Slicing through life like a samurai sword

So the Fringe is on.

One of the great joys of living in Winnipeg (there are a few) is the annual Fringer Festival. Hundreds of performers descend upon the city for 10 days of plays. Rachel usually takes that time as her vacation and watches plays all day for ten days. I've never been so lucky. Being a grad student and sessional instructor means you have to work when you can. I try to take in as many plays as I can, but this year, with the pressures of studying for comps, I've only seen one. But what a one.

I always catch TJ Dawe's shows at the Fringe. He's both funny and witty (not the same thing); he's more an essayist or stoy teller than a playwright. Anyway, I'm very glad I went. It was about the time Dawe worked as a bartender in England. Having been in England recently, I could relate to a lot about what he said about the differences in words and meaning. There's something SO, SO wrong with asking people where the toilet is. You say washroom, and they stare at you like you have two heads. Freaky Brits.

So I'm cat sitting... not sitting on cats, mind you, but there was that rather close call last night. Our across the street neighbours are on vacation and asked if we could watch their two cats. Not being a cat person, having never even owned a pet larger then a small rat, I, of course, said: "sure glad to." Actually they're really good cats, not aloof and uninterested like so many I have encountered over the years. They follow me around the house, sit with me while I watch tv or read... maybe they're just making sure I don't steal anything. Who knows. But, I guess as long as I remember to feed them twice a day, everything will be good.

So I rented a bunch of movies this weekend. There's Million Dollar Baby, The Avaitor and The Sea Inside. They're all critically accliamed, they're all films I want to see, but for some reason I just can't make myself watch them. The running times don't help: MDB is 138 minutes and Avaitor is a typical Scorcese 3 hour epic. Apparently somewhere over the past few years I've developed ADD or something. 80-85 minute movies are more my cup of tea. Unfortunately that pretty much only leaves Woody Allen films to watch... and I refuse to watch The Curse of the Jade Scorpion on general principle. I suppose mindless flicking through the television might be in order then

Listening to: the gentle breeze outside.

It's been almost two weeks since I returned from Newfoundland and I realized that I have told you all my final flight story: the dread tale of the Toronto to Winnipeg leg of our trip. So, sit back, kiddies. Get a nice big mug of hot chocolate, wrap yourself in your favourite blanket and enjoy...

Right, so the flight starts off smoothly enough. No screaming kids, the planes not too full. Rachel and I had another person in our row, but right before take off a stewartess told the woman that there were empty rows at the front of the plane and that she could move once the seat belt sign went off. Great, I thought. Only, once the seat belt sign went off, she didn't move. She put her headphones on and started watching television! Huh? What's up with that? Row to yourself with lots of room to stretch out or crammed in with a couple of strangers?

Eventually, after being told again she could move by the stewartess, she moved. But now the fun was beginning. The flight was a little choppy. The captain had warned us that there would be turbulence along the way, but for the first hour and a bit there was nothing too bad. Once we were kind of close to Winnipeg though, things were much worse. You see, boys and girls, Winnipeg was in the middle of a huge thunderstorm. We circled the city a few times, with our cloud-eye view of the lightening. Then the captain informs us that the plane's being diverted to Kenora Ontario to wait out the storm and to re-fuel. What's in Kenroa, you ask? Big, fat nothing! I'm surprised there was a run-way big enough to accomodate our plane. So we land, they turn the televisions back on and everything's quiet for 25-30 minutes. I look out and see the fuel truck filling up the plane. Oh good, I thought, we'll soon be on our way.

"This is your captain agin, folks. We have our new flight plan from Westjet, but it seems that the fuel truck has, well, run out of fuel. It'll be just a few more minutes here in Kenora." I'm sorry, what? The fuel truck ran out of fuel? The FUEL TRUCK?! Where does a fuel truck have to go to refuel? Where ever it went, it toook about 20 more minutes. By this time it's 10:30 or so at night. I'm tired and getting grumpy and a little hungry.

We finally take off and it's about 20 minutes to Winnipeg. And those twenty minutes felt like an hour. I have NEVER felt turbulance like that. The plane didn't shake up and down, like planes do in the movies; this plane was kind of sliding, one wing moving in front of the other. Stomach in my throat, I gripped the armrest of my seat and closed my eyes.

When we finally landed, the captain camer back on the PA to inform us that we'd be taxi-ing to the gate but, because of the storm, our bags might not be unloaded. Great. People are groaning audibly now.

When we finally deplane, a long line forms in front of the sliding glass door leading into the airport. Seems the airports closed. After a Westjet employee runs back from the plane with the keys, we can finally enter the Winnipeg airport... to the sound of the baggage carousel starting up, and our bags arriving.

After waiting 20 minutes in the pouring rain for a cab we get home by 1:00am... to a flooded bedroom. Seems someone turned our airconditioner on and it leaked all over the floor.

And now a Monday Mission...

1. Do you wear glasses/contact lenses?

No, I don't. Both my parents do and I read a LOT: I figured that glasses were inevietable. Go figure.

