I scream

I went to the ice cream truck for a treat this afternoon.  The guy who own it was wearing a t-shirt that said “Best Dad, Hands Down”.  It had his kids handprints in paint on the front.

The woman being served said that her kid thinks his dad is the best dad. To which the ice-cream guy replied, with a smile “my kid’s dad has an ice cream truck”. 

CNN is so Gay

I went to the bank this morning, a relatively new BMO near College Park.  It has a flat screen tv playing CNN for the enjoyment of those waiting in line.  The topic this morning:  Senator Craig and his denials of personal gayness.

Ok – so this senator from Idaho got arrested in a washroom in Minneapolis for making lewd advances toward a guy in the stall next to him (the guy was a police officer).  Apparently, the senator plead guilty to a lesser offence in order to just make it all go away.  Only it didn’t go away.

Which led to John Roberts  (I still have trouble getting used to John Roberts: news anchor instead of JD Roberts: VJ for Much Music) asking the guy he was interviewing whether he thought Craig was being a hypocrite because Craig did not support gay rights. 

No wonder so many people seem to have no idea that “gay rights” represents extending to gay people that same rights as everyone else.   Instead, there’s this huge undertone that “gay rights” means the right to have sex in a public bathroom.

For the record, I wasn’t paying that much attention to the newscast.  I also had no background knowledge of the overall incident and had to look it up.

Weeds

S and I rented the first two seasons of Weeds on DVD.  Very addictive.  From the moment the Little Houses song starts (from 1962 and still rings true today), right through the incredibly messy choices people are making.  And Mary Louise Parker – watching the subtle changes of expression in her face.  She does a great job.  It’s just a great show, even down to the soundtrack.  Let’s see if it falls off the rails in Season 3. 

One problem though, Weeds is on Showcase and I’m a basic cable subscriber.  More specifically, basic analog cable.  As basic as can be.  Even basic-er if you take my crappy reception into consideration (I have to run my cable through my vcr on some stations before it’s watchable).  It costs $31.34/month inc tax.  Considering I could get many of those channels with a good antenna, the $31 seems steep.  But then I’m also a cheap bastard.  Not cheap enough to actually get a good antenna, though.  I guess that makes me a cheap, lazy bastard.

A while ago, Romy subscribed to Rogers MyTV package (it was half of the Ultimate Pak – I can’t remember what the other half was called).  She gets Showcase with it - but she pays $51/month plus tax.   Because I only want Showcase, that would be $22/month extra for one channel.  Madness. 

According to the Rogers website (an incredibly non-informative website, making me think that doing less business with Rogers is a wise choice), for an additional $8/month, Romy could have the same thing, and more, in digital.  Of course, I can’t tell how much more because when you click to see what channels are included, it just shows the complete list of each and every channel offered – including movie channels and HD.  It’s impossible to tell which channels are actually included with the VIP package, but I’m going to guess it’s the Ultimate Pak. 

The problem is, there are only so many television watching hours in a day.  And only so many prime-time hours.  A couple of seasons ago, there was one hour one evening that carried 3 shows I wanted to watch.  So I had 2 vcrs going while watching the third show as it was broadcast.   I began to wonder “should I get digital, so I can time shift?”.  If I had the VIP package, I’d soon want a PVR so I could tape the shows I didn’t have time to watch.  I’d end up paying $100/month so I could be a slave to watching taped shows all weekend long.

Nah.  I think I’ll stay a basic gal a little longer.  I’ll rent Season 3 of Weeds when it comes out on DVD (and presumably re-rent Season 2 to refresh my memory).  That would cost me $10 in total.    The right choice?  I think so.

Update: My sister introduced me to tv-links.co.uk.  It has links to all sorts of tv shows – just click and you’re watching.  Is it legal?  I have no idea, but I better start watching fast, incase it gets shut down.  The picture quality when watching on the 4 (5?) yr old Dell laptop wasn’t fantastic, but was entirely watchable.  Thanks sis!

Second City

I’ve been watching The Second City’s Next Comedy Legend on CBC lately.  It’s a reality show, and not a particularly good one.  I don’t even like reality shows.  I missed the first few episodes of the show because I was out actually enjoying the summer.  But it gets darker now, and cooler.

I’ve always liked the Second City.  I remember seeing the troupe regularly at the Old Firehall on Lombard back in the 80’s, with a couple of my Ryerson chums.  And I liked SCTV – truly excellent Canadian programming.

