Heavy Traffic

For the first 5 months of my blog's existence it's readership hovered at around 6 hits a day. I didn't even tell my friends about it at first, but they found it. It was nice to have them check in to see what I was up to and to see how I was doing.

On Wednesday, my counter broke 1000, and it now sits at 1181.

This is due in large part to the link that Chris placed on his sidebar. Suddenly I began receiving visitors from unusual places. It was nice to have a few more hits from across Canada and the US. I couldn't believe that anyone from Australia, New York, Spain, Chile or the UK could glean anything from reading about my socks, my mother's car accident, my getting frostbite while coaching girl's softball or any of the other mundane events of my day.

Then Chris linked directly to my page. Chris had always marvelled at the thump that my wallet made when I put it on a table, and the way I always leaned to one side when sitting.

So the number of visitors over the past couple of days has been at around 75 a day. I hope that they laughed at the ridiculous contents of my wallet and I hope that they decide to come back from time to time. Though I know that 75 hits a day for a blog like mine is unreasonable to expect, but it is, I must admit, nice to know that there are strangers out there reading my entries. Nice, and slightly unsettling.

Concert Review of the Week: Michael Penn

Michael Penn is a hard musician to characterize. I suppose it isn't easy being brother to Sean and Chris; though some might say it's hard being brother to anyone.

My friend Andrew listened to Michael Penn's Free For All when he was my roommate in 1994. I recall always being rather unimpressed with the music. It seemed too plain and sombre. Maybe it wasn't the music but the attempts at synchronized guitar playing that I didn't care for. At the time, I thought Andrew either had amazingly mature and refined musical tastes, or was a 37-year-old-9:30am-beer-drinking-bald-father-of-three stuck in the body of a 16 year old.

Over the years, I managed to listen to all of Michael Penn's records thinking that I should like the music, and I always enjoyed listening to it, but it never grabbed on to me. It was forgettable, but like visiting your old elementary school, it seemed so familiar and likeable.

At a mere $15, I figured I'd check out Penn at The Rivoli tonight. The small back room had tables and it was nice to not have the sore knees and lower back cramps that usually accompany a concert: very civilized.

The opening act was Rosie Thomas with whom I was not familiar (the Allmusic write up is interesting, and perhaps I should have been familiar with her work). The set was short, but sweet, though, I sensed, a little nervous. At the end of every song she said "thank you very much" in a voice that seemed incongruent with her singing voice and she began clapping. It seemed that she was afraid that there would be silence after her song and she felt that she needed to prompt the audience.

Michael Penn came on shortly afterwards and got right down to business. Playing songs from his new album, Mr. Hollywood, Jr. 1947 and many of his old favourites.

I wasn't sure what to expect from him. His songs always have a strange shroud around them and I had a picture in my mind that Penn might have the same fire as his brothers. His first words were: "I don't mind pictures but flashes make me play in the wrong time signature."

The concert itself was all around fantastic. Penn's voice was bang on and the acoustic set (with piano accompaniment) was lovely. He not only showed his passion by bad mouthing the Bush administration, but his humility; at one point stopping mid song and asking the audience for the line. Penn has a great sense of humour marvelling at one point how odd it was that he had broken two picks in one night.

Finally a musician who says it like it is: "encores are retarded". I have always believed that the encore song and dance that pervades concert going is a joke. Some audiences who don't deserve an encore (or perhaps don't even want one) get one, and audiences who deserve an encore don't get it. After "finishing" his set Penn stated, "this is when I go in the back, you clap and cheer for a while, and then I come back out. I'm just going to sit here and play a few more, okay?"

Taking requests* from the audience and showing us what seemed the true person was so refreshing. There was no bravado, no posturing. Penn was his calm, relaxed self, and, as concerts go, that was a nice change. Penn plays a second night tomorrow (Thursday, September 29, 2005) at The Rivoli. I very highly recommend catching it.

______________
* Jon and I laughed and laughed at the request (which was denied, sadly) for "Footdown". By far one of the weirdest of his songs, and the Chris Penn backup singing is hilarious.

Baby Pictures

I've recently returned from the hospital where I met Kerstin Alexis. At the risk of gushing, I must admit that the experience was quite beyond my expectations.

It was so very odd to see my Mom and Dad holding their granddaughter, and to see my sister and her husband holding this baby. The baby for which they are responsible. When I held her, my arms immediately started to hurt and she puckered up with a cranky face and started crying. Very odd holding my newborn niece.

So now I begin my reign as best uncle ever, and can begin tutoring her in the ways of righteousness, exposing her to way cooler music than her parents listen to, sharing with her life-changing novels and ground-breaking films.

In short, spoiling her rotten.

Kerstin Alexis

My niece was born at 11:32am today. She was 7 pounds 3 ounces and 54 cm long.

Kerstin Alexis has ten fingers and ten toes. My sister is doing well and is safe and sound.

My parents and I are headed to the hospital to visit. I'll post a picture later.

My Current Wallet: February 2002 - September 2005

I have a wallet problem. Everyone who knows me knows it.

I've decided to make a big change in my life today. My wallet that can be seen bulging out underneath jackets and causing my pants to wear in the contours of the wallet is being disassembled and destroyed.

