tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13542629688642783232024-03-05T19:54:28.894-08:00The Rock and Roll LibrarianThe Rock and Roll Librarian ruminates on the general state of affairs. Mainly music,tall tales and poor child rearing advice.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-35627155659327438802016-11-27T12:57:00.000-08:002016-11-27T18:09:56.046-08:00How to go Viral<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I think I’m doing YouTube wrong. Seriously, how is it that I sit down at 8 pm
with the sole intention of watching the November Rain video, and when I suddenly
snap back into consciousness, it’s 2 o'clock in the morning, and I’m watching a montage
of cats falling into the bathtub. I am dehydrated, disoriented, and there is
this big blurry part in the middle, kind of like how you feel after a Phish
concert. I try to piece together what happened and follow the mysterious thread
from Guns and Roses to cats. I usually draw a blank, except I’m pretty sure
somewhere in there, I watched at least two full seasons of WKRP in Cincinnati. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You are a dangerous mistress YouTube,
drawing me in with clips of people snorting Wasabi and then slyly letting your
dress slip off your shoulder by suggesting a “coming up next” feature. Are you
reading my mind YouTube? Do I want to watch rednecks making their own pontoon
boats from nothing more than plastic barrels and a picnic table? Yes I do... I do
want to watch that. Once I’m down the
rabbit hole, clocks start melting, time becomes irrelevant, and I just have to
let the current take me where it will. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I can’t say this dance with the devil
has been a complete waste of time though. I have gleaned enough insight into the human
condition to find out what makes a video go viral. As such, if you ever want to
have your 15 minutes of fame, try and capture something in the following
categories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A child getting stoned at the dentist</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. Apparently it is perfectly normal to film a
kid on the drive home from the dentist when they are high out of their minds
and talking gibberish. It is also normal to then share it on the inter-web
where millions of people can join in the laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">People falling off treadmills</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. If you hang
around the gym enough, not working out, but just keeping your phone on and at
the ready, you will eventually capture this. Believe me, it will be worth it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Anything with a Panda</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. It doesn’t matter
how boring they are, for some reason people love Pandas. “Oh look, he’s sitting
in a slightly different, but cuter position!” should be enough to get you a
million hits. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Getting Tasered</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. If you have a cop friend,
ask if you can go on a ride-along on a Saturday night. With any luck, you will
see some poor bastard getting zapped with the Taser. You’ll get tons of hits from
the male 18-24 demographic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Rednecks doing anything that could get them
killed</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. If you ever hear the phrase “gimme them jumper cables you pussy “,
start filming immediately, something big is about to happen. If it is preceded
by “hold my beer”, you are about to strike gold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Putting something unusual in the blender</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. It is not
within the reasoning power of some people to understand that they should not
put paintball pellets and root beer in the blender just to see what will
happen. It does make for good video though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Any playground accident</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. My god, the
possibilities are endless. People flying off the roundabout, overweight adults thinking
they can still go on the slide, and anything involving the most dangerous piece
of equipment ever invented, the swing set. All are hilarious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">People eating things they shouldn’t</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. The habanero pepper challenge seems to be
popular, followed closely by cinnamon powder and dry Jell-O. Chugging anything
carbonated with Mentos is also acceptable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">9.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Kids Dance Moves</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">- The
internet public is very impressed with dancing toddlers that display any sense
of rhythm. Immeasurably so if they are wearing a tiny tuxedo, and have commanded
the attention of an entire wedding reception. Frickin adorable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-13733860803868262202016-08-30T09:04:00.000-07:002016-08-30T12:09:19.109-07:00This is Our Life<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">Tragically Hip week is over now and Canadians of a certain age
are still suffering the inevitable post-hip hangover. Make no mistake, it has
been an emotionally exhausting few months, from the time news was shared about
Gord Downie’s illness up until the final bows of their last waltz in Kingston.
An event so captivating that we as a nation tuned in and watched with the same
fervor as though it were game seven of a Toronto vs Montreal Stanley Cup final.
(Yes I am aware they are in the same conference and could never play each other
in the finals, but let us visualize that particular miracle in order to
highlight the magnificence of the situation). </span><span style="font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">Along with this very public outpouring of love
for the band came the declaration from many of how the Hip had provided the
soundtrack to their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That phrase – the soundtrack to your life – is a weighty
statement that carries with it a big chunk of your baggage and memories and
even your personality. It's more than that Ramones phase you went through in
high school, or when you declared yourself a hip jazz-cat because you bought a
second Miles Davis CD. If you outgrew Green Day after grade 9, then perhaps
that was merely your soundtrack to getting stuffed in a locker by a senior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">What we are talking about here kids, is the stuff that
sticks. The music that was playing during your formative years and beyond. It
would have accompanied your teenage span, when you were busy making all the
mistakes that helped turn you into a real human being, but also followed you to
University or travelling the world. If you had copies of the Tragically Hip’s <i>Up to Here</i> on vinyl, followed by
cassette, CD, iPod and finally back to vinyl (when that became cool again),
then I have news for you my friend. The Hip are part of the soundtrack to your
life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">There is something to be said for music that you never tire
of. To test this theory, think back to the last time you visited a cottage. If
you listened to Bobcaygeon five times on the way up, and then later pulled out
your guitar and sang a whole bunch more Hip songs around the campfire, this
is definitely your band. Need further proof? Does your four year-old know the
words to Wheat Kings? If so, then that
CD has been in rotation in your car for a loooong time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It is a rare and special thing to have grown up and matured with
a band. Particularly if that band feels like they are from your hometown, and
you know that you will never outgrow them. Way back in the day, I wanted them
to be a big deal in the USA, and I wanted to share them with the rest of the
world, but not anymore. I like the intimate thing Canadians have going with
these guys. I still want them to be our secret.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-74512726482143582052016-08-04T12:10:00.001-07:002016-08-04T12:10:49.940-07:00Millennials Unite!<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">You came up in the toughest of times if you were born from
1982 to 2000. Really it’s a wonder any of you survived into a grown-up sized
body, what with peril lurking around every corner.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Okay, so you maybe you weren’t allowed to walk to school or
drink water right out of the garden hose, but your generation had to suffer
through plastic water bottles that were full of BPA’s and didn’t keep your
drink cold at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Your moms were pregnant with you and still drank caffeine,
ate gluten, and exposed you to low doses of second hand smoke on patios and in
other outdoor venues. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">If your parents wanted to reach you, it was on a totally
archaic <i>flip phone</i>, and even then, only
when you were in an area with good reception. You used “pay as you go” and once
your minutes ran out you were screwed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Sunscreen was a joke. Your mom would lather you up with stuff
that was rated as 18 SPF or even less! You heard me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">You were sent out in the yard to amuse yourselves on the
trampoline. Sure, there was a protective net around the sides, but it could be very
abrasive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You rode bikes with no disc brakes and wore old school bike helmets that fit poorly and were completely unfashionable. </span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nerf Guns? Not as bad as lawn darts, but I suspect they could
be dangerous if you got shot at point blank range…directly in the eyeball.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">HD was barely invented and Plasma TV’s were like a million
dollars. 1080p? Child please…more like 720p. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">You got by on 40 gig hard drives and windows 95. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">On milk day at school, there was no soy milk option. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Some of you are old enough that you went to a school where
kids would actually bring peanut products in their lunches. Yet here you are.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Your dads built elaborate tree-forts with pressure treated
lumber that contained arsenic, which could cause cancer if swallowed. Um, hello…do
you <i>want </i>me to get cancer dad?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Amber alert? Whatever. If you were kidnapped, you were basically
on your own. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Fair play in sports wasn’t really fair. Yes everybody made
the team but if you sucked, the coach would make you sit on the bench during the
finals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">There was no Pokémon Go. You made do with the terrible
graphics offered on your Super NES, SEGA, or PlayStation. (Or Xbox, or Wii,
depending on what your parents could afford)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Netflix? Forget about it. If you wanted to binge watch
something you had to go to the video store and rent a whole bunch of DVD’s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Parents were strict! If you misbehaved, you got a time out, simple
as that. It may sound barbaric but it sometimes worked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Pat yourself on the back millennials – you made it. Now go
out and exercise your right to rage at the newest generation coming up…this so
called Generation Z. You tell them how tough it was back in the day, before
apps and touch screens and water bottles with bits of fruit floating around in
them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-65221445565964471892016-03-11T07:47:00.000-08:002016-03-11T13:30:15.544-08:00How to Care For Your American Refugee…<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsieIeX37QSS0bUZQvJxZ99RGBm-0yoOLaj0bsfyfLCknNEMgC71HiymsdPCq3EXzOtp1UDr_L0xq8uEM0kAnnn5WsjVmAO-rWhC-jCFubRBPl7Bw9uRv3pUxAeih0p22mXZaIoEdt_Kg/s1600/o-CANADA-UNITED-STATES-FLAGS-facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsieIeX37QSS0bUZQvJxZ99RGBm-0yoOLaj0bsfyfLCknNEMgC71HiymsdPCq3EXzOtp1UDr_L0xq8uEM0kAnnn5WsjVmAO-rWhC-jCFubRBPl7Bw9uRv3pUxAeih0p22mXZaIoEdt_Kg/s320/o-CANADA-UNITED-STATES-FLAGS-facebook.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To all
Canadians,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As much as
it pains me to say it, Donald Trump could actually become president. Yes, this
was all very hilarious eight months ago when it was about as likely as a Guns
and Roses reunion, and well...you know what happened there. How could this be you ask? Let’s just say Jesse
the Body Ventura, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sonny Bono are all reminders that
it is never good practice to underestimate the American voter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course in
typical Canadian fashion, we have already invited the whole lot of them to move
up here when things go sideways. I mean, can you imagine poor old Vermont
trying to live with the Donald? Vermont, with its maple syrup and Birkenstocks,
who is practically already Canadian? They wouldn’t last a week. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So if you
take in an American refugee, or whole family for that matter, feel free to use
the following tips to make their transition to the north easier.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">1.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Don’t talk politics. Remember, they
have been through a very traumatic election season. Some of them made some very
bad decisions and some may have even forgotten to vote, and it wouldn’t be
sporting of you to remind them of this.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">2.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Most American refugees will be of the
more liberal type and quite possibly suffering from PSTD. Avoid trigger words
such as Ted Nugent, Sarah Palin and NASCAR. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">3.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Don’t take them immediately to the
hospital for a checkup. They’re not used
to free shit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">4.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Don’t mention the wall. Unless they
are talking about the Canadian wall. Then tell them we start building in the
summer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">5.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Feed them comfort food, such as KFC
and Big Gulp. Supersize may not be quite as super here, but they should have no
problem keeping their diabetes levels up. (Canadians are headed that direction
anyway, but we’re still at more of a diabetes-lite stage)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">6.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Americans like TV as much as
Canadians. Be sure to introduce them to such soothing Canadian classics as Road
to Avonlea and the Beachcombers. If they are homesick, you could try The
Trailer Park Boys. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">7.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Try and explain how the emergency
response system works here. 911 should be used as an alternative for any
situation where they would normally be compelled to shoot someone in the face. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">8.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Break the cycle. Even if you think
they are ready, under no circumstances should you allow them to go to the
following places: hunting supply stores, rodeos, speedways, county fairs or anywhere
where they could score crystal meth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">9.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Avoid talking about religion. Using
the phrase “the lord works in mysterious ways” is not an acceptable explanation
as to why Donald Trump became the leader of the free world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 20.25pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">10.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Taxes. This will be a tricky concept
for them to grasp. Just tell them that by giving up 40% of their future
earnings, they are entitled to adopt a smug sense of self-righteousness shared
by all Canadians when we talk about our health care system. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-64608003412320068872015-12-05T12:14:00.000-08:002015-12-06T07:35:35.251-08:00All the Young Dudes<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">Every high school talent show
across the land pretty much unfolds in the same way. There are some good acts
and some bad acts and a few individuals who have heard the term tone deaf, but
don’t know it applies to them. Standard fare usually includes a troupe of
dancing girls (containing one leader who has clearly been in competitive dance
since age four, flanked by six others who spend the whole time crashing into
each other, always one beat behind), perhaps a comedy act and some homemade
poetry that may induce motion sickness. But those are not the bones of the
matter. The real spine of the show of course is the bands.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Like the rest of the acts, the
band performances vary according to a number of things such as level of
experience, measure of stage fright, quality of equipment, and plain old talent
– or lack thereof. Granted, it is terribly difficult to sound good in a wide
open cafeteria when you are singing through a guitar amp and you’re bass player
has not actually learned any notes yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My firsthand experience in
these matters comes from back in the olden days when I used to host a coffee
house at the school. Through this, I have endured (mostly in good humour) karaoke,
morose singer songwriters and punk bands that have obviously not practiced as a
unit more than three times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Occasionally, I would become
cranky, like the time I was working the door, and a couple of young punks tried
to get in for free. Two long haired, skinny little metal heads - one blond
wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt and the other with dark hair sporting a Pantera
t-shirt - just like Beavis and Butthead. It was only a two dollar cover charge which
neither could procure from the depths of their pockets. I think they were about
14 at the time, and had a combined weight of about 150 pounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I had to lay it down for them.