 This new show has a blond bimbo of a host, a group of Second City mentors (some of which I recognize), and a panel of judges (including Dave Thomas and Elvira Kurt).

 I was surprised that a few episodes ago the remaining 5 contestants were 3 women and 2 men.  I don’t know why this surprised me.  Am I sexist, or do I just assume the rest of the world is?

 Now they’re down to 2 women and one man.  What keeps me coming back is Megan McDowell – the dykey looking contestant.  I think she’s the most interesting to watch, and not just because of the dykeness.     I guess I’ll keep watching. I hope she wins.

Update: Aug 28, 2007

Megan did in fact win the contest (woo hoo!).  But what was with those pants she was wearing during the final episode? Actually, if you can be funny in those pants, you can be funny anytime.

Things I didn’t get done

It’s a cool day today, around 17 degrees at the moment.  Yesterday was similar.  It feels like summer is over and fall has arrived, and I realize that I didn’t get as much accomplished this summer as I wanted. For example,

I have not yet made any potato salad this summer.

I have not replaced the vent hood on the downdraft vent (and should do the dryer vent one at the same time).

I have not attempted to lower the sweep on the doors to keep winter drafts out.

I have not gone to the Island.

I think the Island and the potato salad are not going to make my to-do list for the remainder of the summer, but I really should try to do what I can to keep the drafts out this winter. 

The downdraft vent on the stove lets in a helluva lot of cold air into the house – both wafting under the oven and blowing up the vent on the stovetop.  The first winter, I stuffed pink insulation under there.  No improvement.  The second winter I sprayed a can of foaming insulation into whatever gaps I could reach (me flat on my belly with my arms thrust under the oven, trying to jam my head under there in such a way that wasn’t at an angle that would have me looking over my glasses.  There was no way I’d try to disconnect the gas  in order to pull the range away from the wall.  Noooo way!).  Some improvement, but still cold.  So the next step is to take the vent hood off, blow more foam insulation into any gaps I can see from the outside of the house, and replace the hood with one that doesn’t have a broken flap.

I’m not sure if the door sweeps are adjustable on my doors.  There are no visible screws and I had no luck removing what might be a decorative cover panel  to see if there were any screws underneath.  Trying to take that puppy off in january was just too hideously cold.  So – now’s the time to give it another try.  I just hope I don’t have to actually take the door off to do it.

So all I need is a weekend with no plans and stay-at-home weather.

Fine country dining

This weekend, to celebrate S’s mother’s 60th birthday, we planned to go to  The Branch (formerly Amanda’s Slip) in Kville.  A couple of days before hand, though,  S’s brother had us switch it to the Red Dot Cafe . 

I haven’t eaten at the Branch, but I liked Amanda’s Slip.  I think the Branch continues to offer a casual but upscale menu.  The Red Dot I knew very little about, but got the impression that it’s a more rustic venue.  So I wasn’t expecting much.

Amazingly, I was disappointed – even with my low expectations.  Warm, spicy, Catalina salad dressing does NOT make a good dip for sweet potato fries.  Steak should NOT have a thick, salty canned gravy smeared onto it.  And whatever that white stuff was should NOT be called “buttermilk mashed potatoes”, or potato of any kind.  And what do you have to do to make in-season peaches and cream corn on the cob that starchy?

Amazingly, the place was pretty much packed.   So it must really work for the rural folk in our Nation’s Capital Region.

As it turned out, S’s brother paid for everyone’s meal.  Very nice and uncharacteristically generous of him. 

Through a Glass, Darkly

Now and again, I get in one of those “what ever happened to…” frames of mind and I’ll scan the internet for names of people I went to school with.  Any connections I had with those people have long since been lost, so it’s not like I can just call or email someone to find out what’s been going on in these people’s lives.

Of course, as nifty as the internet is, most people don’t leave much of a trail.  You can do a basic google search, which can be very hit-or-miss.  Li’l Sis let me use her Facebook account so I didn’t have to register one of my own to look around.  Then there’s Classmates.  I found some trace of a few people I knew, but not many. 

The men are easier, I either find some mention of them, or I don’t.  But with women, not finding a trail might mean they’re using a different name.  Even when I know their married name, they may no longer be married to that person.

It’s such an odd concept, really.  To trade in one’s name, one’s history, and just disappear.

