So I figure I should throw in some shorter posts on here. For one, the long posts tend to exhaust me, particularly on evenings after a long day of work. (And it was a long day: I was thrust into public service because of the flu bug that's making its way around the library.) And they give a break to my faithful readers, who I applaud for their stamina in reading my lengthier posts (although I have no way of knowing whether my readers - all four of you, I'm sure - are actually making it to the end of my ramblings).
The navel-gazing (ie., stupidity?) qualities of blogs
I was surfing through the channels last night after enjoying a hearty bowl of tomato soup and stumbled upon the Canadian hit show Corner Gas. It's a show I've seen a few times and generally enjoy. (Many years ago I saw Brent Butt hosting at a comedy club. I actually loath most stand-up comedy, but I thought he was wonderfully funny.) Last night's episode revolved around the slightly imbecilic Hank and his forays into the blogsphere. All I could think about is, "Geez, are my posts that pathetic?" It almost made me give up this November challenge.
The braces update
I'm going to resist the temptation (ok, it's not that tempting) to turn this blog into a braces blog. But I feel I would be remiss if I didn't mention what my first 24 hours as a braces-wearing adult was like. (24 down, another 13,000 or so to go...) The good news is that there was no pain today. Sure, a bit of pressure on the teeth, but nothing I couldn't handle. I guess the thing I'm going to have to get used is the feeling that there's food stuck in the braces and the wires - and the food itself being stuck in the braces and the wire! Thankfully I'm one of those rare people that truly enjoys brushing their teeth, so dipping into the loo to do a quick brush isn't such a big concern.
BTW, a big thank you to those offering their thumbs-up to the whole braces thing, especially those who have commented on this site. I'm feeling pretty self-conscious about the whole thing, so it's nice to get some support in this decision. It's very much appreciated, so thank you.
Crushes
I'm reading the biography of Gwendolyn MacEwan, perhaps the finest poet this country has ever seen, and I think I have a crush. Unfortunately she's dead. Sort-of reminds me of the Who song Pictures of Lily.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
The man with the metal mouth
So I guess today's news is that, for the first time in my life, I have braces on my teeth. Not surprisingly, it's a pretty big deal for me. For one, it requires something of a change in my eating habits: even something simple as my traditional breakfast (cereal, toast and an apple) has to be reconsidered. (I'm going to have some cream of wheat tomorrow. I just need to go out and buy some brown sugar. What's cream of wheat without brown sugar?!) I've been told to only eat soft foods for the first 24 hours. There's a tin of tomato soup in my cupboard with my name on it...
The procedure itself was pretty simple and painless. And the braces themselves aren't bugging me as much I expected. It helps that the braces are only on the top teeth - my orthodontist decided I don't need them on the bottom. And the arch wire (all these new terms I'm learning!) is not yet across my four front teeth. The braces themselves are, but he wants some of the other teeth to shift first before he deals with the front ones. (In fact, I don't think the two front teeth will be moving at all.) Still, they are metal and they are a new introduction to my mouth, so naturally there's going to be an adjustment. The amazing thing is that there are no elastics at all in my mouth. I have a relatively new type of braces called self-ligating, or "speed," braces. My orthodontist has been using them for about 3 years now and he says they are a benefit to both doctor and patient. Anyway, I'm sure some of you who read this site will eventually see me with the braces and you can give me a critique - or mock me mercilessly.
I know I promised to write about the whole thought- and decision-making process into getting the braces - including a discussion of the "tipping point" - but my heart isn't in it right now. But soon, I promise. I'm predicting that it's going to a lengthy post. Stay tuned!
To assuage any strange feelings I have about undertaking this braces project, I bought myself a nice bottle of single malt scotch. Seems no harm can be done to the braces with a bit of single malt swirling in my mouth...
The procedure itself was pretty simple and painless. And the braces themselves aren't bugging me as much I expected. It helps that the braces are only on the top teeth - my orthodontist decided I don't need them on the bottom. And the arch wire (all these new terms I'm learning!) is not yet across my four front teeth. The braces themselves are, but he wants some of the other teeth to shift first before he deals with the front ones. (In fact, I don't think the two front teeth will be moving at all.) Still, they are metal and they are a new introduction to my mouth, so naturally there's going to be an adjustment. The amazing thing is that there are no elastics at all in my mouth. I have a relatively new type of braces called self-ligating, or "speed," braces. My orthodontist has been using them for about 3 years now and he says they are a benefit to both doctor and patient. Anyway, I'm sure some of you who read this site will eventually see me with the braces and you can give me a critique - or mock me mercilessly.