“Hey guys…you have to pay to get in, just like everyone else. Even the
performers have to pay to get in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“What about if we perform? Can
we pay half? ” Beavis asks, grinning like a maniac.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah” says Butthead, “We live
like, one block away. We’ll go get our guitars, and find a dollar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I agreed to the deal just to
get rid of them, as I was certain they would get distracted along the way and
never return. Besides I was not up for sitting through another desecrating instrumental
version of Stairway to Heaven. Not five minutes went by when </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">I looked out the window and damned if they weren’t trudging across the parking lot,
both with a guitar in hand and carrying a giant amp that banged against their
legs with each step, forcing them to zig zag like drunken sailors. They still
had no money but I let them in anyway because the show was half over. I told
them I would slot them in between </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">angst
ridden poetry girl</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;"> and </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">bad punk band
with no singer.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Angst
ridden poetry girl</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> finished and the metal head kids set up their
amps, while I braced myself for a cringe-worthy performance of Free Bird… or
worse. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">And yea, the stars did align,
for the two tiny metal heads did burst forth with great musical ability and stirred
the crowd with a righteous rendition of Green Onions. I’m not kidding. These
little buggers launched into the Booker T classic like they were delta blues
veterans. The way they traded riffs and grooved along you would think you were
standing in a juke joint in Memphis on a Saturday night. It’s get better
though. For the second song, one of them (Black Sabbath shirt) puts down his
guitar and grabs the microphone. Pantera shirt starts into the opening riff of
Rooster by Alice and Chains. By this time I’m grinning like an idiot and
looking over at the punk band who has unenviable task of following this performance. I'm making sure they are watching how it's supposed to be done.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It turns out that Black
Sabbath shirt can sing. I mean he can really sing. Not like a 15 year old
with a shaky voice but more like a front man on the stage at Lollapalooza. They
tore through <i>Rooster </i>with just the
guitar and voice without a hitch. It was a glorious relief to have my
preconceived notions proved wrong. I don’t really remember if <i>punk band with no singer</i> was half decent
or horrible but either way, they didn’t burn a spot in my brain like the two
little metal heads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.3333px; line-height: 26px;">A</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.3333px; line-height: 26px;"> year to two later,</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 17.3333px; line-height: 26px;"> I found out </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">that there was a
third long haired guitar player from around the same grade –
we’ll call him Metallica shirt, who, at another talent show joined Pantera shirt onstage for a scorching rendition of Little Wing by Jimi Hendrix. Once
again, they played well beyond their years and in my opinion, stole the show. I don't know if there was something in the water in the </span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; line-height: 26px;">neighbourhood</span><span style="font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;"> where these kids came from, but they sure as hell could play.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Fast forward 10 years or so and you will be happy to know that these boys have done rather well for themselves.
If we are throwing around names, then let it be known that Black Sabbath shirt
is called Taylor Perkins and he sings in a band called Bleeker Ridge, which was
last seen touring across the country with the likes of Papa Roach and Buckcherry.
He is joined in this band by Mike Van Dyk -otherwise known as Metallica t-shirt
- who plays bass. The last character, formerly referred to as Pantera shirt, is
Timmy Kehoe and he holds down the lead guitar spot in a vicious metal band
called Adrenechrome. Mike Van Dyk also plays bass in this band because his love
of metal runs very deep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And so it stands, that long
ago I was reminded of some life lessons. Don’t judge a CD by its cover, and sometimes
letting a couple of kids in to the coffee house for free is the right thing to
do. Oh…and Kehoe and Perkins, you guys still owe me two </span><o:p></o:p><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 107%;">bucks.</span></span></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-63858168248436039542015-12-01T16:46:00.000-08:002015-12-02T14:01:49.912-08:00Fashion at 40 Below<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;">The
perfect storm descended upon our house last week, when the snow-filled winds blew
in off Georgian Bay and met up with a stubbornly eighth grader, causing power
outages, road closures and subsequently several arguments and no less than 3
trips to the mall.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The
non-parenting translation is as follows: Snow falls and parents discover boy
has no boots. All parties go to town. Parents point out several pairs of sensible
boots. Boy becomes teenagerly and is not receptive to fashion suggestions
placed forth by uncool parents. All parties go to a new store and repeat
process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I
use the term boots loosely, because to me that defines something that comes at
least halfway up your shin and will keep your foot warm and dry. The boy, on
the other hand, has a more liberal acceptance of what classifies winter footwear,
which apparently includes flimsy hiking shoes and high top sneakers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Those
of you who own a teenager can back me when I say that one’s social status is
hopelessly and inexorably dependent on one’s choice of boots. Yes, it’s a real
life adolescent problem that rivals the horror of like, totally slow Wi-Fi or
only getting three smiley faces on your Instagram post. As such, it makes sense
that the possibility of losing a couple of toes to frostbite is a small price
to pay to avoid the un-coolness of clumping around the school yard in massive snowmobile
boots. So off to town we went, in search
of a new pair of boots, where after several unsuccessful stops, things came to a
head at the Work Wearhouse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“How
about these insulated rubbers? It says they’re good to minus 40.” Says I. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Really
dad? I guess it’s fine if you want your only son to be shunned by his peers and
have to spend all lunch hour standing under the monkey bars with Gordon
Lewinsky.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Is
he the one with the scab collection?” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Yep.”
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Okay
then…how about these?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“You
want me to look like a ski lift operator?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> And so it went until a compromise was reached. A leather hiking boot of sorts
– cut well above the ankle with a decent insulation value. I bought them a half
size too big so he can wear them next year and God help us if they fall out of
favour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">To
be perfectly honest, I knew this day was coming, because of course I went
through the same thing in grade 8 when I needed new boots. Back in the day
there was only one acceptable option and that was the coveted Greb Kodiak work
boot, which had absolutely no tread and zero insulation but I knew they would
pair nicely with my Lumberjack coat. (Usually I had to wear this over my ski
coat, but whatever - it preserved the look). The girl’s version was the Cougar
boot with the red tongue and the brown imitation leather that would start
peeling off after they were exposed to air. In the tough world of early teen
fashion, anything else was completely unacceptable. So…imagine my surprise when
my mother went shopping without me and then came to the school to drop off a
pair of Sorels - the very largest, warmest, most unhip boot ever. Jesus Christ
mom… I’m not going on an Arctic expedition, I’m just trying to stand around and
look cool. What’s next? You want me to
wear a hat and cover up my wicked feathered hair? (Which by the way I was
growing out so I could look exactly like David Lee Roth).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The
boots and the hat are simply the tip of the stupid “fashion over comfort” iceberg
we all rode as teens such as the <i>open
coat </i>look, only bested by the slightly more asinine <i>no coat</i> look. Or the “I’m too tough for mitts” stage. Oh yeah, and
you know what the most non-waterproof piece of footwear on the planet is?
Desert boots, which I diligently wore outside in the slush until they built up that
crusty salt stain and became ruined.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Adobe Heiti Std R"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> To the fully formed adult brain, it seems daft
to suffer needlessly under the name of fashion, but clearly I get it. We have
all been there in various forms, depending on the era you came up in. I’m pretty
sure back in 1981, my sister and her friends had those jeans where you needed
to use pliers to get them zipped up. Combine that with a pair of high heels and
it’s a wonder more of them didn’t pass right out in the front row of the Hall
and Oates concert. So the next time your teen refuses to wear a coat in
November, let them go out confident and looking stunningly cool. If they come
back shivering and with wet feet and you can tell them about the time you stood
outside a club in the middle of winter, in a t-shirt, smoking a cigarette
and waiting for the band to come back on. Coats are for sissies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-70602291510258748422015-04-23T16:03:00.000-07:002015-04-23T16:10:40.060-07:00Things your wife or girlfriend does that you probably don’t even know about<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Much as I
try to model myself after the enlightened gents I read about in Men’s Health
magazine, with their perfect hygiene, zero body fat and “notes of bergamot”
cologne, I remain an unpolished lout in many ways. I’m not saying I’m a lost
cause, but after being married for a good number of years, I still leave my
beard in the sink, the toilet seat up, and I don’t smell like bergamot, if bergamot
is even a real thing. We’re not talking about mortal sins here but smaller offenses,
like sometimes when we are at the pub, I peer over my wife’s shoulder, pretending
to look for the waiter when I am actually watching the game. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As such, I
count myself lucky to cohabitate with someone who puts up with a fair amount of
shenanigans and still does my laundry even though I sometimes leave crumpled up
wet towels in the hamper. I know, it takes two seconds to hang up a towel but
men have domestic deficiencies that can’t be nagged or even beaten out of us. In terms of household evolution, we have
reached somewhere between Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens – meaning we know we
shouldn’t drink the milk straight from the carton, but we still do anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">To that end,
Mrs. Rock and Roll Librarian has conducted herself admirably throughout, only
occasionally being forced to fly off the handle and remind me that her
gardening wheel barrow is not to be used to mix concrete in or that the boy and
I should not play lacrosse in the house, <i>even</i>
if we are only using a tennis ball. In light of this type of behaviour that
many men exhibit, we should at least understand a few of the wondrous things that
the wives and girlfriends do that we don’t even realize. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She waters the plants</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">- apparently you have to do this every three days or they will die. I
always assumed that the ones in our house were fake or that maybe we had a
gardener come in and do it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She changes the toilet paper roll</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> – most men see an empty roll as a contest to see how long
they can go before the significant other will cave in and change it. We know
how, we just don’t like doing it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She un-balls your socks before washing them</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> – this is a thing at our house. Stinky
socks from the two boys, concealing sand, bits of grass and strange odours. I
am learning to un-ball them when I throw them in the hamper, but there is a lot
of muscle memory telling me otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She makes sure there are nail clippers and dental floss in the house</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> – those items don’t magically appear
in the medicine cabinet you know. She has to go out to a store and actually buy
it, bring it home and tuck it nicely into your toiletry kit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She dusts</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> – I
have learned that dusting is something people actually do and is not just an
old timey thing you see in the movies. Someone has to take a wet cloth or
duster and go over everything, physically moving the knick-knacks, cleaning
them, and then placing them back in their exact location. Sounds like a waste
of time, yes, but apparently if you don’t do it, your house will start to
resemble the Adamms family mansion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She buys fruits and vegetables</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> –You told your wife
you would take care of the shopping this week and came home with 45 pounds of various
meats, two boxes of cereal and a jug of milk. How did those apples and pears
get in the crisper? Hmmm, they must have come with the fridge.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She makes you drink water</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> – If women didn’t do this, men would be chronically
dehydrated, considering our favourite drinks are coffee and beer. How many
times after having consumed two pitchers of beer, right before bed, has your
wife silently handed you an Advil and a big glass of water, then walked
away. </span><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She makes sure you don’t leave the house looking like an idiot</span></b></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">. – We can dress ourselves easily
enough, its whether or not we risk public ridicule by leaving the house in what
we have chosen. “If I wear a tie can I still wear jeans? No? Okay thanks love.” Trust me, your wife knows more than you do,
so if she says you can’t pull off skinny jeans, then dude…you really can’t pull
off skinny jeans.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-46407428260160614342015-02-23T16:59:00.000-08:002015-02-23T16:59:38.515-08:00Cultural Phenomenon Gone Bad – A list of 10<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%;">Sometimes the Rock and Roll Librarian likes to channel
his inner grumpy old man, shaking an imaginary cane at the Starbucks and
reminding everyone that coffee should be drunk black, with the only acceptable accompaniment
being a shot of brandy. In the old days, that and a couple of unfiltered
“Export A” greens was a perfectly good breakfast, at least according to my
Granddad and he lived to be well over 60.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Recently though, strange things have begun to creep
into our cultural consciousness that remind us things are not as they used to
be. Twerking? Instagraming your lunch? What the hell man. And who decided that
we needed an updated version of Spiderman every two years until the end of
time? Some stuff you shouldn't mess with and some stuff should not have been
invented – I’m looking at you Auto Tune. Maybe we need to be more discerning
about which daft ideas we allow to consume us as the flavor of the day. And hey
you hipsters - stop buying up all the Goddamn vinyl – you’re driving up the
price for the real collectors. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The following is basically a list of questionable stuff
that has gone sideways since Seinfeld went off the air. Evidently, some of this
will kill you now, but wouldn't have back in my day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Paris Kardashian syndrome – This is a
recent phenomenon where you can become a celebrity by having a daddy with lots
of money. You don’t have to actually do anything except frequently post to your
twitter account and make the odd sex tape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Soy Exploitation – The soy bean was
fine on its own for thousands of years as a staple in the Asian diet. It should
never have become the main ingredient in…well everything, and especially should
never appear in the same sentence as frappucino or latte.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Gluten Sensitivity – I’m pretty sure
gluten sensitivity was invented by the food industry as a clever way of
marketing to hypochondriacs. Gluten is a necessary part of life…like msg. No
one actually knows what it does, except that when you take it away, it creates
flavor sadness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Water bottles – From the way people
cart water bottles around these days, you would think humans had been pushed to
the brink of extinction from being dangerously dehydrated all the time. Eight glasses
a day? Tell that to the Masai warriors, who survive on one sip of sandy
well-water each day while tracking antelope over marathon like distances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Concussions – What has happened to
sports? Kids are getting concussed these days from badminton birdies. Somehow
as soon as they changed from the medically acceptable term of <i>getting your bell rung</i> to <i>concussion, </i>incident rates went up 2000
%. In my day we used to get a concussion, and…then. Okay… lost my train of thought<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Vaccines that will kill you, or at
least render you autistic – I have a vaccination scar on my arm. It kept me
from getting polio, measles, scarlet fever, probably the plague and God knows
what else. How did not getting vaccinated become a thing?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Every singer that sounds like they
are perpetually auditioning for The Voice – Listen to some Joe Cocker and come
back when you stop trying to sound like Rhianna. (That is a <i>bad</i> thing in case you are confused on
where I stand)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Craft Brews Gone Berserk – Hops is
one of the things that makes beer delicious when used in a judicious manner. Somewhere
along the line, every craft brewer out there thought they needed to out-hop and
out-weird everyone else. Super-Hoptastic Banana Peel Brew is not a good idea
for a flavor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">9.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Inability to Fail – How about a
generation of kids who legally can’t fail a grade, be cut from a team or
experience any other type of disappointment in life? This trend will keep the
drug companies and therapists in business for years to come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">10.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Names that have weird spellings but
are really the same name. Allisa, Alyssa, Elisa, Alisha. Are you being a cool
parent or are you just making life difficult for her teachers? Four variations
of Alyssa in the same class? Go sit next to Ayden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-66015458541384205052015-02-14T14:58:00.001-08:002015-02-15T03:57:07.248-08:00Love the Song...Hate the Band. A Top 10<div class="MsoNormal">
For
whatever reason, it just happens. A band that you would otherwise hate somehow
breaches your good taste defenses and the next thing you know Billie Jean is on
all of your play lists. You might even find yourself defending them just a
little bit. “Bon Jovi? Eww… give me a
break. Oh, except for Dead or Alive<i>, </i>that’s
<i>such</i> a good song.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Stranglehold – Ted Nugent<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: All the other screeching crap by Ted Nugent sounds perfectly suited
for the drunken juvenile rednecks that it was written for. Wang Dang Sweet
Poontang? Come on…the guy is clearly a lunatic. Hey Ted…Foghat called and you’ve
been cut from that shitty 70’s reunion tour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: If Ted Nugent only wrote this one song in his entire career, he could
peacefully go to his grave as a legend. The
intro is a growly, grab you by the throat kind of guitar riff that Angus Young
himself would be proud of. A long song at over 8 minutes, it is not your
typical Ted Nugent fare. The funky break-down in the middle features a hypnotic
bassline underneath some really cool guitar work that is more Allman
Brothers than anything else. The Nuge may be a huge A-hole, but he done good on
this one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Silent Lucidity – Queensryche<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck:<b> </b>Queensryche is a
progressive metal band. Yes, it is exactly as bad as it sounds. Panterra meets
Dream Theatre. There is good reason that they have fourteen albums and 150 other
songs you have never heard of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: <i>Silent Lucidity</i> has this kind
of building thing where it just sucks you in. All the layers of guitars,
strings and vocals somehow come together in a masterful way. Is it cheesy?
