What isn't the internet good for?

So tomorrow, May 23, is my birthday. It's not a big deal, and will, in all likelihood, slip by with little hoopla. May 23 is a date marked by intrigue, illlicitness, death, murder, and cartoons. Here are just some of the literally dozens interesting things that happened throughout the years on my birthday:


On May 23, 1430 Joan of Arc was captured by the Burgundians during the Siege of Compiègne. In 1498, Dominican priest and book burner Girolamo Savonarola was burned at the stake on the orders of Pope Alexander VI on May 23. And on May 23, the marriage of King Henry VIII to Catherine of Aragon was declared null and void in 1533, paving the way for Henry string of wives and the plotlines for "The Tudors." On May 23, 1929, "The Karnival Kid," the first talking cartoon of Mickey Mouse, primered. May 23, 1934 saw the end of American bank robbers Bonnie and Clyde, who were ambushed by police and killed in Black Lake, Louisiana. On that day in 1945 Heinrich Himmler, the head of the SS, committed suicide while in Allied custody. May 23 1995, was the day of the Oklahoma City bombing.

May 23rd is the shared birth date of clarinetist Artie Shaw; crooner and aunt of George, Rosemary Clooney; boxer Marvellous Marvin Hagler; singer/poet/cutie Jewel; and professional irritent, Drew Carey.

Feels like I'm walking on broken glass

Until I was walking a dog two or three times I day, I didn't really pay attention to how much broken glass there is on the streets of Winnipeg. Some of it is in front of businesses on Portage Ave, broken beer bottles after late-night carousing; some of it is in front of people's homes. I guess I can understand (that's not to say I like it) the former, but the later just baffles me. Who doesn't sweep up broken glass on the sidewalk in front of their house? It's been there for over a month!

In other news, I finally watched the first season of "The Flight of the Conchords." Ridiculously funny. I highly recommend it.

Here's sample.

Like moths on a stale yellow light...

My first year of university was what can only be described as a watershed year. I moved out of my parents' house; I struck out on my own; I met the woman who became my wife; I developed a love for literature and began on the path to my current career. Some of these new things were inconsequential - like learning to use chopsticks; others were considerably much more substantial.

One of the substantial discoveries I made that first year in Waterloo was the work of Leonard Cohen.

Someone on my residence floor played "The Future" a lot and I was drawn to the dark and witty imagery and hypnotic voice. I soon owned every Leonard Cohen and had purchased a large collection of his poetry. I got obscure out-of-print documentaries and television specials. I wrote strange dark love poems in Cohen's style. In my only public as a singer, my friend Doug and I belted out a pretty snazzy rendition of "First We Take Manhattan."

Last night, after 15 years, I finally saw Leonard Cohen in concert. And it was magical. At 75 years old, I wasn't sure what to expect, but when the man danced on to stage in his traditional black suit, I knew I was in for a magical evening.

With the exception of some lesser-known favourites, Cohen, in an almost 3 hour concert, sang almost every song I hoped for: "Suzanne," "Closing Time," Who By the Fire," "Tower of Song, "Famous Blue Raincoat," and "Hallelujah, which got its own standing ovation.