I know I promised to write about the whole thought- and decision-making process into getting the braces - including a discussion of the "tipping point" - but my heart isn't in it right now. But soon, I promise. I'm predicting that it's going to a lengthy post. Stay tuned!
To assuage any strange feelings I have about undertaking this braces project, I bought myself a nice bottle of single malt scotch. Seems no harm can be done to the braces with a bit of single malt swirling in my mouth...
Sunday, November 05, 2006
My Murakami
I had a ready-made topic for today. (If you're at all curious, I'm not "banking" posts - in other words writing a few in a day and then posting them on days when I don't have time to write. I feel that goes against the spirit of this blog challenge. I'm mentally banking ideas, but that's all.) I was going to write about my teeth. After all, this is the last day for about a year and a half that I won't have metal in my mouth. Tomorrow is B-Day: braces day. I was going to write about the whole thought process about getting my teeth fixed - how my smile has affected my self esteem, etc. - but it's not something I feel much like analyzing today. Maybe I want to enjoy my crooked smile for one more day! Perhaps tomorrow when I get home from the orthodontist I'll do an examination of my feelings on straight teeth and what life is going to be like as a 30-something single male living with braces.
(A quick aside: According to one site I've visited, once I get the braces on I should be seeking out women with brazilian waxes and staying clear of the "bush supporters." As one male adult with braces wrote, "I'm afraid to get her hair caught in my brackets." Ouch. I bet you wish I was writing on this topic...) Anyway, the braces go on at around 1:30, so send some positive vibes my way at that time.
Instead, I want to write about the film I saw last night: Tony Takitani. I had one of those fortuitous moments yesterday while reading the paper - which in and of itself is somewhat fortuitous since I rarely buy the Saturday paper these days. There was a review in the Globe's book section on the latest Haruki Murakami work, a short story collection called Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. I read it a couple of weeks ago, and while not all of the stories were successful, it was overall a great read. Of course I'm already "on board" with the author: I've enjoyed all of Murakami's works, even those that some may consider lesser works, such as Sputnik Sweetheart. (His masterwork is The Wind-Up Chronicle. Highly recommended.)
I know I tend to overuse the word "sensibility," but it makes sense in this context: I'm just hip to Murakami's particular - and some might add peculiar - sensibility. And what is that sensibility? I can't say it any better than this sentence, which I found on Wikipedia: "Murakami's fiction is humorous and surreal, and at the same time reflects an essential alienation, loneliness and longing for love." Moreover, Murakami's protagonists, usually male (and much of his work is written in first person), tend to like women, whiskey and jazz. Sign me up!
So it was a surprise to read in the generally favourable review that one of the stories in the new collection, Tony Takitani, has been made into a film. Even better, it happened to be one of my favourite stories in the collection. The story revolves around the title character, Tony, who is a successful illustrator. (The first part of the story centres on his father, a jazz trombonist who is imprisoned in China during the second world war.) He meets and marries a woman when he's in his 30s. It's only after he meets her that he realizes how lonely his life has been. While he loves his wife and his new life, there's one thing that disturbs him: she's a compulsive clothes shopper, to the extent that they have to dedicate one whole room in their apartment to her wardrobe. Anyway, I don't want to spoil the rest for those that might to read it.
The film, released last year and which I found on DVD at Suspect Video yesterday, is pretty much faithful to the story. I was more interested in whether the director would be able to capture the Murakami sensibility. Rather, if it would capture what I feel is the Murakami sensibility.
One of the reasons I love to read is that it's a solitary exercise, one that I can bring my own precepts and prejudices to and not be questioned about. It's also a reason why I've always struggled with public readings (not to mention that I have a terrible attention span!): hearing the voice of the reader rather than my internal voice is bound to affect how I judge and enjoy the work. Movie adaptations can be particularly jarring. I remember seeing the film Witches of Eastwick, based on a novel (a minor one) by John Updike, many years ago and thinking, "Wait a minute, this can't be the same book I read." By their very nature, film adaptations of novels will almost always be a disappointment.