Could be, but a little cheese (if it’s packaged well) can bring even the most
hardened of the metal-heads and the prog rockers together at last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Kid Rock – Bawitdaba<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: Is the Kid a rapper, a country duet star or a wannabe Bob Seger
Junior? All of the above choices lead to misery, as he’s not very good at any
of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: I don’t know what they are saying at the start of this song, but whatever
it is, it really gets me going. By the time “MY NAME IS KIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDD”
kicks in, I’m moshing around my kitchen, like its 1997. Great song. Period.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Motley Crue – Kickstart my Heart<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: Motley Crue is a generic hair metal band that somehow clawed its way
above the other crap bands of the time. They had a few not-so-edgy hits and
they <i>kind</i> of mattered until Guns and
Roses came around and blasted everybody out of the water.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: With the guitars revving up like engines, a thundering bass line and the
drums kicking you in the guts, there is no better work-out song than this. This
is the finest offering from the Crue, hands down. Oh yeah, the video is pretty
kick-ass too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Red Hot Chili Peppers – Give it away<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: Disclaimer – I have no hate in my heart for The Chili Peppers, but
neither will I ever willingly play one of their albums. They went from almost
unlistenable weird surf-funk to slightly more palatable and much more massive
mainstream. Anthony Kiedis evolved from that whole speak-singing thing to a
more seasoned vocalist, but still not what you would call great.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: Flea is a bad-ass bass player and he holds this mother down like nobody’s
business. This with the rapid fire guitar riffs and Kiedis’ weird vocal styling’s
make <i>Give it Away</i> just the coolest
thing since George Clinton emerged from the mother ship. The lyrics are
questionable but we don’t even care because it comes with a freaky video where
a bunch of silver painted dudes are jumping around in the desert. What’s not to like?<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Phil Collins – In the Air Tonight<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: Let me spell out the disaster that is Phil Collins – solo artist. You
Can’t Hurry Love, Easy Lover, Against All Odds and Sussudio. That there is some
serious adult contemporary schlock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good<i>: In the Air Tonight</i> is a wickedly
atmospheric song with one of the greatest drum breaks in the history of anything,
anywhere. It is possible however, that most everyone who owns this album has
never listened to the other tracks and that’s ok. They would only lead to disappointment
after being stacked up against this beauty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Molly Hatchet – Flirtin with disaster<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: If you took Lynyrd Skynyrd and made it a bit whiter and lot crappier then
you would be approaching Molly Hatchet. Biker music covered in biscuits and
gravy that all starts to sound the same after a while.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: This is the type of song that makes you drive a little faster and wish
the road was a little longer just so you could keep going. The tempo is
perfect, the guitars are epic and damn ya’ll if you don’t like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Radiohead - Creep<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: I tried to like Radiohead, I really did. I don’t hate ‘em, it’s just that
they are so damn mopey. Sounds like electronica gone sad. Hey Thom Yorke,
lighten up dude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: Creep…um, yep, still mopey, but cool lyrics, cool guitars and it’s kind
of catchy. Apparently Thom Yorke hates this song, which shouldn’t surprise us. He
only likes the full on angst version of Radiohead. Too bad the rest of the
world happens to like Creep better. Oh to be a tormented artist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Reflecktor – Arcade Fire<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: In my opinion Arcade Fire is over-produced, over rated and overall
yuck. Too many instruments and vocals layered overtop of inaccessible melodies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: Yes I know it’s very popular and trendy but I worked hard at listening to
this and I have, begrudgingly come to like it. I suspect that the Arcade Fire
purists will probably shun me for declaring my love for it. Why don’t you go make out with the Radiohead
purists and leave me alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Iron Maiden – Run to the Hills<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn down
the suck: If you like banging your head against a brick wall to loud staccato guitar
riffs and high pitched vocals that sound the same song after song then Iron
Maiden is your band. They had a good formula back in 1982 with <i>The Number of the Beast</i> but they could
never really recreate the magic and everything since then has been a weak copy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Turn up the
good: <i>Run to the Hills</i>, on the bright
side, is bold stand out where we hear the quintessential Bruce Dickinson vocals
that every metal band has since tried to emulate. If you’re a singer and can
handle the vocals on <i>Run to the Hills</i>,
you should probably try and start your own metal band because dude…you’re
awesome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-72438811478553178682015-01-09T12:36:00.000-08:002015-01-09T12:41:15.041-08:00An Open Letter all Parents of Grade 7's...call me if you need to <div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 150%;">Dear parents of Grade Seven students all across the
land, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">If your child has recently declared that they are the
only one in their class (or possibly the world) without a cellular phone, I am
offering up my name to use in your defense. I swear by the ghost of Steve Jobs
that my boy does not currently, nor will he in the near future, own a cell phone
- at least until he can come home from basketball practice without leaving at
least one shoe at the gym. So there you go…you can tell your child they are not
the only one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Maybe I’ll start a list one day of other parents who
won’t let their 12 year olds have a phone, so that we can stick together and
share the heat because believe me, I know the battle you’re fighting. You are
up against the almighty peer pressure, and the stakes are way high. In my day,
I only needed a $29 pair of Cougar boots and a plaid lumber jacket from Zellers
so I could fit in with the rest of the cool kids. Now, according to my son’s somewhat
suspicious intel, all his classmates are now in possession of a mobile device. From
his account, you’d think Apple had been standing on the street corners this
past Christmas, just giving away the iPhone 6 to any old tween, like candy
canes at the Santa Claus parade. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">I am indeed a mean one, Mr. Grinch, because upon
hearing his plea I really didn’t feel the slightest twinge of pity for this kid. Yes, it’s a pretty cool technology that
allows you to call up the sum total knowledge of the universe in a nano-second,
but the boy only has a few hours a day when he’s not plugged in. At his school,
they still play ball hockey at recess – much thanks to the principal for
allowing it. If I ever drove by at lunch
hour and saw him standing around with a clump of kids texting each other, I
would likely snap. There would be a whole bunch of yelling and broken phones
and charges pending.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">As for the boy, I am not even remotely worried that
this signals the social downfall of a smart, athletic and once popular child
who will now be treated no better than a leper. What <i>would</i> worry me is paying an extra $50 a month so that my kid can
text me from class – which they are forbidden to do – to tell me he needs a new
binder. And don’t get me started on responsibility. A certain 12 year old whose
iPod and Tablet screen both look like
the windshield of a Fiat that’s been in a head on with a gravel truck, is not
ready to look after an expensive phone. The school still has a phone and a very
capable secretary who will call me if he gets sick. If I need to contact the
boy, we just reverse the procedure and I call the school. I can even email his
teacher directly! Imagine that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">And so again I say to you, when your child claims they
are the only one without a cell, you call them out. Tell them there is at least
one poor kid in the land of Ontario Canada, whose dad is very mean and won’t
allow him to have a phone either. Mean with love I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-7562716297344629412014-12-18T16:22:00.000-08:002014-12-18T16:22:20.545-08:00The history of every computer ever purchased - a personal account<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">1985 </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman - Okay sir, your grand total for the
computer and the dot matrix printer comes to $2700, and I’ve signed you up for
a college level course in advanced programing, so you’ll know how to operate
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me – Then I can play solitaire…right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">1994 <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – It’s called Windows 3.1 and it’s much
better than DOS. I’m guessing the good folks at Microsoft won’t be able to
improve on this operating system at least until the millennium. <b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me – I’ll take it! Oh, and throw in that box of 100
floppy discs - those things never go bad.
Plus you never know when you’ll need to transport 1.4 megabytes of data.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">1995</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me – What the hell man….Windows 95? Well if it comes
with that internet thingy and solitaire, I’ll take it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – And, for an extra $600 you can have that
one with a CD burner. You can make mixed CDs which is just like making a mixed
tape…only way more complicated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">1999</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – You‘re buying a computer at exactly the
right time. You can skip Windows 97 and 98 and go straight to Windows
Millennium – the greatest operating system ever. Well, either that or Windows 2000. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me – What’s the difference?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – I’m not sure, but I can throw in a DVD
burner for an extra $600. You can burn your own DVDs and it only takes like…2
days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">2005 <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me - I like that it has 2 USB ports, but are you sure
I need a 40 gigabyte hard drive? I’m not running NASA out of my living room you
know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – You’ll be sorry. There is no such thing as
too much hard drive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">2009</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me - I need a bigger hard drive. I’ve been perfectly legally
downloading a lot of movies lately. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – This one has a 12 Godzilla-byte hard drive.
It will hold 7500 movies, 5 million photos and the entire archives of the
Smithsonian Institute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">2014 </span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Me - Ok. I’ll take that one with Windows 8, even
though I know you have windows 10 in the back there, and you’re going to roll
it out as soon as I walk out the door. Also, I’ll need one with a retinal scanner,
warp speed processor, breathalyzer and flux capacitor. And solitaire.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – And the cloaking device sir?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me – How much extra?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Salesman – Only $600 dollars sir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Me – I’ll take it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-43868073108243352492014-11-07T11:37:00.001-08:002014-11-07T14:40:43.395-08:00Eight Things That Suck About Being a Grownup<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">For starters, being over 40 and still having the word “suck” in one’s
vocabulary is, in some circles, not considered very grownup. While I’m not
actually classifying myself as a grownup yet, I do plan on being one in the
future; like by the time I hit fifty. Or fifty-five at the very latest, so that
I have some concrete plans for my retirement other than playing Frisbee and
listening to the Grateful Dead all day long. I know that sounds idyllic, but I could
be arthritic at that point and I might lose interest in Hacky–Sack as a form of
recreation, even though I’m totally wicked at it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Beware the following sucky things. They may come around and harsh your
buzz, and your vocabulary….dude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">1.<b> Tennis elbow</b> – yes, it’s actually
a real thing and I had it in both arms at once. At one point I thought it was
just an expression that people used to get out of helping you move, like “I
have a trick knee”, or “I have the scurvy”.
