Not My Dog.Hmmm... Let me think about that.
Not My Blog

Not My Archives

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Monday, March 31, 2008
The only problem with the performance of Mozart's Requiem that I attended on Friday was not the fault, really, of the performers. One of the leading Alberta Ballet dancers, Hattoich-something, sorry, can't remember--was dressed as a statue of Mozart, standing on a platform. Actually, he was standing in skiboots that were attached to a trampoline, and was able to brandish his entire body back and forth and side to side as he mimed conducting the orchestra, while other dancers whirled around him. Problem: the skiboots/trampoline bit is something I saw years ago, performed by Guy LaWhat'sHisHead, founder of Cirque de Soleil, as he played a mad conductor. The ambitious stage layout had the chorus standing in a grid of giant boxes that formed the backdrop to the dancers, each box lighted separately. The soloists were all in one box in the top centre, in sitting and standing poses. I thought it was visually commanding, although I'm not convinced it served the music very well. Anyway! Singing was lovely and dancing was astounding--so I'm very glad I saw it. No loony magnet for me this night--a seatmate with a cold, but that was a snap to ignore.
A few more of My Favourite Things: Chickpeas with minced chilli, ginger, tomatoes, onions and lemon...Pasta with tomatoes, avocado, and minced fresh oregano.
You say "correlation illusion," I say "wah-wah-wah." The last four times I have gone to Vinnie and Schmuke's place to watch the Calgary Flames game, the Flames start off vigorously only to sputter and die. As I am an unrepentant Oilers fan, this could be my fault--sorry, IS my fault. IS. You laugh, but religions have started over less evidence than this.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Not-so-succinctly recapped, a week:
  • Dinner plans made last Thursday for last Saturday, but changed between phone call and my arrival, without my knowledge. We launch a new fusion cuisine: Italo-Indian, or Parmigiano Raj-iano, if you'd prefer. Meaning spaghetz, meatballs, butter chicken and spicy-sour chickpeas. Unusual but enjoyable.
  • Good Friday: favourite meal (breakfast) in cool diner with Seestors Ironside, preceded by a naughty CKUA deejay playing Kinky Friedman's classic, "They Don't Make Jews like Jesus Anymore." Both made my day.
  • In a post-meeting chat on Sunday, topic turns to romance/getting one's greens, why and why not? I fess up to the lifetime nonachievement award, trying not to feel sorry for self. "Oh, you know," says one highly educated participant, "I'm going to a singles dance this week, so you should come with me." Right. Because I've never thought of doing such, or have never done such, before. Point: missed by a mile. Only three more meetings to go on this project, tanks Gott.
  • Note to highly educated female participant: ever considered that your deprecation of most things male is sexist? Not to mention defeatist--it's the recourse of the conquered to denigrate superiors. So if you think you're better by virtue of your XX chromosomes, act like it--don't resort to sexism just because some men are sexist.
  • T-shirt and shorts Sunday afternoon, parka and snowboots Monday morning. In Alberta, springtime means you get the most value out of the majority of your wardrobe.
  • Kulchah in Kowtown! Friday night I am going, again with Seestors Ironside, to the Alberta Ballet/Calgary Philharmonic coproduction of Mozart's Requiem. Hope I don't well up too frequently. The real CPO Chorus will be performing (the choir to which we CPO Revoice participants aspire), so I'm looking forward to it very much. As soon as I bought the tickets, I found out that the Kids in the Hall are also coming to must scrounge for spare change around condo for ticket....wah.

Thursday, March 20, 2008
Life's delicious ironies... A couple of weeks ago I took my pal Kreg out to a lacrosse game at the Saddledome, where we enjoyed the hospitality of a viewing suite, courtesy one of Karo's best clients. Free drinks (including the oh-so-important diet fizz) and pub grub, and unobstructed views of the field. I've written before about the hilarity of professional lacrosse: the constant deafening rock music, the prostitutional cheerleaders, the violent on-field havoc between the Calgary Roughnecks and their opponents, and so on. The evening's delicious irony was this: what two songs were used to get the crowd ripped from the get-go? "Saturday Night's All Right for Fighting," and "We Will Rock You." Macho overload ignited by the two most famous gay musicians of our time, Elton John and Freddie Mercury.
Not ironic, just silly: Fan garb for the Calgary Roughnecks includes a hardhat with a decal of Derrick, the burly oil-rig mascot. I nearly hooted up a lung whenever I'd see a young guy wearing one of them backwards. Backwards hardhats! Because that's cool! [There's a very similar moment in the Woody Allen movie, "Small Time Crooks," where one of the tunnelling bank robbers insists on wearing his headlamp back to front, "because it's cooler that way."]
Friday, March 14, 2008
A Brief Introduction to Ad Copy Translating: One of those animated ads on a news site done caught my eye. Then it made me honk up a lung. I present the same to you, complete with copywriter translations:
Dirty English cologne: Presenting the scent of irresistible bad boys all over the world. [A Lie, unless it smells of pot, beer/hooch, cigarettes, armpits, gasoline and gunpowder.]

