The times they are a literally changin'

Talking about the weather in Canada is not relegated to the realm of chit chat conversation. We above the 49th love to talk about how sunny it is, or how sad the rain was, or the size of hail, or how although it was overcast where you lived my area was sunny and dry.

Moreover, Canadians value the option of four seasons to choose a favourite from more than perhaps any people in the world; and this is where my mind has been lately.

For the longest time, my favourite season was Autumn for myriad reasons: foliage; sweater-but-no-jacket weather; my birthday; halloween candy; the World Series.

As age has ravaged me however, I find myself increasingly basking (sometimes literally) in the joy of sunshine. As a result, and at the risk of seeming disloyal, I came to the sudden realization today that I have been disillusioned by my own romanticism for the vast majority of my life. Let's get real -- #TeamSpring is where it's at.

The warming thaw of sunny days after a long Winter (or historically short, whatevs) is simply too much to ignore. Throw in everyone starting to strip off cumbersome pants, the NBA and NHL playoffs, the start of baseball season, the first BBQ of the year and the first patio visit and Spring just look like it's holding a stacked hand.

Sure, everyone loves Summer with good merit, but I've always found it insufferably hot. Likewise, Winter obviously has it's shortcomings. But saying Fall is your favourite seasons always seemed like it actually told something about a person; it meant you like Dylan albums and vintage clothing, y'know? Autumn seems more artsy. But at this point in my life, artsy just doesn't keep warm my heart's cockles anymore. I need more from a season than nice pictures and knit sweaters.

My point is, Autumn, I can't wait till you come around. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the flowers blooming and plaid tube-top wearing concert going hipster girls.

Ideal weather: 22 degrees celsius, 35% humidity, Sunny with some cloud cover, gentle breeze, 0% POP.

Hypothetical #589714

Do you ever wonder if the guy who invented the clock radio is happy with his life?

I mean, sure, it was a great idea. He's probably rich. But did he really invent anything? Do you wonder if he ever feels like a fraud? Or that he just got lucky and doesn't deserve his fortune -- like someone winning the lottery?

Birth of a Boat Shoe

It's a coincidence the recent Kelefa Sanneh article over at the New Yorker was passed around this weekend here at the blog, because I've been thinking about all this racial paradigm business recently and for me, it all starts with feet.

Sure, it might seem more macro when Sanneh wonders aloud if "white is the new black" in observing a new burgeoning visible majority; just as wondering what that would make "old black" or "new white" a question wrought with grey tinged complexities. Still, it's not the social, political or even anthropological issues that I find most confusing.

It's the shoes man. Boat shoes, to be specific.

I can't wrap my head around the latest trend in sneaker culture (a community as intertwined with hip-hop and urban minorities as vegans are with tofu) hypebeasting the hell out of boat shoes. It's even evolved, with Nike and Vans getting into the act of mashing boat shoes with classic Dunk and Chukka silhouettes.

There are aspects of boat shoes I do get. I mean, they look neat. Some of them have piping and tassels, great. But at what point did wanting to dress like a retired investment banker on holiday become certified street fresh? I realize this look isn't particularly new, it snuck up slowly but now that the ensemble is complete, is anybody else stepping back and asking "really? what the fuck?"

Let's break down some popular male streetwear trends: Louis Vutton bags, Gucci loafers, gingham shirts, bow ties, bespoke suits. Isn't this how Ted Kennedy dressed? I can only assume this reverse co-option is apropos of white people hijacking rock music, blues and Michael Jackson.

Ironically of course, (mainly white) hipsters continue to attempt to go the opposite route, purposely using socioeconomic advantages to try and purchase authenticity. Basically, that means paying two-thousand dollars on designer clothes to look like you only spent two dollars at the local Value Village. Grinding sneaker collectors want to look like they're heading to the Hamptons while kids from upstate all want to dress like sneaker collectors.

So I mean, if rich white people want to look like less rich black folk, while less rich black folk want to look like (old) rich white guys, doesn't this all turn into some sort of Donnie Darko catch-22 cyclical space continuum tear type of deal or whatever?

Or maybe not? I mean, maybe boat shoes are actually not being appropriated. Maybe people just like wearing boat shoes. Who decided white people own Fred Perry kicks anyways? Who decided it had to be an us vs. them proposition all the time with clothes, or shoes, or music?

I guess in my mind I wonder about the value of Sanneh's piece after having given it time to simmer. Important to note that I'm not aiming for piety here, I'm merely wondering aloud: if we're aiming for post-racial shouldn't we be wondering how our race paradigms are confining us more than how we should best observe and redefine our differences?

Kind of like how no one actually wears fucking boat shoes on a boat anyways -- it's a name that no longer means anything so who cares if you're rocking them at the club?