I know scurvy is real now too, thanks to my cousin Tom who was diagnosed
after the doctor found out that he survived for an entire semester on Mr.
Noodles and Molson Export.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">2. <b>Taxes</b> - To simplify, there
is this organization in our nation’s capital called Revenue Canada, made up of
a bunch of jerk-faces, who think it’s their job to monitor your tax returns. They
are completely without humour and do not appreciate receipts submitted in
crumpled ball format.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">3. <b>Being in Charge of Stuff</b> –
With great power comes great responsibility, and so by default, simply being an
adult often puts you “in charge” of things that could get you in trouble if you
screw up. As in, “you’re <b><i>in charge</i></b> of picking up the boy from
hockey, so please don’t leave him stranded at the arena…again”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">4. <b>Setting an Example</b> – Why
do I have to always set an example? Isn’t that what crossing guards and that
guy from Highway to Heaven are for? Sometimes I just want to lay on the couch
in my underwear, eating nachos and binge watching Family Guy without the boy
thinking I’m a giant loser. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">5. <b>Snow Days</b> – Kids version:
Buses are cancelled! WOOHOO! Fruit loops doused in chocolate milk, followed by video-games
and the building of snow forts. Grown-up
version: Shovel the driveway, find and pay a babysitter because now the kids
are home alone, try to avoid 30 car pileup on way to work, get home and shovel
the driveway again because the plow has filled it in. That’s a shite deal if
you ask me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">6. <b>Cholesterol</b> – Cholesterol
is an evil tool that doctors use to try and get you to give up beer and wing
night. Apparently the celery and carrots on the side don’t amount to the
recommended daily serving of veggies. In my twenties I could do a basket of
fries, a pound of suicide wings and a pitcher of beer right before bed and wake
up right as rain the next day. If I did that now, I would have heartburn,
nightmares and probably wet the bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">7. <b>Beer Belly</b> – See number 6,
but add more beer to the mix. A <i>lot</i>
more delicious beer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">8. <b>Hangovers</b> – Ok, yes you
can have a hangover when you are a teenager, but it is easily remedied with a
greasy breakfast and a jug of Gatorade. If I get a hangover now, it feels like
I spent the night in a tequila shot competition against the entire Irish
drinking team. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Your homework if you choose to accept it….a lovely rendition of I Don’t
Want to Grow Up.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-40273161853202983852014-10-25T13:43:00.001-07:002014-10-25T16:37:45.514-07:00Teenage Wasteland<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’ll be 13 in like, 3 months” said the boy to his
parents, and quite frankly a little too offhandedly considering the grave ramifications
of such a statement. And there it was, out there like a giant elephant, sucking
all the air out of the room. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Up until
this point the family was content to exist in a lovely state of denial, devoid
of any sullen teenagers and the accompanying eye rolling, incessant texting and
schlumping around the house muttering about how their parents are deliberately trying
to ruin their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The parents looked at each other and simultaneously attempted
to rearrange their facial expressions to something less horror stricken.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> “Mom, are you
crying?” asked the boy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Dad, why is mom crying? Oh my god…you’re crying too?
What is wrong with this family?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The parents knew then that the winds of change were blowing
through the household and troubled winds they were, for they would bring
parties with girls, and mood swings and general grief for both child and adult
alike, and the parents knew this because they had both been teenagers at one
point. They recalled the hormones and acne and moping, and they realized almost
at once that it was indeed payback time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The man, in particular, remembered certain events in
his own family that had turned his parent’s hair gray. There were three of
them, all two years apart, meaning of course that for a time, all were
teenagers at once. Looking back, it wasn’t even really a fair fight and it remains
a miracle that the parents never went over the edge and shot any of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The sister was the oldest, so her role was to begin
wearing down the parents first in order to widen the path for the two brothers.
And so, despite her accident prone nature, she somehow managed to get her driver’s
license and subsequently had to make the first call home to announce that she
had driven the car into – or more accurately through- a snow bank and could
someone please come and get her out? In short order, the sister became quite
adept at running out of gas and sliding into ditches, but her specialty was
bumping into the other vehicles in the driveway. It was a mystery how someone
so athletically inclined and who could expertly navigate a sailboat through a
crowded start line at a race could not park in a double wide driveway without
bashing into at least one other car. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the years that followed, the brothers also each managed
to crack up different cars to various degrees. At one point, the younger one somehow
actually careened off the side of the house, but by that time the wagon was so
beat up, the parents may not have even noticed the new scrape. The middle
brother nearly wrote off the Toyota, while skipping school no less, thereby
earning points for a double whammy. Actually, he was on a lunch break, but by
the time the police were finished charging him, it had run into third period
thereby requiring a call from the vice principal. I think by the end, the parents were told by
the insurance company that if they filed any more claims, they would have to
hand over one of the children to complete a two year internship at the brokerage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The other unenviable duty the sister had to perform
was to be the first to vomit in the car after calling for a ride home after a
party. So, not only was the father forced to stay up until midnight to play
taxi but he had to drive home in a stinky station wagon. The upshot of this was
the parents became wise to the dangers of picking up drunks, and would usually
encourage a designated driver amongst the teen’s peers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The brothers, being boys and exposed to the general
short circuiting found in the brains of all teenage males, were prone to
wreaking havoc and causing stress for the parents in other areas. Jumping off
bridges at the Green River, jumping over cars in the parking lot at the ski-hill
and driving around aimlessly at night with four or five other dimwits in the
wagon, trying to relieve boredom by committing various acts of mischief and general
civic damage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why is there a yield sign in your bedroom?” the
father would ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We found it in the ditch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well. Take it back, and make sure you bolt it on
properly. You could cause an accident”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">All three of them it seemed, were able to eat their
own body weight each week, so the mother took to shopping at the No Frills, stocking
up on bulk items with the non-descript yellow labels. Entire loaves of bread would disappear between
after school and dinner time, and enough milk was being consumed to sustain a small
village in Tibet. Amidst this, the house
somehow became a favourite hangout for various hungry teens and the brothers
were fond of feeding their friends at odd hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Where are all the hamburgers?” the mother would ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We ate them last night when we got home.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“At midnight? Tell your friend Danny to eat at home
once in a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It was around this time that the father started
drinking Guinness, the only beer he could find that none of his offspring were
willing to steal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remarkably during this time there was only one
suspension from school, involving the elder brother – a non-incident really - that
was more of a misunderstanding between him and the vice principal as to the
definition of mooning. The youngest brother did manage to get himself placed on
academic probation (or as some may say, <i>kicked
out</i>) from university. Twice.
Fortunately, the father had pursued a similar route in his academic career,
so this provided a sense of camaraderie between them, thereby lessening the
fallout. The mother was not impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The mother was a worrier at heart, so the older two at
least had the sense to lie to her when they took the younger one to his first
Grateful Dead concert. She found out eventually, but by that time, so many
concerts and road trips had passed that her coping strategy was to stay at the
cottage all summer thereby avoiding the gory details. She would leave them
money for food, which would be subsequently divided into an equitable 80-20 split
between beer and food. She had an inkling, but they never looked badly
malnourished, so all was well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">To round things out, there were speeding tickets, break-ups
and the inevitable crappy fast food jobs, which made the parents realize that
whoever had the audacity to say that your teenage years are the best of your
life, obviously never vomited out the back window of a Ford Tempo doing 120 km,
because the driver refuses to stop, while the other four occupants of the car
are singing Iron Maiden’s <i>Run to the
Hills </i>at full volume, even though there is no radio.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remembering all of this, the boy’s father looked at
his son, a boy of twelve and three quarters, and realized that it’s not just
the parents who will suffer but the teens as well, and this gave him a small
measure of comfort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then again, the sister did turn out okay with a Doctorate
in Rehabilitation Science, although she still insists on driving like a blind
person. The youngest (much to his mother’s relief) finished his schooling
before he was thirty and found a career as a chef and later became a teacher. The
elder brother also became a teacher and actually went to work for the Principal
who many years before had suspended him in the name of all things decent. He
also keeps a blog, which his son never reads. Hopefully.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-10425910105755413132014-09-23T07:16:00.000-07:002014-09-23T07:18:25.894-07:0010 types of people who I will never invite to afternoon tea<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p>Note: I don’t have afternoon tea, but if I did, the following
miscreants would not be on the guest list.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->People who say they are vegetarians, but eat
fish. A fish is not, in fact, a vegetable. This makes you a veggie-poseur and a
jerk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Canadians who are ruining it for the rest of us.
In the span of 8 months, Justin Beiber and Rob Ford have somehow managed to
eclipse the goodwill established over the last 150 years by the likes of Sir
John A. MacDonald, Anne Murray and Alex Trebek.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Kids who are allergic to Peanut Butter. Not to
lay a heavy on you if you are peanut allergic, but you have managed to ruin
lunchtime for the majority of the free world. Makes me wish I lived in a place
where they don’t freak out at every little case of the sniffles, or anaphylactic
shock. I’ll bet kids in Russia are still allowed to take PB & J sandwiches to
school. If they can get hold of some bread that is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->People who wear track suits with large blingy
jewelry. Make up your mind. Are you an athlete, or Liberace? You can’t be both.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Tailgaters. Not the sausage eating Cleveland
Browns fans, but the ones who are ramming their car up your arse when you are
just trying to pass someone. Dude….it’s a blizzard and I’m already doing 120,
so give me more than 2 seconds to get by this 60 foot transport truck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->My ex-neighbor Jimmy. – Don’t worry about it…he
knows what he did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Guys with chin-strap beards. You combo that with
flat brimmed ball cap and those shorts that are almost long enough to be pants,
but not quite, and you are entering serious d-bag territory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">8.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->People who do not understand the concept of the
drive through. If you are going to be feeding more than two people, and one of
you is ordering anything more complicated than a muffin and a double-double,
then you best get out of your vehicle and go speak to the nice people inside.
In addition to holding up the convoy, you are spoiling the Tim Hortons “pay it
forward” concept with your $55 order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">9.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Anyone who uses Twitter. I’m only saying this
because I still don’t really know what Twitter is, and I feel left out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">10.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Self-righteous bloggers who take themselves too
seriously. Get a life losers, and stop complaining about every little thing. Nobody
cares what you think.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-87656195947981629162014-08-11T13:00:00.000-07:002014-10-25T13:45:50.503-07:00Dental Floss<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">The last time I went to the dentist I </span><span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">accidentally</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> admitted to the hygienist that I rarely, if ever, flossed, which was apparently
a grievous error. She made me promise to floss everyday, and in my weakened
state I agreed. I said I would floss</span><b style="line-height: 115%;"> </b><i style="line-height: 115%;"><b>daily</b></i><span style="line-height: 115%;">
until our next visit, six months hence</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day One: I’ll show her. I’ve got the resolve of a
really petty person who would change his entire oral hygiene ambition just to
get back at a bullying dental hygienist.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day Two: What the hell is up with all this blood?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day Three: Late for Work! I’ll floss twice tomorrow.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day Seven: Oops, missed a couple of days. Will floss,
like, five times tomorrow.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day Nine: She’s not the boss of me. I floss on my own
terms.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day 174: Oh God. She’s going to know I haven’t been
flossing when I visit tomorrow. Maybe she has been fired since my last visit.
