Bland on the run

So, here I am at my parents home in Ontario. Actually, I'm typing this in the room that I grew up in. There's a few more stuffed sheep (I'm afraid to ask what that's about) and a few less video tapes, but there's an odd familiarity sitting here. Sort of like an awkward hug from a distant cousin.

I've seen a few people from my old life, and so far that's all been good. Went over to my old highschool and spoke an English teacher I always liked and admired (he let me read Lady Chatterly's Lover in highschool). Went out for dinner with an old friend, whose life has taken a very different path these last few months. I have lunch with another old friend tomorrow and then coffee with some highschool friends. It'll be a long day, but I'm looking forward to it.

Free love on the Free love freeway

Does the fact that my new favourite show, "The Office," won the Emmy for best Comedy series mean that the Emmys are hipping it up or that I'm getting lamer? I mean, had "Two and a Half Men" won I would have sold my TV, but surely the Emmys have finally got around to recognizing good television... right? Right?

Congrats to my "friends" at the Office.

In (slightly) related news: my friend Emmie wrote me from Japan. She's hip.

She feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China

I went to see Cirque de Soleil yesterday afternoon, and it was pretty damn impressive, I must admit. About half way through the show that I realized something, though. As impressive as it is, Cirque de Soleil is all about crotches: displaying crotches, girrating crotches, putting people's heads or hands on/near crotches.


Just thought I'd share that.

Way Over Yonder in a Minor Key

In shockingly insensitive news: apparently David Brent (from BBC's "The Office") has found a job preparing "So Now You're Laid Off"packages at Northwest Airlines. Read more here.

Brandy, you're a fine girl

I have over 4000 views. I should feelgood about that, and I would except for the fact that at least half of those are from me pulling up the site to see if the counter's moved. *sigh* Though I'm told that people stop by here, read my silliness and *gasp* don't comment.

All right, kiddies. Time for a list. This one is my 17 (in no particular order) greatest characters in Television history.*

* I say "television history" but I'm only going to consider shows I've watched since exiting my mother's netherparts 31 years ago. So, don't bring me the "what about Lucy?" stuff. If I watched it, even in syndication, it's game.

1. Dan Fielding - "Night Court": John Larroquette played the fine line between disgusting pig and charmer like no one else.
2. Buffy - "Buffy the Vampire Slayer": hot chick who kicks tail. Nuff said.
3. House - "House": Hugh Laurie is the freakin' man. Anyone who can convincingly play a British fop (Bertie Wooster) and an American misanthrope (House) is a friend of mine.
4. Edmund Blackadder - various Blackadder series: Rowan Atkinson as Mr. Bean makes me sad. As good as he is as the silent Bean, he is ten times better as a sarcastic sadistic Blackadder.
5. David Brent - The Office: Ricky Gervais made uncomfortable so funny in this groundbreaking series.
6. Mr. Hooper - "Sesame Street": His death was the first real loss many children experienced because Sesame Street would not recast the part. They showed that children need not be coddled or spoken down to or tricked... then they gave us Elmo and pooped all over that idea.
7. Inspector Morse - Inspector Morse: John Thaw's interpretation of the sullen, grumpy C.I.D. was wonderful. Morse was brilliant, cultured and very often wrong in his conclusions.
8. David Fisher - "Six Feet Under": In this the smartest and most well written series on television, David was the most interesting character. The "good" son, who struggles with his sexual, religious and personal identities.
9. Lou Grant - "Mary Tyler Moore Show": Ed Asner is one cool old man. Funny and scary all at the same time.
10. Wesley Wyndham Price - "Buffy" and "Angel": Wes's evolution from goof to badass was one of my favourite story arches of recent memory. The pain and self-loathing, the unrequited love... a little close to home.
11. Fonzie - "Happy Days": Before Arthur (and the show) jumped the shark, The Fonz was the man.
12. Homer - "The Simpsons": While the show's endless self referential nature has turned me off, this once great show hit its stride when it chose Homer as the focal character.
13. Keith Mars - "Veronica Mars": He maybe the greatest TV dad of all time. When lame parental figures are the norm, Keith stands out. He genuinely cares about his daughter and respects her.
14. Rube - "Dead Like Me": Mandy Patinkin's second greatest role. As the patriarchal reaper Rube, you never quite knew where he was coming from.
15. KITT - "Knight Rider": More personality and character than his human counterpart, KITT made a show starring David Hasselhoff bearable. Baywatch producers needed dozens of jiggling breasts to achieve the same thing.
16. Basil Fawlty – “Fawlty Towers”: Angry was never as funny.
17. Jack Bauer – “24”: He pulls too many all nighters for a guy his age.