Maybe one day we'll get to that point with race as well.

Doing things alone

Yesterday I went to see Beach House play the Opera House (that must be confusing if you don't go to a lot of concerts or listen to a lot of hipster music, I apologize).

It was, in my recollection, the first time I have intentionally gone to see a gig alone. I must say, it was an interesting experience. Part of the reason people go to concerts is to bask in the communal energy of live music. If we just wanted to be introspective about tunes, we could sit in our dark corners with headphones on. The energy a live crowd imparts to a performer and vice versa is one of those rare bouts of reality digitization simply has not been able to emulate.

Watching a concert on Blu-Ray is just not the same as attending one, no matter how loud you crank that 5.1 surround sound audio. This is most markedly obvious when you compare the concert experience to sports.

Although both are live events, some people prefer to watch athletic competition on TV, where you have the best viewing angles, commentary, instant replay and easy access to your fridge. This just isn't the case with music. The worst nose bleed seats at a Justin Beiber concert are still invaluable to any 12 year old girl, much more than an advance copy of the DVD recording.

With that in mind, going to a concert alone is at once the same as going with friends, albeit slightly bi-polar. By that I mean: when there is music on stage, you don't really notice. Nobody really talks much when performers are on anyways, so no difference at all there.

When there is no music however, (i.e. before the openers, in between sets, after the final song) it's a palpable sense of dissatisfaction. By nature you want to share this experience with someone, but really there's just the other lonely dude beside you in the crazy ball cap.

Anyways, as I sat there, I couldn't help but think about how odd that was -- the fact that musical events are such a unique and difficult to reproduce experience.

So yea, it was kind of disaffecting to be alone at a great show. At the same time, I don't regret going because Beach House was pretty awesome. Basically, I've concluded I'd rather miss a major sporting event than regret not seeing a great band live when I had the chance.

Basically, today's moral? Everyone should go see more live music.

Unlikely update: presented by insomnia

Say theoretically, somebody turned your life into a movie. A frame-by-frame duplication of some of the most memorable moments you have ever experienced, strung together into a somewhat comprehendible narrative.

What kind of movie would it be, genre wise? Comedy? Drama? Would it have an arc? Would there be any sort of resolution? What would the major conflict be? Antagonists? Thematic structures? What would be the appropriate directorial style?

Who would play you?

Do you believe after watching it, you would perceive yourself any differently?

Do you feel old?

Because I do. Technically, I should still be somewhere in the vicinity of my physical prime right now, but I'm finding that I can't run as fast, stop as fast, jump as high, last as long or generally stop myself from feeling wonky like I used to.

What used to come easy now seems like an arduous effort.

Or maybe I'm just mad my jumper is rusty, having not really been on the court in a few weeks.

Still. Damn you, time.

Well fuck

No, that's the whole post.

Awesome

Best of Craigslist: July-Sept 2009

condoms and door knobs.

I have 750 kiss of mint condoms that expired in 3/2004. I have 750 lubricated colored condoms that expired in 9/2006. They are no longer safe for pregnancy prevention but do have several other uses. They make great water balloons, safe sex educational tools, balloon animals etc... What you do with them is your business but I strongly advise that you do not use them for pregnancy prevention. They have been properly maintained in air conditioned and lighting controlled conditions. They should be ok for use but to be on the safe side I would not use them for sexual purposes. That being said if you want them let me know and we can arrange a pick up.

I also have 11 door knobs. I recently replaced them and have no use for them now. If anyone has any use for either the condoms or the door knobs let me know.

Wanted: Non-exclusive long distance relationship

Me: Charming, articulate and intelligent.

You: A good baker, likes to take care of her man with frequent care packages.

I am the only guy on craigslist who is not looking for sex or female companionship. Those I can get. There is however one thing missing in my life of late. Ever since breaking up with my long distance girlfriend, the amount of unsolicited baked goods arriving in my mailbox has dropped precipitously. Given my relative lack of baking skills and my propensity to avoid paying for food, I figured the most rational solution was to find another long distance girlfriend who enjoys surprising her man with frequent care packages (chocolate chip cookies and rice krispies treats are by far the best).

The exchange is simple. You provide regular care package service and in return I provide emotional support, validation and the occasional, "You're right! They *are* just jealous!" I'll be the boyfriend that Disney's soulless corporate machine has convinced you you want. Your parents will be happy you finally found someone, your friends and coworkers will be jealous that you have a guy who doesn't routinely try to slip it in the "oops hole," and your stalkers (should you have any) will shake their fists in impotent rage. As long as you're not hung up on tangibility, it's a relationship with everything you could want or need.

Fatties, uggos and the horribly disfigured are encouraged to apply! I don't care what you look like because I'll never see what you look like. Tell me you're the most beautiful woman in the world if it makes you feel better, just don't send pictures.