Maybe she died.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day 175: We have agreed to a ceasefire. She will stop
badgering me about flossing, and I will not <i><b>cause
a scene</b></i> again in the dental office. I agreed to take home the free floss
anyway.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Day 176: They are trying to trick me with this minty
floss.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-10579440837511091032014-07-10T12:50:00.000-07:002014-07-10T15:31:24.430-07:00How to Ruin Your Child's Life in 12 Minutes<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>A very brief account of the day I picked my
son up from school dressed as Paul Stanley from Kiss.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I did not start out the day expecting to
descend on the East Oro Public School in the guise of a lurid, cross-dressed,
face painted, high heeled, star-child. My only directive that afternoon was to
join my fellow air-band members on stage at our school’s year end assembly and
proceed to rock and roll all night (well, period four anyway) and party every
day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Let the record show that I will take any
chance I get to play rock star and preen about on the stage, so of course the
chance to be Kiss, the Holy Grail of dress-up, was too good to pass over. However,
if one is going to tackle impersonating the Motor-city rockers, there is simply
no way to go but full throttle, lest one run the risk of making a fool of
oneself. (My mantra says squeezing into one’s wife’s black tights is only
foolish if you do it badly). Under this counsel, my mates and I went the extra
mile to prepare for our big show stopper. Weeks of construction with glue guns
and studs, fiber-glassing high boots and searching for just the right wig. I
stuck to a steady diet of brown liquor, Red-Bull and Skittles, just to get my
body acclimatized to the R&R lifestyle. No one could question our
dedication and on the day of the assembly, we were over an hour in costume and
makeup getting ready. That’s show biz for you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">We rocked the house in a blur of lights and
smoke the likes of which our school stage hasn’t seen since Glass Tiger played
the school dance back in 1987. Needless to say, all the effort was too great to
be wasted on three minutes of glory, and after the performance, I jokingly
announced that I was going to go pick up the boy from school dressed in full
regalia. There were some ha ha’s all around, and then I heard the devil on my
shoulder say to my endorphin riddled and highly suggestible brain, “Yes, that
is a very good idea. You <b><i>should</i></b><i> </i>go pick up the boy dressed like this. It will be cool!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And so… barring any disregard for my own
safety, I hopped in the car with my 5 inch platform boots and headed on down
the highway. I probably should have taken at least my right boot off to get
some traction on the pedal, but I had too much adrenalin going and plus they
are an absolute bitch to get off. I was just leaving the parking lot, when I
had a niggling feeling that I should probably call ahead to the school and let
them know I was coming, so as not to trigger a Level 5 lockdown as soon as I
walked through the doors. I immediately had visions of a swat team being
deployed to come and take out the weirdo who had arrived to scare the children. </span>I called ahead and spoke to the secretary,
as per protocol, when you are picking up a child early.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Just wanted to let you know that I will be
picking up Kelton at 3pm.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“That’s fine Mr. McEwen. He’ll be all ready
to go. Is there anything else?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“No. Well yes, sort of. You know Kiss? The
Band?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Of course. Dreadful band.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well I’m in costume as one of them, and I
was hoping to go right down to Kelton’s classroom and sort of…surprise him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Okay, now it was starting to sound weird when
I had to explain myself to a grownup. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“So, maybe you could let the principal
know, you know, just so it doesn’t get weird.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“I can’t wait.” She said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I arrived 10 minutes later, parked the car
and sat for maybe 30 seconds contemplating what I was about to do. There was no
backing out now, so I took a deep breath and headed for the front doors. As I entered the building, there was a tiny
kid, about grade three, coming down the otherwise empty hall towards me. She
stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me, as though she had just witnessed an
Alien in a fistfight with Santa Claus. Then her survival instinct kicked in and
she shot into the girls bathroom, disappearing as quick as a wink. Poor kid,
her parents will never believe her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The secretary immediately burst out
laughing when she saw me, which was enough to announce my arrival to the principal
who came out of her office with her camera ready. She was very accommodating and
I had my picture taken for the fiftieth time that day, presumably for the
school website. Then she escorted me down to Kelton’s classroom where
apparently, no one had told the teacher Mr. J, exactly what was happening, because
he looked pretty shocked when I walked in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I threw up my hands in the double devil
salute and stood there to absolute silence for about 20 seconds. Every mouth
was open and all eyes were as big as pie plates. Finally, one girl in the front
row blurted out, “KISS!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“You got it!” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Hello son!” I said, pointing directly at
Kelton, who, for not the first time, was convinced that I was not his real dad. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Then it was 20 questions for a while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Do you always dress up at high school?
Where are the other guys? Why are you here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So while the boy was grabbing his stuff,
the principal insisted that I visit the grade 8 class, so they could bear
witness to the crazy times they were sure to encounter at High School next
year. Eventually, when I was through my tenure as show and tell object, we
left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I tried to gauge the boy’s reaction on the
way home, but he was fairly silent. In awe of his old man probably. Or in shock
from emotional trauma. Poor little guy....look at him there, trying not to cry.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy-RbxFWZnPYvobLZdMMu5CriLrF-sN86qWOL5yBx5UaQ2rkFSaExlmt2F2d_IrW-sPDQHCAj0JTWcQGcC64Y5lGRKBJ53z0iod0xgMDHRZ77188CYIDemD-DQ69D0-dDjg0shMNeVPPs/s1600/kiss2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy-RbxFWZnPYvobLZdMMu5CriLrF-sN86qWOL5yBx5UaQ2rkFSaExlmt2F2d_IrW-sPDQHCAj0JTWcQGcC64Y5lGRKBJ53z0iod0xgMDHRZ77188CYIDemD-DQ69D0-dDjg0shMNeVPPs/s1600/kiss2.jpg" height="320" width="184" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US"> The whole band....</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6phGMTxgUeLyhMkEDJLJFmdd1i6DMSUi4fGUjoUi8I2eZtTFvZI74ziB1XRRS7iBBLmyQLT3b4u51eD8RdFcBjrtilU4S_bkmYQn4TdJbsaC-H15YrE1w6tw4hB21DT0rnfkNz0dTZY/s1600/kiss3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6phGMTxgUeLyhMkEDJLJFmdd1i6DMSUi4fGUjoUi8I2eZtTFvZI74ziB1XRRS7iBBLmyQLT3b4u51eD8RdFcBjrtilU4S_bkmYQn4TdJbsaC-H15YrE1w6tw4hB21DT0rnfkNz0dTZY/s1600/kiss3.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-48918583621876670642014-05-18T08:05:00.001-07:002014-05-18T17:19:02.775-07:00Top 10 Dogs in Song<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"> <span lang="EN-US">“Good dags. D’ya like dags?” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">This
asked by the near unintelligible character Mickey, played by Brad Pitt in the
movie Snatch. Dags, it turns out, is the gypsy pronunciation of dogs. Well, I
happen to like dags. I like them a lot. As such, listed in no particular order
are some songs that have in the title, are about, or otherwise make reference
to those flea bitten, bed-hogging critters that we let into our lives.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">1. Bron-Y-Aur Stomp – Led Zeppelin<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Even
if you could understand Welsh, a god-awful language characterized by too many
y’s and not enough vowels, there is no hidden dog reference in the title. Bron-Y-Aur
is a nod to a cottage in Wales where the Zep were doing some writing way back
when.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Title
aside, in Bron-y-aur stomp, Robert Plant does sing about walking through the
countryside with his old Blue Merle Shepard, which I misheard for most of my
formative Zeppelin years. I thought he was talking about a girl but it turns
out it was a dang dog. Blue eyed Merle
is not a far stretch from blue eyed girl, so you forgive my fault. The long and
short of the tale, no pun intended, is that in the world of heartbreak,
apparently losing a dog hurts worse than losing a girl. Who knew the Golden God
was such a softie?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">“When
you’re old and your eyes are dim, there ain’t no shep gonna happen again” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">A
lovely sit-down version from 1975. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">2. Dog Days are Over – Florence and the
Machine<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">I
have no explanation as to why I love this song so much. Maybe it’s the harp or
maybe its just because the video is really cool. As for the dog days, those are supposed to be
the hottest days of the year, characterized by inactivity or sluggishness. As near as I can tell, Florence’s advice is that
these heady days of summer are over and something bad is coming down the pipe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">“Run
fast for your mother, run fast for your father, Run for your
children, for your sisters and brothers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">If
you haven’t seen this video, it’s a feast for the eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">3. Old King – Neil Young<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">You
have to guess that Neil would have a hound dog or two following him around amidst
the vintage cars at his ranch. He’s just that kind of a guy, and so when he writes
a song about a dog, you know it’s from the heart. Turns out, Old King was a
real dog, but his name was Elvis. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"></span><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">This from the
Greek in LA, 9/22/92…</span><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-left: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">After a few warmup chords on the banjo just before Old
King...<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in;">
<i><span lang="EN-US">"This a song about my dog.
His name is Elvis. Elvis is riding on Jimi Hendrix's bus now. He traveled with
me for many years. Well, I changed his name to 'King' in the song to avoid any
confusion.” </span></i><span lang="EN-US">(transcript from thrasherswheat.org –
thanks!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 1in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">4. Black Eyed Dog – Nick Drake<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Anything
Nick Drake ever wrote is beautiful and usually chilling, with Black Eyed Dog
being no exception. If you don’t know about Nick Drake, you are not alone. He
died in 1974 after releasing three mostly unheard albums. There is no known
video footage of him and he rarely performed live or even consented to be
interviewed. His work is recognized now mostly because his song Pink Moon was
featured in a VW commercial. He has become cool in a way that Wille Nelson or
turntables are cool. We just never knew it before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">This
song is 3 minutes and 28 seconds but it might haunt you forever…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">5. Pink Floyd – Dogs<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Dogs
is a full 17 minutes which basically ate up the entire first side of the
Animals release. The song is a comparison how human behavior in the cutthroat
world of business is no more than that of dogs being beaten down by man. It’s a
bit of downer even by Pink Floyd standards, but as with much of their other
stuff, never seems to grow old. Possibly this is because of all the crazy chord
changes and weird key signatures. Or maybe it’s the intense flashbacks it
triggers that are keeping me entertained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Also
of special note, Dogs is featured in agreat scene from WKRP with Dr. Johnny
Fever and Arthur Carlson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">6. Spine of a Dog – Moe<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Moe
is not known for writing songs with strong lyrical content. What they do best
is play with such ferocity that their songs could be about boiled potatoes and
they would still be mesmerizing. Spine of a Dog has absolutely nothing to do
with dogs, and as far as I can tell, it has nothing to do with anything
actually. Well…except potatoes and pinball machines. Nonsense lyrics are a
vehicle to showcase the jamming talents of these boys from Buffalo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">This
version transitions into another song at about 9 minutes, if your head hasn't exploded by then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">7. Black Dog – Led Zeppelin<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Legend
has it that a black dog kept wandering into the studio during the recording
session. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">There is a 1972 bootleg with the following story
told by<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Plant" title="Robert Plant"><span style="color: windowtext;">Plant</span></a><span class="apple-converted-space">.
(It must be true because I read it on Wikipedia)</span></span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Let me tell you 'bout this poor old
dog because he was a retriever in his early days, and the only thing he could
ever find in his late days was his old lady who lived two houses away from
where we were recording. And he used to go see the old lady quite regularly,
but after he'd "boogied" and everything else he couldn't get back.