See the way she walks

University: Wilfrid Laurier

When you attended, where did you live?
Year 1: 3rd Floor, Willison Hell, I mean "Hall"
Year 2-5: 413 Hazel Street apt 202

Who was your roommate?
1. Chuck... something
2. Flatmates: Brad, Doug and then...
3. Rachel

Ever get in trouble in the dorms? Nope. With people puking in garbage cans and stealing tvs, I somehow managed to stay under the radar.

Phone number? I have no idea.

First party attended? Um, probably the first or second day of Frosh Week. That was like one big party.

Favourite pizza place? Domino's

Favourite place to go out to eat? China Garden. We went there a lot in first year. And they still remember me and what I want after all this time.

Did you go to the library? Yes.

What was your favourite floor you'd always be on? I don't understand the question.

Where did you buy your books? The campus bookstore and Second Look Books.

Play any sports? Oh my no.

Ever attend a sporting event? Oh my no.

In any clubs? Not that I recall.

Ever attend a concert or comedic performance? Yup, Spirit of the West. Great Big Sea, some comedy event (can't recall anyone standing out as good), the Watchmen

Favourite professors? most of my Englis profs were great: Boire, Jewinski, Weldon, Moore

Favourite night to go out on and where? Any night to China Garden or Princess Cinema

Where did you get coffee? Rain Tree Cafe, Grabba Jabba

Favourite Year of Halloween? First year. I went as Jack Kerouac, which meant Levis, rumpled shirt and a bottle of wine.

Favourite memory? Of all of University? I don't have just one.

Ever had a job? video stores, day camps in the summers

What do you hate about your college? The focus on Business students

What do you love most about it? I learned that I could get a PhD.

Where would you believe is the best location to live in? First year: Residence for sure; I'd go with a "quiet res" though. Second year and beyond: Hazel Street was nice.

Graduated or still attending? BA (Hons) 98; MA 99.

Will you go back? I would LOVE to go back and teach there.

How many parking tickets have you got there? Not a one!

Ever gotten arrested? Nope.

They come together whom their love parted

If there's one thing more terrifying than snakes on a plane, it's Tilley Hat man on the bus. I officially gave up taking the REALLY early bus to work a couple of weeks ago and have been taking the MODERATELY early bus instead. The only trouble with the MODERATELY early bus is the dread Tilley Hat Man. Thankfully, I've been blesses with two new bus mates who share my extreme dislike of the Tilley Hat Man. All three of us exit at the same stop, turn to each other and ask, "Can you believe that man?" It's amusing how friendships can be built on a foundation of wishing someone a sever case of laryngitis.

The Tilley Hate man wasn't on the bus today... and I must say I was a little disappointed. It's like people who are mis-diagnosed with a terminal disease become depressed when they find out they aren't dying. It seems I've come to define the bus ride by my anger at how annoying he is. Without him and his loud orations, I have nothing to be angry at. And that makes me sad.

So long, Marianne

Over at Pitchfork.com, they've complied their choices for the 200 best songs of the 1960s. While I don't necessarily agree with the order they've chosen, as you flip through the list you can't help but realize that the 1960s were any incredible for music. From Bobby Darin to the roots of reggee, from the Beach Boys to the Beatles, from the Stones to the Who, from Dylan to Cohen, music mattered. I find it hard to imagine the 2060 Pitchfork equivalent sorting through Blink 182 or Jessica Simpson tracks looking for the best 200 songs of the 2010s. At a time when a singer's breasts attract more media attention than her song or when who a musician dates rates over actual talent, this list makes me pine for a time when singers sang from the heart and guts be they plain or ugly.

If you like good music, look through the list. There's probably something there you haven't heard, but should.

I just wanna bang on my drum all day

My grandma used to say."Don't be afraid of the rain, 'coz you're not made of sugar." But wouldn't it be awesome if you were made of sugar. That would be so sweet.... unless you were diabetic. Then it would still be sweet, but that sweetness would probably kill you.

All agents are still busy. Please hold and we'll answer your call in rotation

I don't know if the guy who wrote "Play that Funky Music, White boy" thought of the song as a brass band number... but he should have.

Waited on a line of feelin' blue

People get offended when you tell them they smell... when they clearly do. And no, I don't mean smell as a verb, as in they possess the ability to detect odours with their nasal abilities. I mean they are smelly. They have odour. And I can detect it with my nasal ability.