The good news is that the film Tony Takitani was quite good. For one, it was short! I particularly like short films (must be that attention span thing...). More important, I think it did capture what I like about Murakami stories: it was sedate and intelligent yet also passionate, funny and (of course) surreal. There's always a tinge of mystery to Murakami's characters: they tend to play their emotions close to the chest, but you know there's something brewing behind the facade. This film captured that. And I guess the highest praise I can offer is that it made me want to re-read the story. (Unfortunately it was a library book. I'll buy the collection when it's released in paperback.)
And I guess I'm struggling with this post because I've got the whole "bush supporter" and braces thing on the brain. Tomorrow, I'm sure.
(A quick aside: According to one site I've visited, once I get the braces on I should be seeking out women with brazilian waxes and staying clear of the "bush supporters." As one male adult with braces wrote, "I'm afraid to get her hair caught in my brackets." Ouch. I bet you wish I was writing on this topic...) Anyway, the braces go on at around 1:30, so send some positive vibes my way at that time.
Instead, I want to write about the film I saw last night: Tony Takitani. I had one of those fortuitous moments yesterday while reading the paper - which in and of itself is somewhat fortuitous since I rarely buy the Saturday paper these days. There was a review in the Globe's book section on the latest Haruki Murakami work, a short story collection called Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. I read it a couple of weeks ago, and while not all of the stories were successful, it was overall a great read. Of course I'm already "on board" with the author: I've enjoyed all of Murakami's works, even those that some may consider lesser works, such as Sputnik Sweetheart. (His masterwork is The Wind-Up Chronicle. Highly recommended.)
I know I tend to overuse the word "sensibility," but it makes sense in this context: I'm just hip to Murakami's particular - and some might add peculiar - sensibility. And what is that sensibility? I can't say it any better than this sentence, which I found on Wikipedia: "Murakami's fiction is humorous and surreal, and at the same time reflects an essential alienation, loneliness and longing for love." Moreover, Murakami's protagonists, usually male (and much of his work is written in first person), tend to like women, whiskey and jazz. Sign me up!
So it was a surprise to read in the generally favourable review that one of the stories in the new collection, Tony Takitani, has been made into a film. Even better, it happened to be one of my favourite stories in the collection. The story revolves around the title character, Tony, who is a successful illustrator. (The first part of the story centres on his father, a jazz trombonist who is imprisoned in China during the second world war.) He meets and marries a woman when he's in his 30s. It's only after he meets her that he realizes how lonely his life has been. While he loves his wife and his new life, there's one thing that disturbs him: she's a compulsive clothes shopper, to the extent that they have to dedicate one whole room in their apartment to her wardrobe. Anyway, I don't want to spoil the rest for those that might to read it.
The film, released last year and which I found on DVD at Suspect Video yesterday, is pretty much faithful to the story. I was more interested in whether the director would be able to capture the Murakami sensibility. Rather, if it would capture what I feel is the Murakami sensibility.
One of the reasons I love to read is that it's a solitary exercise, one that I can bring my own precepts and prejudices to and not be questioned about. It's also a reason why I've always struggled with public readings (not to mention that I have a terrible attention span!): hearing the voice of the reader rather than my internal voice is bound to affect how I judge and enjoy the work. Movie adaptations can be particularly jarring. I remember seeing the film Witches of Eastwick, based on a novel (a minor one) by John Updike, many years ago and thinking, "Wait a minute, this can't be the same book I read." By their very nature, film adaptations of novels will almost always be a disappointment.
The good news is that the film Tony Takitani was quite good. For one, it was short! I particularly like short films (must be that attention span thing...). More important, I think it did capture what I like about Murakami stories: it was sedate and intelligent yet also passionate, funny and (of course) surreal. There's always a tinge of mystery to Murakami's characters: they tend to play their emotions close to the chest, but you know there's something brewing behind the facade. This film captured that. And I guess the highest praise I can offer is that it made me want to re-read the story. (Unfortunately it was a library book. I'll buy the collection when it's released in paperback.)
And I guess I'm struggling with this post because I've got the whole "bush supporter" and braces thing on the brain. Tomorrow, I'm sure.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Singledom = boredom?