And we used to carry him back.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="apple-converted-space"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">I’m trying
not to have a man crush on Robert Plant with his ridiculous blouse and truck
stop belt buckle, but damn…</span></span><b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/jtN8oBjMr_E/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/jtN8oBjMr_E&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/jtN8oBjMr_E&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">8. Hound Dog – Elvis<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Hey
Elvis, why are you so down on hound dogs? My neighbors had a hound dog, and he
was not cryin’ all the time. He was only cryin’ when he was tied up outside in
inclement weather. Hound Dog is a
straight up 12 bar blues song written by the exemplary team of Leiber and
Stoller, and when placed in the hands of the King, became one of the greatest
Rock and Roll songs of all time. There’s
nothing to it really. Two short verses, where the words are mostly repeated,
and what passes for a chorus is “You ain’t
never caught a rabbit, and you ain’t no friend of mine.” Lesson to
aspiring song writers. Keep it simple, and get an Elvis type of icon to record
your song.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">I
think we’ll go with skinny Elvis on this one. Bonus tracks -Love Me Tender and
Heartbreak Hotel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">9. Diamond Dogs – David Bowie<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">As
a young lad, on numerous occasions I had the <i><u>Bowie - Changes One</u></i> record sleeve out, reading the words to
Diamond Dogs, but to this day the meaning remains elusive to me. I ‘ve heard
the song a thousand times and as near as I can tell, he is talking about a half
man, half beast creatures that prowl the streets of New York City. Dogs or no
dogs, it’s a great song. Let’s leave it at that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Below, some typical 1970’s Bowie weirdness, and some cool rehearsal footage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/pbE2YPwedRA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">10. I Love My Dog – Cat Stevens<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">Interestingly,
this was the first song ever released by Cat Stevens. It’s slightly corny like
one of those inspirational posters you see in the guidance counselor’s office
that has puppies in a basket, and one puppy is clinging to the side and it says
“hang in there”. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 115%;">The Cat says, “you may fade, but my dog will always come
through”, clearly summing up the sentiment of the whole piece, meaning in a contest
of companions, the one who showers you with unbridled love and affection will
always win out over the one who comes home drunk, smelling like a Parisian
brothel. We love our dogs and they love us back, twice as hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-51140561595926657252014-03-27T10:05:00.000-07:002014-03-27T13:41:19.961-07:00Of Quitters, Winners, Whiners, and Sissies.<div class="MsoNormal">
House rules in our joint dictate that barring any broken
limbs, if you start an activity, you finish it, and if you don’t want to go
back next year then you don’t have to. You can deal with any post-traumatic
stress and repressed emotions in your 30’s like the rest of us. Bear witness to
house league soccer, rep soccer, karate, piano lessons, power skating,
lacrosse, terrain park skiing and mountain bike camp to name a few. All cast aside to make room for the promise of
more exciting pursuits. At this rate, we’ll be looking at purchasing a wing
suit and base jumping lessons just to keep this child’s adrenalin up to
acceptable levels. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Letting kids find their thing often seems to be harder on
the parents than any of the kids who are actually doing the thing. After going
through a heartbreaker with lacrosse one year, I realized how easy it is to
turn into an overbearing tiger-mom. Case in point: boy picks up a lacrosse
stick for the first time at a skills camp in March, starts the season in April
and by July is among the league leaders in points. He’s making the players
around him better, he’s seeing the floor in a way the others aren’t and
seemingly scoring at will. Then he goes to lacrosse camp in August and wins the
coaches award. Well that was all the encouragement I needed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my mind, we’re just 8 short years away from a full
scholarship at Cornell University. I can see him now, number 11 out on the
field among the storied Big Red lacrosse team, smashing those pesky Princeton
Tigers to smithereens. Mrs. Rock and Roll Librarian and I will come down on
weekends to watch games and bask in the social elitism only an Ivy League
school can provide.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instantly I knew we needed to get him into field lacrosse because
that’s the American game. This is where I was cut off at the knees.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Dad, I don’t think I want to do lacrosse next year”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What? Why not? You’re awesome at it.” I say through the
tears. My tears I mean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s too rough. I don’t like all the slashing and getting
hit from behind.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But…how will I ever get to Cornell?” I’m really crying now.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had hoped perhaps I wouldn’t pass the sissy gene on to the
boy but no such luck. Getting cross checked into the boards is not my idea of a
good time either, but I thought maybe he would be tougher than me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You know, field lacrosse is not nearly as rough as box
lacrosse” I say weakly, knowing my dream of living vicariously through the boy is
about to evaporate before my eyes. That was a tough one to let go, however
briefly it tempted me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And now, a long basketball season is winding down and spring
ball hockey is ramping up, creating an inevitable showdown that threatens the tenuous
balance between the two sports. Fate has cruelly intervened to complicate things as the two activities fall on the same night. To make matters worse,
the boy is captain of the basketball team, and as such, he needs to be at every
practice to demonstrate his commitment and leadership skills. Problem is that
we have reached basketball saturation and have become giddy with anticipation of
a fresh ball hockey season.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do I have to go to basketball practice?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes. You only have two practices left, and then you can
concentrate on ball hockey.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cue mumbling under breath, eye rolling and dramatic slamming
of objects. I know it’s immature of me, but it’s the only communication they
understand. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What we don’t want is for one activity (in our case, basketball)
to drag on so long that it becomes a chore. It’s a balance of finding the fun
and still showing your stick-to-it-ness. If the kid really wants it, then
presumably, they’ll roll with the ups and downs and do it. If they want to move
on after the season is over, then in my books that’s fine. I guess that’s how
you get well-rounded offspring who can go from band practice to swim practice
and all points in between.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So far, we’ve been lucky in that he hasn’t shown any
interest in the drum kit that resides in our basement, or asked for bagpipe
lessons. I’m sure I can handle driving to tournaments 2 hours away better than
I can handle the screech of the pipes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t get me wrong. Every day I count myself lucky to have a
great kid who is athletic and smart and interested in a multitude of things,
including the not so desirable stuff like video games and junk food. So what if
he has dashed my dreams of being the dad to a Cornell student? At least I’m not
the dad to a mid-season quitter. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-8301988655403599392014-03-10T06:53:00.001-07:002014-03-10T08:37:17.003-07:00Dear winter...you win.<div class="MsoNormal">
Congratulations
winter…you have finally broken my spirit. Are you happy now?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">This
revelation came without fanfare or really even a fight, but I knew it was over
when I quit shoveling about five weeks ago. I just didn’t care anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Normally I
love to fire up my snow blower and clear the driveway, but after the last
significant snowfall, I just didn’t have it in me. Then the plow went by and left
an extra foot at the end of the driveway, and I knew I couldn’t face it. We
just drove over it, and now the ruts are so deep it looks like we staged a
tractor pull there. After cleaning off the hot tub lid and deck on a near daily
basis, I gave that up too. All it’s doing now is festering under two feet of
snow and running up the hydro meter. The sheds are inaccessible, the barbeque
is buried and we only have one door out of four we can still use. We’re one
more good snowfall away from being completely cut off from civilization. What
are we, in Timmins for God sake? (Sorry Timmins, but…you know).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My kid is
now going to grow up and be able to say to his kids, “When I was your age, we still
had four feet of snow in the back yard in the middle of May, and my dad nearly
turned into Jack Nicholson in <b><i>The Shining</i></b><i> </i>when the snow slid off the roof and crushed his barbeque.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">This is
Canada. It’s supposed to be cold. It’s also March and there is still so much
snow out back that the dogs won’t even leave the poop trail. That’s right…the
designated area for dogs to relieve themselves amounts to a series of channels
carved out of the snow. It looks like World War One trench warfare out there,
and it has been shrinking since December, creating an increasingly concentrated
toxic area which is going to be very unpleasant when the snow finally does
melt. March is supposed to be melty and sunny and a time of joyous laughter.
Instead, it’s all crappy and grey and filled with ice dams and misery. Oh did I
forget to mention the ice dam? At a house we rent out in town, there is an ice
blockage on the roof the size of a small glacier. One of the bedroom ceilings
is ready to collapse and insurance doesn't cover it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Maybe it’s global
warming or El Nino or maybe I just didn't build my winter solstice fire big
enough to appease the Gods. Either way, if this happens again, I’m going to
have to consider applying for a green card and moving to Texas. I could
handle hurricanes, republicans and no hockey if it meant doing it at 85 °. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
I have tried
to embrace you winter, I really have. I've been out snowshoeing, cross country
skiing, and skating on the pond. Your embrace unfortunately, has turned into a
creepy, too long bear hug and you are making me uncomfortable. It’s time to let
go and we’ll see you next year.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-16391968079648329732014-02-26T18:29:00.000-08:002014-02-26T18:32:59.899-08:00Top 10 Bands that Dress to Kill<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Elvis wore a leather jacket, Jim Morrison wore leather pants and Nash the Slash...remember him?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Well, he wore surgical bandages all over his head, a white top hat and sunglasses. Some bands use clothes as part of the act, and for some, it becomes the act. In no particular order, here are 10 bands that took their fashion choices to the next level. Remember, we're not here to judge, as it probably seemed like a good idea at the time and also they were very likely high out of their minds on cocaine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">1. Judas
Priest<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Before
there was Megadeath, Motley Crue and Metallica, there was the Priest. Judas
Priest that is. Sometime late in the 70’s, they started taking their metal
image very seriously and began to dress the part. Think S & M club meets a
really skinny, slightly effeminate motorcycle gang. We had seen leather pants
on lots of dudes before but Judas Priest really went the extra mile, adding
studs to everything and upping the tightness factor. Right or wrong, they may
have been solely responsible for the fashion choices of countless 80’s metal
bands that followed. The Scorpions, Whitesnake, Slaughter, Ratt, and those of
that ilk. That’s a lot of leather legacy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUzVniuUN7KLa7rc73StD9Ikus_6zM1wDuYvzGJLkFKgfWwewhsWBAFUGCZI2ep9YNbqbGLNqbbNBdFaOYwVWikXB9DXOzi9WUD6-YwaEXfy8ca3e7BQ8FCcVTzghnWMuLTsFIsWIEqM/s1600/Judas-Priest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUzVniuUN7KLa7rc73StD9Ikus_6zM1wDuYvzGJLkFKgfWwewhsWBAFUGCZI2ep9YNbqbGLNqbbNBdFaOYwVWikXB9DXOzi9WUD6-YwaEXfy8ca3e7BQ8FCcVTzghnWMuLTsFIsWIEqM/s1600/Judas-Priest.jpg" height="255" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">2. Primus <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">They have
been labeled the weirdest band in the world. If that means singing Wynona’s Big
Brown Beaver dressed up as pigs, then yes, they may be contenders to the title.
The madness of Primus is directly proportional to the amount of Les Claypool in
the mix. If we follow him through his career of solo projects and side bands, a
dress up theme is never far off. Claypool seems to pull oddball characters into
his orbit like a giant black hole of weirdness. Members of Les Claypool’s Frog
Brigade have been known to wear Planet of the Apes masks, reptilian
costumes and other critter themed gear
during concerts. And yes, in the Bucket of Bernie Brains band, he had a guitar
player that wore a KFC bucket over his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">3. Devo <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Devo put a nerd-rock
twist on the dress up game and often sported what looked like B-movie Hazmat
suits and plastic planters on their heads. They loved outfits and they loved symmetry,
always uniform in their dress. As kids, maybe they all wanted to be astronauts
when they grew up because there seems to be a science fiction theme going on
with all those outfits.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCiqp856wy9l2hM7-N23JSOPSbT9SBnoB9BvrYjjiVVMBpQwWp2x02zT5QQ5hYYHvsiEkB9MuP6HTOXM9jro80PPUpVPEHlROEP4nOmWLziouQl7V8f06ehXP-Ih9qaYzbijLpJzK7ZM/s1600/devo-band-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCiqp856wy9l2hM7-N23JSOPSbT9SBnoB9BvrYjjiVVMBpQwWp2x02zT5QQ5hYYHvsiEkB9MuP6HTOXM9jro80PPUpVPEHlROEP4nOmWLziouQl7V8f06ehXP-Ih9qaYzbijLpJzK7ZM/s1600/devo-band-6.jpg" height="305" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">4. Slipknot<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I don’t
know anything about Slipknot or their music, except that they scare the crap
out of me. From the state of their outfits, I’m guessing thrash metal mixed
with a dash of crazy. Like Kiss, this is one of those bands that says “to hell
with dress up, we’re going deep into character and we’re not coming out until
we’re washed up and ready for our own reality show.” Thumbs up for the commitment
boys. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnD0dqbg1HBe68t8kJ7vzvuKG44lLqsN3B5sHdGPSRUQ7GuRst4JUWXXF96ihxwzj95Np2g-l87SoFyKzDapZYeAtXUBPzC89bNMgmmomu1jSoldVgDw43rx7tUGH2PEJkO0VyQ3z6K0/s1600/Slipknot-Wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnD0dqbg1HBe68t8kJ7vzvuKG44lLqsN3B5sHdGPSRUQ7GuRst4JUWXXF96ihxwzj95Np2g-l87SoFyKzDapZYeAtXUBPzC89bNMgmmomu1jSoldVgDw43rx7tUGH2PEJkO0VyQ3z6K0/s1600/Slipknot-Wallpaper.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">5.Village
People<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">When I was
in grade four, I got a copy of the Village People for my birthday. <br />
I was fascinated by the cover photo, depicting them as the heroic looking macho
men that they were. Then sometime later, my sister revealed to me that they were
in fact, super gay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> “No they’re not.” I replied, because the only
gay person I knew was Jack Tripper from Three’s Company (even though he was
faking) and he did not dress cool like the village people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Look at
how tough looking the construction guy is.” I countered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“His jeans
are ripped. And look at the motorcycle guy…he has all that leather and a
moustache.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“That’s
what gay men dress like.” She said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Do you
really think you could ride a motorcycle in pants with no butt coverage?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I was not
convinced. Regardless, setting aside the actual functionality of the outfits
and the cultural stereotyping, they still managed to sell 100 million records
along the way. Political correctness wouldn’t be invented for a few years yet,
so no harm no foul I suppose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrURx0uZmPUBMFYno50vBv9vvznaxK55Juk1algpMEfaK9TprGLEZE67xvLzJxEgyOAGAaDz7oqk6Neu00bF5StkaQmZX7wI7z0sdK6-Q3ToHjAMjRTw_M_mA5HF-yGJROqT6F9vktJE/s1600/the_villagepeople..jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrURx0uZmPUBMFYno50vBv9vvznaxK55Juk1algpMEfaK9TprGLEZE67xvLzJxEgyOAGAaDz7oqk6Neu00bF5StkaQmZX7wI7z0sdK6-Q3ToHjAMjRTw_M_mA5HF-yGJROqT6F9vktJE/s1600/the_villagepeople..jpeg" height="267" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">6. Kiss<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To merely
say that Kiss wore costumes is a bit like saying Muhammad Ali merely boxed. Kiss
took what Alice Cooper was doing in the wardrobe department, multiplied it by
10 and suddenly they became game changers. They added make-up and became comic
book characters that could sing and play (sort of). The outfits did change over
the years by the way. I learned about some of the nuances and evolution of the
Kiss costumes one year when I was researching for an airband performance. (Yes,
it was that serious). Any Kiss fanatic will be able to match the era with the
costume variations, but I’m not in that camp. I do know however, that between
1973 and 1983, they never played a show without the costumes and make-up,
igniting a furious marketing storm that still goes on to this day. They still
play live occasionally, but those first 10 years were what made them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTblvjSvFCPsx-ufOksQkvwySk51_NXGcMrFvjYiXdUXNWlvtAxNPD4aOD5FMT7NZMwwdle3Is3RmTSCGSCtwypVj2eoV4y-6xs3id8K21NfTOuDwpNhxZivZ013lxALBnKkZ2kaYygT8/s1600/KISS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTblvjSvFCPsx-ufOksQkvwySk51_NXGcMrFvjYiXdUXNWlvtAxNPD4aOD5FMT7NZMwwdle3Is3RmTSCGSCtwypVj2eoV4y-6xs3id8K21NfTOuDwpNhxZivZ013lxALBnKkZ2kaYygT8/s1600/KISS.jpg" height="285" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">7. Gwar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Gwar is
hard to explain if you have never seen what they wear. Think of low budget
special effects creatures like the ones in the old Power Rangers t.v. show and
you are pretty much there. There is a comedic aspect to them that goes along
with their graphic lyrics so at least they're consistent in their ridiculousness. They are not scary
like Slipknot, but they are original and they beat them to the punch. They
upped the ante from Kiss and Alice Cooper and turned it into a freak show
latex-extravaganza of metal. In the family tree of dress up,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No Gwar = no
Slipknot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99VAjkBMJ0KhhWeXGqYwgXiym0ze-r02EkFv1POKnlA4WOd91S8HhhFuEzCxOeionrU_9Ji2arDnq68scFKqflv6yDF3Ou0G5WMPpwmpWPEVKJ5sMdiSwJwsnCoXPW-yRhEI94bVi0E0/s1600/gwar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99VAjkBMJ0KhhWeXGqYwgXiym0ze-r02EkFv1POKnlA4WOd91S8HhhFuEzCxOeionrU_9Ji2arDnq68scFKqflv6yDF3Ou0G5WMPpwmpWPEVKJ5sMdiSwJwsnCoXPW-yRhEI94bVi0E0/s1600/gwar.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">8. Abba<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">This band
had a couple of things going for them that created the perfect storm of
outfits. First off, it was the disco era, so one wasn’t limited by good taste.