Despite the fact that that phrase - "You smell" - has no value judgement whatsoever, people tend to take it to mean "You smell bad." They get all self conscious and embarassed (or angry and violent, it depends). Yet people spend a lot of time and money trying to smell. They buy creams and lotions, cologne and perfume, soaps and body washes. People WANT to smell. And that's good. What I can't understand is why so many peopl want to smell like food. As per an earlier blog, I smell like Lime and a Cocoanut. How many fruit scented lipbalms are there? I sat behind a woman on the bus today who was wearing vanilla perfume. VANILLA! She was talking to her friend about this perfume. It was new and "didn't it smell wonderful?" Wonderful? I wanted to lick her And not in some disturbing, sexual manner. She smelled like a cake! I was hungry!

I think I may have just discovered something about our culture's bizarre relationship to food.

The future's not ours to see

There's new body wash in my shower. I assume my wife bought it; she's usually the one who buys stuff. This new body wash is called "Lime and Coconut." I used it, but now I'm concerned about smelling like a Harry Nilsson song.

Lay me down in sheets of lemon

When I read this, I smiled. A bridge in Hungary is going to be named for American karate... guy, Chuck Norris. So, is it wooden with very little support?

Hoodoo Voodoo

Holy crap, it's hard to concentrate today. Hard to concentrate, hard to care.

Heard some Man-in-the-Tilley-Hat stories the other day, but for the life of me I can't remember what they were about. Probably the usual fare: obnoxious and loud monologues. The last time I was on the bus with him he had his son with him. The kid was six, maybe seven years old. He didn't say much (how could he with his dad yammering on and on), and I couldn't help but feel bad for him. I only deal with the MITTH once or twice a week; he has to live with him EVERY DAY. Wonder if that's how those Menedez kids went bad?

You know who I am, he said

So, I spent the morning in the Manitoba Provincial Archives. And yes, it was as much fun as it sounds. I'm supposed to be doing prelim research for a book on Manitoba film, so the author wanted me to go through all the records of film holding in the archives. Now, if the archives were digital (like everything else in this crazy world) this would be no problemo. But, alas, it's not. I guess they figure "We got old crap - why have computers too?" I can't remember the last time I had to use a card catalogue.. though I suppose the fact that I did use one once upon a time means that I'm getting old.

So there I sat, with three large binders of all the film holdings in the collection a legal pad and a pencil. And are these films exciting lost-gems of cinematic wonderfulness? Maybe you're not paying attention: they really, really suck!

Most of the stuff appears to be home movies of the long deceased or industrial training films from the 1940s. It seems like every club and organization made a short film about themselves at some point. Okay, there were a couple of flicks I thought, "I wouldn't mind checking that out" (like the Bing Crosby/Alfafla short promoting Canadian Victory Bonds) but those were few and far between.

I left there feeling much ill-will towards film and movies in general, so I decided I'd better stop at the UW and glance through their collection film books in the library to cheer me up. For being such a small school, UW has a remarkably good selection of film books. I re-read Richard Dyer's BFI book on Brief Encounter (which I'm using for my thesis) and picked up a book on Star-acting (my current focus) and Christmas and the Movies - as I've figured out a way to write about my favourite holiday film of all time: Brian Desmond Hurst's Scrooge (1951).

Whatever gets you through today

I'm cat sitting for my across the street neighbours for the next couple of weeks. I'm not a big cat fan (as some people know), but these cats are unlike any cats I've ever met in my life. Most cats are of the "who the hell are you and why the hell should I care" school. As long as you feed them and clean up their poop, they aren't much interested in you. These cats like attention. They crave it. They are not skittish or scaredy or anything esle I've understood cats to be.

I went over the other day to read the New York Times. I was sitting on the couch in the livingroom, reading about the amazing cornucopia of films one can see if one lived in Manhattan, and suddenly there a cat on me. Now, the cat didn't just climb into my lap, it leaped across the room and landed on the paper. I tried to shift the little fuzzball so that I could at least read while it sat on me, but to no avail. I tried to pick it up, but it just flopped over. I thought about standing up, but was afraid it would use its claws to stay up.

I'd probably still be sitting there if it hadn't needed to use the litterbox.

I can't stand the rain

over at FilmCritic.com, a few folks ahave put their heads together to come up with the 50 Greatest Movie Endings of All Time. The list isn't too bad; there are some perennial favourites (Dr. Strangelove, Chinatown, Casablanca)and some WTFs (Real Genius, Before Sunrise and Being There). I couldn't help but feel like they missed one of the greatest endings of all-time: Monty Python's Life of Brian. Not only is the all-cross rendition of "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" the perfect note to end this bitter-sweet exploration of religion and faith, it has ellipsed the film itself. "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" has become an anthem for second rate sports teams and even the British Navy. It's the perfect loser song.