Exclusivity is not part of the deal. I intend to date other women during our association and it would be hypocritical of me to deny you the same freedom. Go out clubbing every Saturday night and sleep with a different guy each time if you like, just remember to get the cookies in the mail by 5:00 because the post office isn't open on Sundays. I have no allergies, so feel free to extend your experimentation to recipes and ingredients as well.

I live in Los Angeles but am posting this in Dallas because it's close enough to keep shipping charges down but far enough away that you'll never be tempted to track me down in real life. Also, going by the maxim "everything is bigger in Texas" I'm hoping there will be enough baked goods to share with friends.

Good luck and I hope to hear from you lovely ladies soon!

Morally Bankrupt - m4w

I saw you in my bankruptcy class. I was so distracted by you that I could barely pay attention to the riveting lecture about the history of bankruptcy law. I imagine that you are a creditor and I am a bankrupt and I will have to work off my debt for you or risk debtor's prison. You can have whatever you want; no state law exemptions. I want you to declare bankruptcy all over me.

I am sick of ending my nights pro se. I promise if you entertain my claim that you will have a huge judgment entered in your favor over and over again. We can even violate the Model Rule of Professional Responsibility and engage in a 108(j).

My interests include hilarious law-based puns; and mocking others. If you think we are a match, let's grab a drink after class. I know it's a weeknight but my parents let me stay out as late as I want to as long as I call by 11pm to check in with them.

P.S. I am neither the ginger nor the weird guy next to you.

Brain Surgery Intern

Need a Brain Surgery Intern ASAP! I have just been diagnosed with a brain tumor and the doctor says that I only have 3 months to live unless I have brain surgery. This is an unpaid operation, but you will receive credit and snacks while you are operating. This is a good way to build up your resume by networking with others who need free surgery. If you do a good job, and I live, this may lead to future PAID surgeries!

If you have your own surgery tools and anesthesia, that is a plus and you move to the front of the line.

Please respond with a link to all of the operations that you have performed, transcripts from the universities that you attended, and a copy of your MCAT scores.

Please only respond if you are SERIOUS. You must be a team player and have your own car.

Wanted: Pony

My kid is having a birthday coming up soon, and there'll be a lot of children around, so I figured I'd better get a pony.

I suspect there'll be what - about 20 or 30 kids, and I thought a pony would fit the bill nicely.

Please let me know what you feed your pony - hay, grain, whatever, so I know what to expect.

Also, let me know if the pony gets a lot of exercise, or if it just kinda hangs out all day, so I know what kind of shape it is in.

If you do have a pony you could sell, please contact me, and then immediately start putting barbeque sauce in it's bedding or add some Lawry's to it's salt lick - I like to marinade it early and long, so that the flavor is at it's peak by the time I take possession.

If things work out well, I may contact you for other parties I'll be involved in; they kids can't tell the difference between ponies and burger, and usually they're a lot cheaper.

The times they are a changin'

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The Star irks me again

Chinatown grocer accused of assault 'a victim': Kenney

In an attempt to curry favour with local Chinese business owners, Kenney vowed to raise with MPs the community's plea to reform a section of the Criminal Code that prevents retailers from apprehending shoplifters outside their store's premises

Oh come on. "IN AN ATTEMPT TO CURRY FAVOUR"??

I know as a publication you're inclined to be critical of the Conservatives, but there are editorial liberties, then there are sentences-that-become-fodder-for-those-Conservatives-and-their-supporters-to-prove-your-publication-is-not-credible.

Also, I am curious if in this case, either lawyer is going to whip out a copy of The Dark Knight in order to argue the myriad angles of citizen vigilanteism?

Asian people love sales

Before leaving for vacation, my dad bought (and I'm not exaggerating here) nine boxes of Haagen-Dazs popsicles. Naturally, I'm not obligated to eat them all or anything.

But I'll be damned if I'm not trying. If one box is left when they get back I'd be surprised. Someone needs to stop me, I'm out of control.

I also have five boxes of Honey Bunches of Oats in the pantry. Damn these sales.

Elections shmelections

In recent weeks, U.S. President Barack Obama's fading aura of invulnerability has been as much a story as health care reform itself. People had begun to doubt his lauded communications skills, his affable charm and ability to galvanize public opinion.

What you can't ever deny though is this: the dude can give a speech.

Watching him work his on-camera magic, one portion of the night caught my attention in particular -- and it wasn't the part where he shouted out our Universal Health Care.

Check this, from towards the end of his speech last night:

...when facts and reason are thrown overboard and only timidity passes for wisdom, and we can no longer even engage in a civil conversation with each other over the things that truly matter -- at that point we don't merely lose our capacity to solve big challenges. We lose something essential about ourselves.

