans have won the hearts in this town.

Go Latvia!

No computer for GT on Saturday (!)

I found the following note on my typist’s desk the other evening.

My mommy is looking at blogs too much. In other words she is rotting her eyes out. Someday she will die from the computer. (nah, na, na, nah nah!) She also writes her columns on the computer. Blogs + columns = 23 hours a day on the computer.

Do you think someone is trying to send me a message here?

He’s issued a challenge. I have to spend 24 hours without touching the computer. It can be switched on for the sake of the music but nothing else.

Because I make my living by the computer, this challenge has to be seen through on a weekend. So tomorrow, Saturday, is the day. Nada computer for Mama.

No blogging, emailing, writing, CSS mods, digital picture fiddling. Nuttin’. No talking to you, my bloggie friends.

So if you do not see my IP in your stats tomorrow, don’t go worrying that something terrible has happened.

Wish me well.

Make my day. Kick a multinational in the head

Go here for my Herald column on this.

Think about this: In the first quarter of this year, ExxonMobil made a $10.8 billion profit. And investors were disappointed. It wasn’t enough. $10.8billion in three months wasn’t enough profit.

Now think about this: skyrocketing gas prices, spiraling grocery costs, food panics all over the world.

Do you see what I mean by wanting to kick a multinational in the head?

Against a super-major like Exxon we are mere peons, but if all the peons get together they can hit Big Oil where it hurts. In the bottom line.

I like to think of it as ripping off a multinational. Legally.

If you have to run a car in town, try this: Ease down on the gas when you start from go. Don’t dart out. You’ll be a few seconds slower reaching speed, but you can save 30 percent on your gas bill. No kidding.

I started this awhile ago and I’m paying less for gas than I did when prices were lower.

So go on: make my day. Rip off a multinational and then buy yourself a drink with the proceeds.