Patio Season is Officially Over

I don’t know if this is mostly a Toronto thing, but we love to go to a restaurant with a patio.   Local papers publish patio guides. Resin tables or white linen tablecloth -  we’ve got it all.  Sometimes it’s just 2 or 3 tables on the sidwalk.  Whatever.  We’ve got to have them.  We MUST eat outside!

Who cares if our meals get cold before we finish them?  Who cares if there’s no such thing as a non-smoking area on the patio?  Who cares if the service is sometimes slow or the tables are wonky. Not we hardy Torontonians.

And I’m right in there.  I love sitting out on a patio in the summer. At least until late summer when the wasps come out.  I think some people call them ”yellow jackets“.   You see them by the dozen in late summer hanging out by garbage cans or hot dog vendors’ condiments.  I’ve seen them all over the honey container inside Balzac’s at the Distillery District in the late summer.  I’ve seen them swarming over cookies and cakes left out on a picnic table.

And ya, they hang out at patios, flying in the general direction of my face.  The idea of getting a wasp actually in my mouth is utterly horrific to me.   Drinking a can of pop outside makes me hyperaware that one of those little fuckers could have crawled inside it. 

So I do all my eating indoors from August to May.  

Patio Season is Over.

The Bath

Ok – I’m not one of those poetry writing lesbians.  Honestly.

Except here’s a link to some stuff that I wrote.   Some might call it poetry.  I call it stuff. 

I’m a stuff writing lesbian.  Or was – I don’t write anymore.  Now, I blog. 

The reason my stuff is on a webpage is because someone I knew wanted to read my writing, and I was curious about creating a webpage.  Curiosity on everyones part was sated by my making the webpage (very amateur and rustic, with now outdated links etc).

I would never have shared my writing, though, if it weren’t for Leslea Newman’s poem “The Bath”.  I ran into  it here while surfing.  On one hand, I loved the poem.  On the other hand, I found it flawed.  The image of the lover’s tongue landing at her feet was jarring (I think the robe was meant to be landing at her feet.  Instead, I saw a huge tongue going “thwap” like a cartoon).  And the final stanza seemed to have too many syllables.  “How could she put that out there?”, I wondered.  But I loved how sensual it was, how sexual.  I read it and re-read it, enjoying te imagery (except for the tongue on the floor)  and was glad to have found it.

Until then, I thought that because my stuff was flawed, I wasn’t a good enough writer.  That my writing would have to be perfect, to my eyes anyway, before I could share it with anyone.  But the poem gave me new perspective.   Here it is:

The Bath

When she lifts her hair
into a bun
it is like peeling a peach
exposing the sweet moist meat
to the night’s teeth

When she slips her robe
from her shoulders
it slides down her back
smooth as a lover’s tongue
landing at her feet

When she reaches into the tub
the waters part like lips
to embrace her hand which she
lifts listening to the drops
falling from her wrist

 

Get the lead out

Mattel is recalling more Chinese-made toys today.  Apparently, some have magnets that can be swallowed and some have lead in the paint.  This is in addition to the recall earlier this week of Chinese-made toothpaste containing antifreeze, and earlier this year there were recalls of Chinese-made pet foods containing melamine. (and these are just what come to mind in the moment).

So has China begun adding lead, antifreeze and melamine to its products just for sport? Or have they always been doing this, but it’s more noticeable now that more manufacturers are moving to or outsourcing to China?  Or is it just a “blame China” movement, where the same recall, if a few years ago, would have failed to mention China because it wasn’t relevant to the issue at hand?

If I shop at the Dollarama (rarely) I no longer buy anything I could eat off of, or anything electronic.  I avoid Walmart (horrible ethics), and overly cheap stuff in general.  Most cheap stuff is made in China.  But there are plenty of expensive items (like Mattel toys, or Canon digital cameras, or Reebok shoes… ) that are also made in China.  One would assume the well-known corporate name and the higher price point would translate to higher standards, regardless of the country of manufacture.  I guess not.   

 I don’t buy the snow peas at Loblaws because they’re shipped from China — and not just because we’re all suspicious of China.  I find it perverse to buy a food from the other side of the world that could be grown here.  I avoid buying Chilean apples, too, for the same reason.

Still, there are so many ingredients in packaged foods that who knows where the starch in the Betty Crocker cake mix came from?  Does Betty even know on any given day?  I don’t think so.