I received an e-mail yesterday from an east-coast dwelling friend who was responding to my note alerting her to this new blog venture. It seems she has high hopes for this blog, particularly since my mother would not be a reader. It sounds as if she's hoping for some juicy tales to entertain her. For one, she wants me to write on the topic of "fuck buddies," but I think I may take a pass on that unless I get truly desperate for material... "Personally," she wrote, "I have no idea what a thirty-something single man's life is all about." Which makes perfect sense: she's not yet in her 30s, she's not single and she's not a male. (Don't worry A.: I'm not taking the piss out of you!) I guess she figures stories of a city-dwelling bachelor would prove to be both interesting and educational. Hell, perhaps in some ways she's hoping to live vicariously through me!
However all I could think of was: great, yet-another challenge to add to the "month of challenges." I have to prove how wild and wonderful it is to be a 30-something single male.
I hate to dispel the image of the cool, swinging bachelor that I've tried to cultivate - yeah, right! - but the single life, or at least my single life, hasn't really been that grand of an adventure. Sure, this past year (and I've only been a 30-something single male for just over a year; before that, I was a pretty happy and stable attached male for almost all my 30s) has had its moments, but it's also been one of the most difficult years of my life. There's been some terribly painful and lonely moments, not to mention some unbelievably bewildering ones (I may write about some of them in a future post; stay tuned!). There has also been some serious questioning and soul searching of my motives to remove myself from a relationship that had many more highs than lows. In short, my first year of singledom has not only been a very thoughtful and somewhat self-loathing one, it's been the epitome of a classic up-and-down affair.
So what does a single male do on a free weekend like this? (And now that I think about it, it really is the first weekend in quite a while where I have absolutely nothing planned. There are no book sales, no parties and no commitments. The weekend time is entirely my own.) Well, this Saturday played out like most Saturdays: the cat woke me up at 7:00 to get fed, I went back to bed and slept for about another hour, got up and went to the local IGA to pick up some groceries to get me through the weekend and the first half of next week, had my breakfast (cereal, toast and melon) while reading the paper and listening to "The House" on CBC, did the dishes I had left from yesterday, made myself a pot of coffee, and brought the coffee and the paper to the next room to read while watching an English Premier League match. The rest of the day is still open, as are the evening hours. I'll probably do some reading, I may venture out to the movies, perhaps I'll take a nap.
Would you trade your life for mine?
However all I could think of was: great, yet-another challenge to add to the "month of challenges." I have to prove how wild and wonderful it is to be a 30-something single male.
I hate to dispel the image of the cool, swinging bachelor that I've tried to cultivate - yeah, right! - but the single life, or at least my single life, hasn't really been that grand of an adventure. Sure, this past year (and I've only been a 30-something single male for just over a year; before that, I was a pretty happy and stable attached male for almost all my 30s) has had its moments, but it's also been one of the most difficult years of my life. There's been some terribly painful and lonely moments, not to mention some unbelievably bewildering ones (I may write about some of them in a future post; stay tuned!). There has also been some serious questioning and soul searching of my motives to remove myself from a relationship that had many more highs than lows. In short, my first year of singledom has not only been a very thoughtful and somewhat self-loathing one, it's been the epitome of a classic up-and-down affair.
So what does a single male do on a free weekend like this? (And now that I think about it, it really is the first weekend in quite a while where I have absolutely nothing planned. There are no book sales, no parties and no commitments. The weekend time is entirely my own.) Well, this Saturday played out like most Saturdays: the cat woke me up at 7:00 to get fed, I went back to bed and slept for about another hour, got up and went to the local IGA to pick up some groceries to get me through the weekend and the first half of next week, had my breakfast (cereal, toast and melon) while reading the paper and listening to "The House" on CBC, did the dishes I had left from yesterday, made myself a pot of coffee, and brought the coffee and the paper to the next room to read while watching an English Premier League match. The rest of the day is still open, as are the evening hours. I'll probably do some reading, I may venture out to the movies, perhaps I'll take a nap.
Would you trade your life for mine?