Secondly, they had that strange incestuous couples thing going on, which
provided endless combinations of outfits. The guys would match one day, the
blonds would match the next, and then they would all dress the same the
following. Their costume designer must have been in heaven with all those
rhinestones and sequins. Maybe he had a be-dazzler. If you want to see exactly
the extent of the jumpsuit madness, do a Google image search and prepare to be
astounded by what you can do with polyester.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigY5JeL0pW-qQ4n7MKibBwGnfrtz_ndnxVs2WofvEL8bhEyC51BmXp6_7tqzFLez-alUy1lLZf7BfcZ-XA_QxizfOSDmeskOQJysgGaM3vr-7f-ThprLIAMNOFW0uU2C2u3RoPtlH06Xs/s1600/abba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigY5JeL0pW-qQ4n7MKibBwGnfrtz_ndnxVs2WofvEL8bhEyC51BmXp6_7tqzFLez-alUy1lLZf7BfcZ-XA_QxizfOSDmeskOQJysgGaM3vr-7f-ThprLIAMNOFW0uU2C2u3RoPtlH06Xs/s1600/abba.jpg" height="273" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">9. George
Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Where to
begin? This band is one great big potpourri of space trippin’ eccentrics. Their
fearless leader, George Clinton himself, stirring the funk soul stew. They rode
on the Mothership in some seriously unfiltered outfits. Unlike some of the other
large ensemble bands of the day, P-Funk had no rhyme or reason to the clothes,
with everyone making a personal statement. They seemed to have toned things
down in the later years, but any of the old photos from the 70’s show some
truly inspired wardrobe choices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vgqZFkEd1zb-D_cTtmQplvwCErGxkMOYN05ogCImvKg1vyAo275A9xiOADuBt7uezEcBE1p8F8ayJSpfeF7fKMSvK6sXCUHzQt2MWg26_hngkdzrLedA-4wB0L3rAQD348RwOTyjI0E/s1600/parliament-funkadelic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vgqZFkEd1zb-D_cTtmQplvwCErGxkMOYN05ogCImvKg1vyAo275A9xiOADuBt7uezEcBE1p8F8ayJSpfeF7fKMSvK6sXCUHzQt2MWg26_hngkdzrLedA-4wB0L3rAQD348RwOTyjI0E/s1600/parliament-funkadelic.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">10. Earth, Wind
and Fire<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">These cats
were all about unity. Whether they were wearing dashikis, gold lame or those
crazy robes, they did it with style. Even the afros were coifed to the same
length. There was a lot of Motown sensibility to their dress code that they
carried through their career. These guys could bring it and they had the dance
steps to match.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pks7KEQ4LWYlzoNxwfesZk8yHBtpYzsRSo6VCIlm5CrIuPln1DDagupHdto4DZxKqy54D7vsuckcRurXfoDFa6iHL__cQtqExcjz8GpEgNnEAxcHaceVSOUpqCryLYo5dAVRb-uKBDk/s1600/EarthWindFire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pks7KEQ4LWYlzoNxwfesZk8yHBtpYzsRSo6VCIlm5CrIuPln1DDagupHdto4DZxKqy54D7vsuckcRurXfoDFa6iHL__cQtqExcjz8GpEgNnEAxcHaceVSOUpqCryLYo5dAVRb-uKBDk/s1600/EarthWindFire.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Your
homework…one of my favorites. Shining Star by Earth, Wind and Fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/rl-WSmryfSY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-4554169493465940642014-02-22T14:40:00.000-08:002014-02-22T14:40:27.432-08:0026 miles <div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Lyrics to a song I wrote and hope to record....</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Thirty years ago, I saw it on TV</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When he dipped his foot, right into the sea</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He was just a boy, acting like a man</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Escorted out of town, by a yellow van<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ll tell you what it means, to be all alone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A lonely West Coast boy, three thousand miles from home<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">30 days of rain, all along the way<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">26 miles he ran, each and every day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Chorus<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What I didn’t know</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What no one dared to say</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He might not make it</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Might not make it to Thunder Bay<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sometime in July, on highway sixty nine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Headed up to Timmins, when we passed him by<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Collecting money, from beside the van<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I reached out the window, threw a dollar in the can<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Chorus<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I still see him now, always on the run<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A forever memory, forever twenty one<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Heroes don’t come easy, it takes a lot of might<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">They sometimes win the battle, and sometimes lose the fight</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What I didn’t know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What no one dared to say<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He never made it<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Never made it past halfway<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">(But the)The whole world knows your name today<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-76674400057972867822014-02-20T09:19:00.000-08:002016-04-17T08:38:40.304-07:00The Greatest Party Never Told<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Most children’s
birthday parties follow a generic formula that has been carefully crafted and
refined over the last forty years. A fail safe method if you will, unfortunately
designed not for the tot in mind, but solely to keep parents from losing their
minds. Kids arrive at 1pm, followed by a
contained activity, right into pizza, presents, cake and then home at 4pm. The
hours of start and finish are negotiable, as long as you stick to the 3 hour
window and don’t try to do anything too radical such as sending them outside
with lawn darts. A formula followed through the ages and all across the land. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Unless,
that is, you came up in the 70’s and were part of a small cadre of boys
lucky enough to be invited to a party hosted by my friend Dale. You see, Dale
lived in the country on a tree farm absolutely riddled with death traps at
every turn. He would occasionally show up at school with a cast or a twisted
ankle. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“Fell off
the roof of the chicken coop” he would say, shrugging it off. Standard fare
really, for a farm kid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
A perfect venue, for a collection of 11 year old boys. It’s not a
surprise that I don’t recall any birthday cakes or gifts from these affairs.
What stands out is being dropped off on a Saturday, late in April, and charging
around looking for the group who would already be immersed in a death defying
activity. It could be climbing the interior ladder of the silo and launching
one’s self into the grain pile below, or playing hide and seek amidst the
tightly packed evergreens stored in the dark recesses below the barn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The tree
farm was a strange and glorious conglomeration of out-buildings, barns and
machinery, just waiting to be explored. The farm itself was mostly staffed with
Jamaicans who lived in the basement of the rambling farmhouse where Dale’s
family lived. Regulars with names like Moses and Dudley, who would return year
after year to trim trees and then take blue jeans and shoes back to Jamaica
with them. Dale told me they were always shooting pigeons in the silo and making
stew with their catch. He snuck me down to the barracks once when they were out
working, which consisted of one main room full of cots and a couple of fold out
tables, a bathroom and a tiny kitchen. I bumped my head on a pair of hawk’s
feet hanging from the door jamb leading outside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“They eat
hawks?” I asked, morbidly curious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“Nope.”
Dale replied. ”They’re for voodoo. I
think Dudley is going to put a hex on someone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“What’s
that smell?” asked my 10 year old self.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">“It’s
drugs. You know…Marijuana,” Dale replied nonchalantly. “They’re not supposed to
smoke it down here, but they do anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Well, that
explained where Dale got his supplies later on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
Outdoors there were endless curiosities to be found. There was a drive shed
that always had a topless calendar posted on the wall and a lunch room with a
broken vending machine where a kid could jam a skinny arm up into the works and
grab a free chocolate bar. One building had a slaughter pit in it, leftover
from when a beef farm operated on the property. The game was to get dropped
down in and see if you could scale your way back up the concrete walls and get
out. Dale and I later painted lines on the floor and turned it into a handball
court for a period of time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The most
notable feature though, the piece de resistance, if you will, was the main barn
itself. This was where most of the fun-slash-dangerous activities took place
and quite frankly, it’s a miracle that no one gave themselves a spinal injury.
You see, there is a thing which all farm kids know about called a hay mow. This
is basically a giant pile of loose hay, which was how it was stored before they
started making it into bales. It functions like the foam pit that acrobats
train with, only it’s a bit harder, a bit scratchier and a whole lot dustier. There was a rope swing that you could use to
toss yourself into the mow with, or for the more daring, there was the barn
beam challenge. This involved climbing up a hundred year old wooden ladder,
inching out onto a 10 inch beam and getting up the courage to jump. For those
more daring, you could climb up to the highest beam, one which nearly touched
the roof and from which a fall in the wrong direction would certainly bring
serious damage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Then there
was the barn roof itself, which I’m pretty sure was off limits, but we climbed
it anyway. You could get on the roof on the low side and then, depending on how
slippery your shoes were, you could work your way up to the peak and look over
the high side, which provided a serious thrill because of the massive drop. If
you were slipping, you had to use the steel rivets as purchase, which is not
much between you and sliding back down. If you could get up and follow the
ridge over to the south peak, there was a valley where all the snow slid off
and created a giant pile below. Because it was April, there was usually enough
left to and jump into if you had the right technique. The trick was to slide
while staying on your feet and not let your pant leg get caught on a rivet on
the way down or you were in big trouble. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One year,
there was a giant inner tube that someone had pulled out of a tractor tire.
There was also a quarter mile long driveway, with a pretty decent slope to it.
You see where I’m going with this? I abhorred any kind of spinning activity as
a kid, so I only did it like, 3 times. If you made it the whole way, someone
would have to stand at the road to stop you from crossing the concession and
possibly getting run over by a truck. If you didn’t make it, it was preferable
to careen off sideways and crash in the apple orchard as opposed to taking a
spill on the gravel driveway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don’t
exactly remember when those epic birthday parties stopped. Probably around
grade 8, when we got too cool for them and wanted to go to parties with girls. Since then, I’ve been to tons of parties with
girls and the funny thing is, I never really did anything at them as cool as
swan diving into a hayloft from 10 meters up.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-78032009643811381352014-02-05T08:40:00.001-08:002014-02-05T09:24:44.371-08:00How to half-ass everything<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wrote a book once. An honest-to- God novel with 175 000 words, complete with all the necessary literary elements such as a plot and all those other fiddly bits that make up every other novel. It was read by exactly 3 people, and while the contents may have been mostly rubbish, I was proud that I stuck with it and finished the damn thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How did I do it you ask? A combination of ignorance, narcissism and good old fashioned work. Being blissfully unaware of ones supposed limitations is a big help. Basically I walk around like Mr. Bean, bumbling through things in my own bull headed way. Books are not supposed to be written by guys like me. They are supposed to be written by struggling yet brilliant journalism majors or quirky housewives who sit around all day dreaming up tales of vampire love. On the other hand, if one wakes up thinking, “Hmmm…I think I’ll write a book”, then by all means hop to it young man. The same goes for dry-walling your basement, digging a pond in your backyard or running a ten mile obstacle course at the advanced age of 43. Be like Nike and just do it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m taking the saying “jack of all trades, master of none” to new levels. I've done a lot of things in my day, some of them very badly, while others achieved a solid level of mediocrity. Giving yourself a chance is the key. Most times I go into these things blind, like the time I reformatted my hard drive using very cryptic, hand written instructions from a guy that couldn't really speak English. It didn't end well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My list of accomplishments reads more like a list of attempts, and that, I think, is a good thing. For example, I play half- assed rhythm guitar in a band. Sometimes I forget the chord progression in the Neil Young song I’m playing and I’ll never learn the solo from Sweet Child of Mine but damn do I have fun on jam night! I’ve written and recorded about 10 songs of which a few might even be fit for public consumption. Are they great songs? No. Am I richer for the experience? Hell yeah, it was amazing. I got to wear the fancy headphones and sing into the microphone with the nylon thingy in front of it that stops your spit from making popping noises. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How about the time, at age 38, I joined a competitive soccer team after a 25 year hiatus from the game?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I can run”, I thought. “I've still got my moves from grade six”. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps I underestimated the level of play in the league. Most teams were peppered with Europeans who grew breathing soccer the way Canadians do with hockey. Guys with names like Salvatore and Pavel who had footwork moves that could turn you inside out. Fortunately for me, it turns out if you have no skill in men’s over 35 soccer, you can survive on superior cardio and heart. Think Forrest Gump. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other questionable yet intrepid things I have done include such undertakings such as re-canvasing a canoe, building a website, starting a blog and wearing skinny jeans. When I learned it was possible to make your own charcoal in a 55 gallon drum, that became my summer project last year. I had one small explosion when gas fumes got into the barrel before I lit the fire, but other than that, it was a smashing success. Once I get going on these things, I have a bit of compulsiveness that takes over – until the next flight of fancy takes my imagination that is. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is something very satisfying in trying the unknown whether you achieve success or not. I want to be the guy who brews his own beer and can do a brake job on his car. I am desperate to weld something. Oh…and I’m going to build a wood fired sauna.