Obviously, this was directed at his partisan critics, but has anyone recently so aptly described the state of Canadian politics?

Here at home, we have been so mired in mediocrity that politics has completely lost relevance in daily life. Nobody cares about Ottawa anymore because Ottawa doesn't care about them. It is a self-enclosed universe, further alienating its members from casual society day-by-fucking-day.

Is it any wonder Canadians are deciding not to vote in record numbers? What are they voting for? Following our government is like watching those episodes of Morty Seinfeld running for president of the Boca Raton condominium board. All we need is a scandal over tip calculators.

The current levels of disenfranchisement among intelligent citizens in this country is not only a shame, but a cancer eating away at the potential for growth, innovation, creativity and leadership Canada has to offer the world.

From the looks of it, there will be another election this fall. I'm not pleased, but I'm not averse to this.

All I hope is that somebody, somewhere, runs on a vision of what Canada should be -- and why she or he is the person to make that vision come true. Isn't that what politics is about? Selling us on happiness?

I beg each of us to seek ways to affect change towards this direction. Get involved, volunteer, hell -- run for a seat. Anything to inject new blood and fresh ideas into this sham we call our government.

Canada's a great place, but right now it's like an office where management is all incompetent and nobody knows how they got their jobs. Lets take this bitch over.

I hate Failblog

HOWEVER,

I love: Totally Looks Like

I cannot believe I did not think of this blog idea first. Dammit all, it's so up my alley. I love shit that looks like other shit!

Diane Simmons from Family Guy Totally Looks Like Dana Scully from X-Files

see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

American Teen Totally Looks Like The Breakfast Club


see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

Posh Spice totally looks like Falcor from The Neverending Story


see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

Harriet Tubman Totally Looks Like E.T.


see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

Old Tree Totally Looks Like Clint Eastwood

see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

Wouldn't a putter be more effective?

I recently watched Funny Games, a thriller/horror film directed by artsy fartsy Michael Haneke. It was sufficiently graphic, bordering on tortureporn territory, but the one thing I took away from it was: you should always have a plan.
Meaning, if someone broke into my house, what would my immediate course of action be? Where would I run? Where are my weapons for self-defence?

The characters in the movie were at their cottage, so obviously that's a bit of a disadvantage right away. But for the better part of an hour, they were essentially held hostage by a guy wielding a golf driver.

I mean, come on. I'd like to think with the variety of household items at my disposal (ironically this does not include any golf clubs), I would most certainly be able to fight off an attacker armed with only sports equipment. I do have baseball bats. I'm pretty sure bats beats golfclubs in a fight.

I'd also have a mental triage of sorts in place, knowing at what point it's better to run away for help at the risk of the remaining hostages, or stay and fight thus risking all of us PLUS not capturing the criminals.

The Boyscouts had it right: be prepared.

Good thing there are so many large windows to climb out of in my basement...

Hello reality

So for better or for worse I've basically decided to completely stop looking for a journalism job. Simply put, unless I can get hooked up, it just doesn't seem like anyone wants to take a flyer on a candidate who spent most of his time doing PR.

That said, I'm just going to look for a job that will pay me well, and I'm going to do as much freelancing on the side as humanly possible until maybe one day I end up somewhere I'd rather be working. It just isn't feasible to survive as solely a freelancer right now... you need money to build your portfolio and live a life at the same time.

These are very mutually exclusive options.

Who knows, maybe I'll really enjoy crushing people on the corporate ladder.

Everyone always figures me for a cynic, but I guess deep down I'm actually a hopeless romantic.

Am I like an inside out clown? Is that what's going on here?

Dear friends, bored at work.

Me and some gallant colleagues have decided to pool our writing resources.

www.theashcan.com

Anything remotely intelligent will be posted there, but I will be maintaining this faithful site as well, for more personal posts such as how lonely I am at night and what drinks I mix before bedtime.

The future is internet promiscuity. If you can't beat'em, join'em.

I live by the ocean

Home.

Easing my way back into things as I have a tickle in my throat, but it was worth it. Iceland was amazing, more details to come soon. For today, I offer only the best faux road rage video on YouTube.

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Simon is out of the internet for the next two weeks, celebrating good friends in Calgary and searching for his soulmate in Iceland. He will return on August 16th. All work-boredom related incidents will be attended to upon his return, or if urgent, please visit www.fmylife.com for your daily fix of asinine humour.

On a completely unrelated note, I used a loofa for the first time yesterday. It wasn't actually a puffy one though, it was more like a soft, mini burlap sack. At first it just felt like I was scratching myself, but I must say afterwards my skin felt much softer and healthier. Perhaps there is something to this exfoliation business I keep hearing about...

On that note, I bid you Bjork.