Friday, November 03, 2006
the month of challenges
It seems that November is shaping up to be the month of challenges. There's this write-a-post-a-day challenge. There's the self-imposed get-back-running challenge. And as of 10 minutes ago, I've added the Reading Challenge. I stole this idea from J-love, who is taking up the challenge via Kate's Book Blog. Basically it asks one to take five books that one has already purchased but hasn't yet read, and read them before January 30th. Truthfully, this is exactly the type of challenge I need. For one, it's well-timed: I recently did some re-shuffling and re-shelving of my books, the result of the book shelf above my bed nearly falling on my head one night. I've since moved some of them to my dresser, as evidenced here:
(I have to admit, I didn't think that I'd be adding pictures so early in the month. I figured I'd be using them as props later in the month when I got tired of this blog challenge.)
I've also recently bought about 20 books from the various college book sales at the University of Toronto, so I'm not short of reading material. But I guess this challenge is one way to get rid of the backlog of books on my shelf - or as I like to call it, "the reading queue." (Once they get read, they move to a different bookcase, or are given away or traded. I'm trying to reduce the clutter in my life: physical, mental and emotional - that alone is worth another blog post...)
So I've chosen the books for the reading challenge. I've tried to include both lengthy ones (although no classic Russian novels or Dickens) and somewhat short-ish books. They are (and I'm not necessarily going to read them in this order):
- The Assault by Harry Mulisch (a book I've owned for about five years, I think, but have just never got around to reading; this challenge was made for books like this)
- Burning the Days by James Salter (a memoir from one of the most underrated American authors; if you haven't read his A Sport and a Pastime, go out now and pick it up)
- Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene (I hope to eventually read all of Greene's works; he epitomizes my mantra of reading books that are "literate yet accessible")
- To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf (I picked this because I stole the challenge from J-love, and she said she's going to pick a Woolf)
- Deception by Philip Roth (this will probably be the easiest since Roth is probably my favourite author).
So there you go. And just to prove I have all these books at my ready disposal, another photo:
Of course I still have to finish the biography of Gwendolyn MacEwen before I start to think about what book I'll read first from that list. Not to mention I have another couple of books waiting for me at the library.
So who among you is going to join me in this challenge?
(I have to admit, I didn't think that I'd be adding pictures so early in the month. I figured I'd be using them as props later in the month when I got tired of this blog challenge.)
I've also recently bought about 20 books from the various college book sales at the University of Toronto, so I'm not short of reading material. But I guess this challenge is one way to get rid of the backlog of books on my shelf - or as I like to call it, "the reading queue." (Once they get read, they move to a different bookcase, or are given away or traded. I'm trying to reduce the clutter in my life: physical, mental and emotional - that alone is worth another blog post...)
So I've chosen the books for the reading challenge. I've tried to include both lengthy ones (although no classic Russian novels or Dickens) and somewhat short-ish books. They are (and I'm not necessarily going to read them in this order):
- The Assault by Harry Mulisch (a book I've owned for about five years, I think, but have just never got around to reading; this challenge was made for books like this)
- Burning the Days by James Salter (a memoir from one of the most underrated American authors; if you haven't read his A Sport and a Pastime, go out now and pick it up)
- Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene (I hope to eventually read all of Greene's works; he epitomizes my mantra of reading books that are "literate yet accessible")
- To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf (I picked this because I stole the challenge from J-love, and she said she's going to pick a Woolf)
- Deception by Philip Roth (this will probably be the easiest since Roth is probably my favourite author).
So there you go. And just to prove I have all these books at my ready disposal, another photo:
Of course I still have to finish the biography of Gwendolyn MacEwen before I start to think about what book I'll read first from that list. Not to mention I have another couple of books waiting for me at the library.
So who among you is going to join me in this challenge?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
I'm a groupie!
I almost never get mail - and I mean "real" mail, aside from my three regular monthly bills (credit card, telephone and cable; truth be told, they should be saving themselves the cost of a stamp and sending them to me electronically). So what a surprise to come home today and see a package sticking out of the mailbox (newly painted blue, I should add) addressed to me. Yes, it was so big that it couldn't fit in the box! Even better, it came with a US customs sticker on it (although it didn't appear that it was opened by our fine Canadian customs workers), which means it came from all the way across the border! "Who could be sending me such a wonderful gift?" I said to no one in particular.