Don’t fall into the trap of winning and success and all that crap. Wade into the task with a positive attitude and blatant disregard for what you think you can or cannot do. You might make a mess of things and ruin a completely good hard drive, but at the very least you’ll end up with a really good story.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Making charcoal in a barrel....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-76957354918022166042014-01-09T07:43:00.000-08:002014-01-09T15:27:54.779-08:00It's Alright Ma...I'm Only BleedingThe first time I gave blood was about 8 or 9 years ago, and if truth be told, I did it for all the wrong reasons. Actually there was only one reason, but it was still on the business end of wrong. Due to some dietary concerns, I wanted to find out my blood type. Yes, there may be easier ways to find out one’s blood type, such as making a doctor’s appointment, or calling one’s mother, but who has the stomach for all that?<br />
<br />
Mrs. Rock and Roll Librarian suggested that I simply go and give blood and that way I could check off my good deed for the year and find out my blood type all in one fell phlebotomy. She’s a nurse, so I figured it was all on the up and up, so when the next blood donor clinic came to town, I was there.<br />
<br />
Righto, I think. I’ll just whip in, get jabbed or stabbed or whatever they do, grab my test results, and I’m outta there. I entered the clinic, spotted the blood donating area and bee lined for it, but was promptly ambushed by nurse Ratchet. As it turns out there is a bit of a procedure and I was redirected to the staging (aka loser) area with all the other newbs to fill out the first timers paperwork. Seasoned veterans were waltzing by me with their donor cards out, flashing the nurses at the front table as though they have back stage passes to a concert. Smug bunch of do-gooders, obviously with nothing better to do than hang around the banquet room of the Days Inn, waiting to cash in on the free cookies.
Once I got through the initial barrage of paperwork, I was shuffled into the actual line. It’s not really a line so much as a series of stations where they make you hold different pieces of paper at each one, and ask you weird questions.<br />
“Have you ever been bitten by a monkey? Have you ever yourself bitten a monkey? Have you ever been incarcerated in a Mexican prison and had to sell your body to buy back your freedom?”<br />
No, no, and thank God no.<br />
<br />
Eventually you get to sit at the edge of the action, awaiting the call to bleed. This is where I learned that if you get up too fast, you can faint. I watched as one woman got to her feet, took two steps and then started to wobble like a drunken sailor. One of the nurses was at her side in a flash and they walked her over to a stretcher to collect her bearings.<br />
<br />
“Is she going to be all right?” I whispered to the old guy next to me.<br />
<br />
“Oh…she’ll be fine. Just needs to get some sugar in her.”<br />
What he said next was cause for concern.<br />
<br />
“Happens to a lot of first timers if they’re dehydrated.”<br />
<br />
Just then, the nurse called his name and he stood up. I grabbed him by his cardigan and held on.<br />
<br />
“Wait! I’m a first timer. I’m dehydrated! Am I going to faint?”<br />
<br />
Cardigan guy looked at me with no small amount of pity.<br />
<br />
“You’ll be fine son. If you’re squeamish, just don’t look at the needle. It’s kind of…well it’s bigger than a regular needle let’s just say. Now let go of my cardigan.”<br />
<br />
I let him go as the true gravity of the situation sunk in. They were going to take God knows how much of my precious blood – ciphon it out of my body and store it in a glorified zip-loc bag that was hanging in clear view, right beside my head. No freakin’ way, I think, preparing to bolt.
Unfortunately at that moment, one of my students sat down beside me.<br />
<br />
“Hi Mr. McEwen! I didn’t know you gave blood.”<br />
<br />
Great. This was going to complicate my exit strategy. I may have to fake a heart attack.<br />
<br />
“Hi Lucy. Hey…don’t you have to be 18 to be here?”<br />
<br />
“Nope. 17. My birthday was last week. I always said to myself, as soon as I turned 17, I would donate and here I am.”<br />
<br />
“Trying to find out your blood type are you?” I asked with a knowing wink.<br />
<br />
“What? No, I was in Sick Kids Hospital for three months when I was seven, and I received a lot of blood. I’m just giving back. My goal is to get my gold milestone pin. That’s when you donate 100 times."<br />
<br />
Well this was not going well. This girl was hampering my escape with her lousy selfless behavior.<br />
<br />
“Wow, 100 times? Do you get paid after like the 5th time or something?”<br />
<br />
“Good one Mr. McEwen. So…I’m kind of nervous. Does it hurt?”<br />
<br />
“Not really.” I lied. Obviously it’s going to hurt like a bastard.<br />
<br />
“Just don’t look at the needle.” I added.<br />
As if on cue, the nurse called my name and it was time to face the music. They positioned me in the reclining chair and to be honest, the next bit of business was considerably less traumatic than I had imagined. I guess I got all worked up for nothing as I made it through without fainting, and apparently l have really good veins for this type of thing, because the needle went in easy and I was done in no time. Relief city.<br />
<br />
I didn’t go back to the clinic for about 2 years after that, but the volunteers who hunt down donors are persistent, and fortunately, they didn't give up on me. These days I get a call every few months asking me to schedule an appointment and get there whenever I can. The whole thing takes about an hour.
If you’re looking for a way to help out, I highly recommend donating blood.
Really, it doesn’t hurt much and it’s an easy way to give something of yourself... literally.<br />
By the way….I’m an A positive.
<br />
<br />
Your homework....Give Blood - Pete Townshend with David Gilmour on guitar.<br />
This is worth it for the backup singers alone....<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LeXf90OGTHE">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LeXf90OGTHE</a>Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1354262968864278323.post-12833012962973956202013-12-03T11:17:00.001-08:002014-02-18T17:04:56.614-08:00Top 10 reasons you need to listen to more music.<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">1. Distraction<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Recently I
was explaining to the Mrs. that for the first ten minutes of every day, between
the time I crawl out of bed to when I get out of the shower, I feel the weight
of the world crushing me into a finely ground paste. My brain starts spinning
with all the things I have to do that day and all the things I forgot to do the
day before. I’m pretty sure I spend the night storing up a zillion thoughts while
I sleep, only to have them unleashed in a torrent of negativity, as though they
are coming out of the shower head. It is, to be accurate, a shower of doom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"> At this point she says, “Why don’t you get one
of those shower radios? You can listen to music to take your mind off things." To which I replied, “That is your greatest idea since the time you let
me use the chainsaw in the house to dismantle the old piano.” Point
being, music can be a meditative force that can provide focus and take you mind
to a calm place. It doesn’t matter if you’re singing along to <i>Walk Like an Egyptian</i> or <i>War Pigs</i>, as long as it puts you in the
moment. Go ahead…sing along and be happy. Just like witches at black masses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">2. Spontaneous dance party<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Any time or
any place music is playing, the phenomenon known as the spontaneous dance party
can erupt. Like an un-choreographed Flash mob, people just drop what they are
doing and get down. It happens on back porches in the summer, in bars after
midnight, and at all points in between. At my house it usually happens in the
kitchen, during meal preparation. Cooking to music is a good thing. Cooking
while throwing down some sweet dance moves is a great thing. Occasionally, Mrs. Rock and Roll Librarian and
Junior will join in and we get our dance on.
Recommended pairing: Bob Marley while making jerk chicken offers a great
chance to shake it down while adding a touch of island authenticity to your
dish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">3. Emotion <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Having music
affect you emotionally is a pretty powerful thing. A certain song may bring
tears, or joy, or better yet, tears of joy. It might be the Hallelujah chorus
in Handel’s Messiah that makes you shiver or a cheesy love song that makes your
heart ache but either way, how cool is it that some sounds put together with
some words can have the power to reduce you to a puddle? There is a live
version of Eric Clapton’s <i>Running on
Faith</i> where, amidst the climax of the song, the back-up girls are just
killing it, and he is doing a call and answer kind of thing with them and kind
of soloing at the same time, and every time I hear it, it makes me smile. How
could you not take advantage of some free mood altering stuff that won’t leave
you with a hangover?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">4. Connect with the Kids<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Show some
interest in what the kids are listening to these days and you can really make a
connection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">“So son…how
about that new Bruno Mars featuring Rhianna and Jay Z?” I ask casually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">“Dad…I don’t
even know what you are saying to me right now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">“You know….I
Should Have Bought You Flowers.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Then I sing
in my best falsetto “I shoulda brought you flowers, I shoulda held your hand.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">“Dad....first of all,
that doesn’t feature anyone, and it’s called <i>When I was your Man</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Well…I like
that one. It’s not as crap as the rest of the stuff you listen to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">“I like that
one too dad.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">5. Air Guitar/Drumming practice<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Everyone has
an inner air guitarist waiting to be released. Like anything though, you need
to practice or else your technique won’t get any better. (You never know, you
might want to enter the air guitar world championships that are held every year
– this year in Oolu, Finland) While not as popular a pursuit, air drumming
should also be considered a legitimate form of music appreciation. If you are
up for it, try out Jet’s <i>Are you Gonna Be
My Girl</i> for a fun air guitar thrash. Recommended air drumming is the intro
for Van Halen’s <i>Hot for Teacher</i>, or
anything by Rush of course.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">6. Singing <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">You can’t
sing dude. Seriously. However, the beauty of singing along to the pros is that the
loudness of the radio will cover the suckiness of your voice. If you’re
anything like me, when you’re rocking down the highway, volume cranked and
belting out Black Hole Sun along with Chris Cornell, you sound great. Listen to
music, sing along and before you know it, you’ll be hitting the Karaoke bars
and wowing them with your vocal stylings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">7.
Motivation<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">If the only
sounds you hear during your workout are the clanging of weights and the
strained grunting of overdeveloped thugs, I’ve got some bad news for you. You’re
in prison. Here on the outside we’re allowed to listen to music any time we
like, so why not during your workout? Make yourself a playlist of your
favourite up-beat tunes and you’ll burn through the workout with the greatest
of ease. It’s a fact. (For real…I read it in Men’s Health magazine.)
If you are a runner and you have to go solo, an iPod makes things much more
enjoyable. Just don’t make it so loud you can’t hear the traffic. Safety first
kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">8. Sleep<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Can’t sleep?
Radiohead - <i>The Bends</i> or Pink Floyd -
<i>Wish You Were Here<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">9. Broaden your horizons<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">They say
that most people are prone to listen to the same music they listened to in high
school, even after 20 or 30 years, because it harkens back to a time in your
life when your main occupation was having fun. This can be a dangerous proposition
if you came up in the disco era, or perhaps went through a bad Marky Mark
phase. I’m as guilty as the next guy when it comes to reverting back to the old
ways, but I still think it’s important to rotate the playlist and keep an eye
out for the next Bob Dylan. If you are stumped, my new school favourites are Amos
Lee, The Civil Wars, and The Decemberists. Keep searching the old stuff too
though. I’ve rediscovered the obscure workings of Steve Earle, Bob Mould of
Husker Du fame and Led Zeppelin’s <i>In
Through the Out Door</i>, which for some reason I used to think was crap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 150%;">10. Set the Mood<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">You need to
know your music if you’re going to take control of the iPod. Megadeth at a
dinner party is not really cool, unless it’s a barbarian’s feast. Same goes for
the dance party you’re hosting or the backyard BBQ. It’s helpful to have a
great collection to draw on and even better if you can match the right tunes
with the crowd. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;">Your
homework if you should choose to accept it….I just discovered Grace Potter and
I dig this song.<span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aXiYeXurdc">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aXiYeXurdc</a></span></div>
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Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10675566407869055627noreply@blogger.com0