2. Did you ever have to wear braces? How are your teeth? (any cavities, any pulled teeth, root canals, etc.)

Groan. Yes I had braces... cut the crap out of the inside of my lip. Have also had more than my fair share of dental procedures: cavities (though none in a while), pulled teeth (four, thank you very much), wisdom teeth out, a rather painful root canal and, most recently, gun grafting. I don't get it. I brush, I floss (not as regularly as I should mind you, but still), I don't eat a lot of junk food. So what's the deal-io?

3. What (if any) recent movies have moved you emotionally? Which one and how so?

To be honest, Batman Begins moved me. That might sounds weird, but I was a huge Batman fan growing up, but everytime they tried to transfer the comic hero to television or film, it sucked. I'm in a minority here, I know, but I didn't care for Burton's Batman. It was dark, sure, but it was also very convulated and silly. Nolan's film was gritty and real. Seeing something I had been waiting for for so long moved me. Not to tears or anything; I'm not a sissy-boy.

4. Would you rather live the remainder of your golden years in a rest home, or pass away before it came to that?

I don't know. The thought of being totally taken care of appeals to me, but would I really be lucid enough to enjoy it?

5. What natural creation or phenomenon just flat-out leaves you with a sense of wonder?

Thunderstorms, hurricanes, tidal waves. Anything where Nature shows her dominace over us.

6. Have you ever been in a fist fight or a situation where you had to get physically violent with someone else? How did that come about? Any consequences?

Despite my recent airport desire to punch a whole lot of people in thier big, fat heads, I have only been in one fist fight in my life. Apparently I don't do the whole thing particularly well.

So there was this gi-normous thunderstorm here in Winnipeg Saturday night: trees toppled, basements flooded, powerlines downed, young girls carried off to magic lands. I watched it for a while. It was really beautiful, the lightening streaking the sky; almost quaint. Of course the next day, seeing the damage left behind was something else. Luckily this time our car was damaged, though a large branch fell from the tree in front of our house (hitting our neighbour's van). I got to thinking about how safe we think we are, yet Nature can, at any time, step in and kick the living crap out of us.

Got to play drums last night for a friend. Got to play more "fun" songs than I'm used to. It was a blast. Admittedly, there were times I got carried away with myself and sort of lost the beat , but que sera sera; I found it quickly enough.

Listening to: John Coltrane's "My Favourite Things"

There's no place I can be, since I found serenity

It all started with Angel.

Rachel bought season 5; I was curious/bored/whatver and watched it. Intriqued by a quirky little drama about a vampire and his demon-slaying sidekicks, I agreed to start the series over, watching from season one... but, I insisted, no Buffy. Silly me.

After about a million questions about some of the Buffy-related history of the Angel characters, I, head hung down in shame, relented: I will watch Buffy. And, know what? I like it! Shhhh, don't tell anyone.

This week we took a break from our favourite vampire slayer to watch yet another Joss Whedon show: Firefly. Learning a little bit from the past, I did not fight watching this show.

Firefly is some seriously good television, people. It's sci-fi, and I know that's not everytone's cup of tea, but this is sci-fi at it's best: no silly aliens, no techno-jargon, just solid story telling and strong, interesting characters. It's a shame that crap like Home Improvement or Everybody Loves Raymond can run for millenia, but a smart, thoughtful show like Firefly gets cancelled before a full season is up. Come on; even Joanie Loves Chaci got a season! Althoug there are many loose ends left by the show's urupt cancellation, fear not: there's a movie (rumoured to be the first of three) coming out this fall.

Listening to: the soft hum of the fan and 'Round About Midnight by the Miles Davis Quintet. There are few things in the world better than a Miles Davis solo.

All right, I'm back from an amazing vacation in St John's, Newfoundland. Seriously, one of the friendliest places on earth. Saw some whales, ate some fish and chips, and walked roughly thirty seven hundred miles. As awesome as the trip was, I came to realize soemthing about flying: I am the absolutely worst version of myself when I fly. All the stupid little things people do that I can usually shrug off drive me MENTAL when I'm strapped into a cramped, leatherette chair at 30'000 feet. If I'm ever going to commit murder, I'll be doing on the plane. Example: on the way back to Toronto we had a stop over in Moncton. This family (mom, dad and two kids) get on. The mom and the kids sit on one side of the plane, the dad sits a few rows up and on the opposite side of the plane (and directly behind me). They talked back and forth to each other the WHOLE way. Apparently the dad thought the flight needed uninformed play-by-play commentating (maybe it was the lack of inflight movie or even radio?): "Hey I think that's the St Laurence... Yeah, I think that's it. St. Laurence, maybe?" Golly, THAT was far more entertaining than the book I was trying to read. Cretin.

I loved getting to go swimming with god-daughter, Delphine. If flying turns me into the dread bastard-Mike, few things make me more benevolent and happy Mike than Del. The idea of swimming was just so exciting to her. Even though it was a little cool and her little lip was shivering, she couldn't contain her excitement at being in the water!

One of the best things we did in St. John's was the Haunted Hike. If any of you are heading to the Rock, I strongly suggest you go along for this merry, morbid and macabre tour.

I'll post more about my trip in the days to come. Til then:

Listening to: Milestones, Miles Davis.