Actually, I was sort-of expecting this package: I was alerted to it via an e-mail about a week ago from (wait for it) the fan club I belong to. Yes, I'll come clean: I'm a member of a fan club. It's taken me over 30 years ago to finally be a part of something! Even stranger, it's a club whose primary demographic is both half my age and of a different sex. In short, I'm a new member of Local-83, which is the official John Mayer fan club.
Some background is needed, I think. First off, I like John Mayer's music. I make no apologies for that. "Your Body is a Wonderland" aside (I really don't like that song, which is the song that Mayer haters will immediately point to; and to his credit, he no longer plays it in concert), I think the guy is a great songwriter. He's sort-of a throwback: he writes tuneful tunes that also contain interesting and complex chords (a Mayer tune is not populated with the standard D-G-A chord progression). Ok, perhaps his lyrics border on the trite, but I've never been one to dwell on song lyrics. If I want poetry, I'll read poetry. He's also a kick-ass guitar player, and his new album, Continuum, is a great leap forward in terms of his musical progression.
Anyway, before I belabour this story to death and lose the few readers I have, I should get to the point. The reason I joined the fan club was to score tickets to Mayer's show a few weeks back at the Mod Club. He announced he was doing a show solely for fan club members - one could only purchase tickets via the fan club web site. So I figured, what the hell: I'd join and hopefully score tickets to the show. It's always great to see one's favourite musicians in small, intimate settings. (Joe Jackson at the Phoenix, for example, ranks as one of the best shows I've ever seen.)
To make an increasingly long story somewhat shorter, I didn't get tickets. Which basically makes me feel that I wasted my hard-earned $25 (in US currency no less, although thankfully the Cdn. dollar is strong as hell these days against the mighty George Washington bill). So what did I get? Let's start with what I didn't get: the advertised six-month subscription to Rolling Stone magazine - only US citizens are entitled to that benefit (not that I've read Rolling Stone in a decade, mind you). What I did receive was one of those trendy bracelets made popular by Lance Armstrong (this one is not yellow and charity based, however, but a blatant and shameless plug for the new album), a key chain and an autographed photo, which now has an honoured place on my fridge:
Although I'm looking at the signature and thinking to myself that it might actually be signed by the president of the fan club since I can't spot the name "John Mayer" in that signature.
In my musical defence - and I agree it's a flimsy one at best - is that I'm currently listening to the new Keith Jarrett, The Carnegie Hall Concert, which is uncompromising, challenging and wonderful.
Actually, I was sort-of expecting this package: I was alerted to it via an e-mail about a week ago from (wait for it) the fan club I belong to. Yes, I'll come clean: I'm a member of a fan club. It's taken me over 30 years ago to finally be a part of something! Even stranger, it's a club whose primary demographic is both half my age and of a different sex. In short, I'm a new member of Local-83, which is the official John Mayer fan club.
Some background is needed, I think. First off, I like John Mayer's music. I make no apologies for that. "Your Body is a Wonderland" aside (I really don't like that song, which is the song that Mayer haters will immediately point to; and to his credit, he no longer plays it in concert), I think the guy is a great songwriter. He's sort-of a throwback: he writes tuneful tunes that also contain interesting and complex chords (a Mayer tune is not populated with the standard D-G-A chord progression). Ok, perhaps his lyrics border on the trite, but I've never been one to dwell on song lyrics. If I want poetry, I'll read poetry. He's also a kick-ass guitar player, and his new album, Continuum, is a great leap forward in terms of his musical progression.
Anyway, before I belabour this story to death and lose the few readers I have, I should get to the point. The reason I joined the fan club was to score tickets to Mayer's show a few weeks back at the Mod Club. He announced he was doing a show solely for fan club members - one could only purchase tickets via the fan club web site. So I figured, what the hell: I'd join and hopefully score tickets to the show. It's always great to see one's favourite musicians in small, intimate settings. (Joe Jackson at the Phoenix, for example, ranks as one of the best shows I've ever seen.)