A passion-inducing mix [Let us not forget that the original meaning of "passion" is "suffering"] of peppered mandarin [B.O.], blue cypress [a tree? A TREE? Must be scent-speak for "b.o."], black leather [B.O.], ebony wood [Oh, a hard wood tree. I get it.] and amber musk.[B.O.]

Live hard, live fast, live loud, live now. [Might as well live stinky, too.] It’s all DIRTY ENGLISH. [Sliding scale of dirtiness here: to some of us it can mean using two hyphens instead of a proper Em dash, goddammit, check your special characters once in a while.]

Juicy Couture Fragrance for men [B. FREAKIN' O.]

Thursday, March 13, 2008
What the Bad Kids Did: No surprise, really--Calgarians are Internet-savvy and keep up with the latest trends. No matter how freaking stupid and ignorant they are:

Update: the Karo Smartie survived its tipping with a couple of scratches. Here's hoping the geniuses who pushed it over keep up with the hard drinking and expire of hobnailed livers. Or at least get a frickin' clue.
I Yam What I Yam:
CONCEPTUALIZER • Forms quick connections,defines problems and conceptualizes new ideas, opportunities and benefits. • Distills seemingly unrelated observations into an integrated explanation. • Doesn’t like proceeding until situation is fully understood. • Dislikes being told “how to do it.” • Wants the theory to be sound and precise. • Reluctant to move ahead until problem is well defined. • Prefers not to have to prioritize among good and not fully understood alternatives. • High sensitivity and appreciation of ideas, less concern with moving to action. • Likes to visualize the “big picture.”
So...we're doing a bit of online profiling at the workplace right now. I never know how seriously to take these results, since I can't help trying to choose what I think is the best answer when I'm entering my responses, so the results aren't completely natural. I remember taking the Meyers-Briggs profile back in the mid-1990s, and being told that "there was no way anyone could cheat." Hah, a challenge! That particular time I came up as a charming extrovert (I think it was ENTP). HA HA.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
A Goodish Deed in the Digital Age. I guess I'm trying not to pat myself on the back for doing something considerate for a stranger. During yesterday morning's more-groggy-than-usual mutt walk (thank you, Daylight Savings), I found a Blackberry. I work with a few berryheads, so I know how stressful it can be to have one go AWOL. Anyhow, I phoned the wireless company where the BB was registered, and spent the usual quarter hour on hold. What I wanted to do was to have the phone co. pass my phone no. along to the BB owner, who could call me and arrange to get his toy back. Nope, it's against regulations--and don't even think about asking us to give you the BB owner's landline number. "But I'm really fine with giving you my cellphone number," I explained. Well, you know: I guess I could be a straight-razor slasher type, using a hapless technoStooge to set up a massacre. They weren't going to take my cell number, at any rate. Fine, I'll drop it off at one of the company's outlets--except that the one closest to me, so convenient on the drive home, is newly closed, although it still has portable signs outside advertising its specials. SIGH. Upshot: dropped the bastard at another outlet at noon today, dealing with a very efficient agent who's done this sort of thing many times. No pats on the back for me, you know, because if I weren't so squeamish about cold-calling strangers, I could have accessed the berry's phone list, phoned one of the owner's contacts, and arranged a return that way. Heh.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
A new one. Because I occasionally leave my toenails alone for a little too long, I am no stranger to toejam. After one particularly great hike in the Rockies with old Fearless, I managed to avulse my right big toenail while slaloming a scree slope in my hiking "boats." The nail didn't fall off immediately, but took a few multicoloured weeks to detach itself, and about a half-year to grow back completely.
This time I have outdone myself: I have, in medical terms, ablated the proximal or lunate end of my left big toenail, while leaving the rest of the nail and nailbed intact. Somehow I jammed that toe and separated the bottom of the nail--you know, the bit under the cuticle. I thought I had a bit of paronychia when my toe started throbbing, but the pain slowly subsided and the swelling didn't. Not paronychia, then.
Blah blah blah...I think the grow-out of this one is going to be cool to watch, anyhow. But then I am fascinated by small and off-putting acts of body self-repair.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Surprise, no surprise. "Eastern Promises" by David Cronenberg. I'm a Cronenberg completist, so I thought I knew pretty much what I'd be getting. Wrong, so very wrong. I was quite surprised by one or two moments in this movie, but pleased to see that Cronenberg doesn't bowdlerize any violence. And old Viggo would win the "Bravest Fight Sequence" Oscar, if there were one.
Finally, finally saw "The Last King of Scotland." Forest Whitaker definitely deserved his Oscar. No surprise, really.
"Hairspray: The Musical." Cute, fun. But not even close to as much fun as the 1988 original. Watching John Travolta dance and sing with Christopher Walken was hugely enjoyable, though. And John Waters's walk-on was a hoot.