To make an increasingly long story somewhat shorter, I didn't get tickets. Which basically makes me feel that I wasted my hard-earned $25 (in US currency no less, although thankfully the Cdn. dollar is strong as hell these days against the mighty George Washington bill). So what did I get? Let's start with what I didn't get: the advertised six-month subscription to Rolling Stone magazine - only US citizens are entitled to that benefit (not that I've read Rolling Stone in a decade, mind you). What I did receive was one of those trendy bracelets made popular by Lance Armstrong (this one is not yellow and charity based, however, but a blatant and shameless plug for the new album), a key chain and an autographed photo, which now has an honoured place on my fridge:
Although I'm looking at the signature and thinking to myself that it might actually be signed by the president of the fan club since I can't spot the name "John Mayer" in that signature.
In my musical defence - and I agree it's a flimsy one at best - is that I'm currently listening to the new Keith Jarrett, The Carnegie Hall Concert, which is uncompromising, challenging and wonderful.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Just made it
I know, I'm getting this in just under the midnight wire - not exactly the way I wanted to start this November challenge! I was going to write this morning, but decided that since I was up early I'd go for a run instead. (I've really allowed my running to slip over the last couple of months, to the point where I'm starting to feel I'm going slightly "soft." So I'm also making November the "month to get off my ass and back on my running route.") And I just didn't have a spare moment at work to put something coherent together. And then I had made plans to go visit my friend R. to watch the first Toronto Raptor game of the season (they lost). But I figured I'd be home in time to put something together - and you're reading that something. (This is already starting to sound like one of those tired columns from an idea-short columnist, one who should have been put out to pasture several columns ago. There was a Globe and Mail columnist who wrote for years in the Arts section that would spend the first part of his column writing about the act of writing the column - proof that he really was bereft of ideas. I'm hoping to avoid those type of posts.)
I was hoping to write about music today, specifically the new album from The Who. I'm sure many of you are out there are saying, "You mean The Who is actually still around?" Even I'll admit that the band certainly isn't what it used to be - how could it with only two surviving members? But I always considered myself more of a Pete Townshend fan than a genuine fan of The Who. In fact, Townshend was the first musical artist I discovered on my own, without the help of my two older and musically inclined brothers. It was easy to be influenced by their musical tastes, but neither of them exposed me to The Who during my formative years. Instead, I discovered a love of Townshend tunes all by my lonesome. There's something about Townshend himself that always appealed to me: for one, he always seemed a little honest (a naked honesty, really) for his own good. (That continues to this day. He foolishly decided to go on the Howard Stern show a couple of weeks ago where he was grilled about the whole child pornography stuff that cropped up a couple of years ago - charges that were eventually dropped. He ended up walking out of the Stern show, which of course made him look foolish.) I felt a real affinity for Pete, something that continues to this day.
So what do I think of the new album? Well, I've only given it one listen, and it was a very cursory one. And for reasons that I can't quite figure out, it didn't seem to transfer to my iPod after I imported it to iTunes (I'm not really a wiz with technology; just don't tell my place of employment that since I'm one of the webmasters...). Basically my evaluation of the album will provide me another subject for another future November post.
See, how hard is this going to be?
I was hoping to write about music today, specifically the new album from The Who. I'm sure many of you are out there are saying, "You mean The Who is actually still around?" Even I'll admit that the band certainly isn't what it used to be - how could it with only two surviving members? But I always considered myself more of a Pete Townshend fan than a genuine fan of The Who. In fact, Townshend was the first musical artist I discovered on my own, without the help of my two older and musically inclined brothers. It was easy to be influenced by their musical tastes, but neither of them exposed me to The Who during my formative years. Instead, I discovered a love of Townshend tunes all by my lonesome. There's something about Townshend himself that always appealed to me: for one, he always seemed a little honest (a naked honesty, really) for his own good. (That continues to this day. He foolishly decided to go on the Howard Stern show a couple of weeks ago where he was grilled about the whole child pornography stuff that cropped up a couple of years ago - charges that were eventually dropped. He ended up walking out of the Stern show, which of course made him look foolish.) I felt a real affinity for Pete, something that continues to this day.
So what do I think of the new album? Well, I've only given it one listen, and it was a very cursory one. And for reasons that I can't quite figure out, it didn't seem to transfer to my iPod after I imported it to iTunes (I'm not really a wiz with technology; just don't tell my place of employment that since I'm one of the webmasters...). Basically my evaluation of the album will provide me another subject for another future November post.
See, how hard is this going to be?
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