Here are its current contents in no particluar order:

Fossil Wallet:

• Scotiabank VISA Card
• Sears Credit Card
• Home Depot Credit Card
• Hudson's Bay Company Credit Card
• CIBC Calssic VISA Card
• Citi MasterCard Card
• 1 old $20 CDN bill
• 1 new $20 CDN bill
• Saskatchewan Health Card
• Expired Ontario Health Card
• The Pita Pit Pit Crew Card (2 of 10 stamps)
• Rogers Video Card
• Perth and Smiths Falls District Hospital Card
• Social Insurance Number Card
• Saskatchewan Driver's Licence (Photo ID and Insurance Certificate)
• Humboldt Golf Club coupon for 9 holes free with telephone numbers written on the back of: "Davo," "Brian," "Mom's Cell," "Cottage," "Selley"
• Business Card of "Scott Hartin" of "Sun and Ski" with the telephone numbers written on the back of: "Kent," "Cell"
• Business Card from Sutra
• Lake Lenore CO-OP Grocery free movie rental coupon
• Admit One Coupon Famous Players Cinemas
• Esso Extra Card
• Indigo iRewards Card
• Sasktel Calling Card (expired)
• HBC Rewards Card
• Hema-Quebec Blood Donation Card (I've not lived in Quebec since June 2003)
• McGill Student ID Card (expired August 2003)
• AMC MovieWatcher Card
• ING Direct Card
  
• Macs Milk Phone Card
• Blockbuster Rewards Card
• Scotiabank Debit Card in Protective Sleeve
• Post It Note: "Don Taylor June 12 @ 8:10"
• Jostens Post It Note: the telephone number and address of a Mr. Kelly Langill
• MovieWatcher Receipt dated July 26, 2005: "Points today: 4, Points to date: 18"
• Interac Direct Payment Transaction Record from AMC Theatres dated July 26, 2005
• Saskatoon Public Library Card
• Place Milton Breakfast Card (9 of 11 stamps) with the telephone numbers on the back of: "Todd"
• Petcetera Plus Card
• Business Card of a Mr. Colin Sclater from Scotiabank with the telephone numbers on the back of: "Todd," "Jon," "Ian," "Shannon @ Work"
• "Consent Under the Human Tissue Act" Signature Card
• "The Unrelated Bone Marow Donor Registry" Card: HLA: A1, A31; B56, B60
• Business Card of a Mr. Sean C. Jordan of "The Grandstand" with the telephone numbers on the back of: "Jon in MTL," "Curtis," "Shannon," "Debbie Ferland," "Nicola's Cell"
• University of Saskatchewan Copy Card
• IGA Stamp Card (5 of 10 stamps; expired April 23, 2005)
• Wapiti Regional Library Card
• Safeway Club Card
• Mr. Sub VIP Card
• Subway Sub Club Customer Appreciation Card (8 of 8 stamps)
• Subway Sub Club Customer Appreciation Card (1 of 8 stamps)
• Business Card of a Mr. Peter Christensen "Traduction du francais a l'anglais"
• Toyota Roadside Assitance Card
• Best Western Gold Club Crown International Card
• Business Card of a Mr. Lorne Gordon of Realty Exectives with "Ken Koshgarian recommended by Ron Thomsen" written on the back
• Concert Ticket Stub dated September 12, 2003: Ron Sexsmith with special guests Smokekiller and MadViolet
  
• Movie Gallery Card
  
• Movie Ticket Stub dated July 26, 2005: "Land of the Dead"
• Air Miles Card
  
• Toronto Public Library Card

That's it. No additions, no subtractions. Who walks around with that much stuff on their ass?

10 Years After

Yesterday was my 10 year high school reunion dinner. I went to a private school in Toronto and therefore the event at it's core is nothing more than maintenance of a network, and fundraising.

I was made especially uncomfortable by the fact that I had been rejected from a teaching job there the day before. That and the fact that I knew very few would remember me, or would even care that I was there.

The first person I spoke to was the head of the association (jargon for: head money suck). The conversation went like this:

HoA: (looking intently at my name tag) Mark, how are you? What are you up to these days?
Me: Well, I'm fine, things are continuing as always. I'm a teacher. I just moved back to Toronto from Saskatchewan at the beginning of July.
HoA: A teacher? That's great. Where?
Me: Nowhere. I'm still looking for that perfect job.
HoA: Really? Well we're always looking for great teachers. Send me an email and I'll put you in touch with some of the people that you'll need to see about a teaching job here. Send me an email. You're on our email list, right?
Me: Oh yes, I'm on the list.
HoA: Well send me an email and I'll put you in touch with our people.
Me: (slight pause, while considering my options) That would be great. Thank you.

My tongue now sore from biting, I proceeded to the bar. My friend Mark can verify that above story as true, and, in fact, I am quite surprised and proud of my restraint.

Things hadn't changed a bit at the school. The groups were exactly the same. All the people that I didn't want to see were loud and obnoxious at their table, and the kind fun-loving people sat at another couple of tables. When it was time for class pictures, I did manage to notice that the Asians (at whose table I was sitting) all managed to not be asked to join in. I could didn't care one bit about not being in a picture, but the half a dozen Canadians with Asian ancestry (all who speak perfect English; some are unilingual Anglophones) were notably missing from the picture. A good example of the mentality of the evening.

Now I'm not trying to make any grave statement about anything here, but the whole event just kind of made me sad. I chatted with my friends, and said hello to the others who cared enough to listen to what I had to say. At the end of the evening, the four classmates whom I see regularly went to a bar. The five of us had some drinks and laughs, but there wasn't anything unusual about it; it could have happened any other night of the year, since I see these guys all the time.

Things continue on as they always do. The loudmouths and still loudmouths, the quiet are still ignored, and I'd still rather have six great friends rather than hundreds of fake acquaintances.

At the end of our evening at the bar, I bumped into an old housemaster, who had heard that I was returning to the school to teach. I set him straight and he was really nice about it. I realized that it might not be the right job for me and that something better will come along, but I really had my hopes built up and to have them ripped away is going to take sometime to repair.

Thanks But No Thanks

I got the call today at 4:43 pm. I was in the car after a fruitless jaunt around the city. I knew after about 10 seconds that it wasn't my job. There was too much chitchat and trying to make me feel like I was an old friend.

My job went to someone else. I'm angry sure, but moreso it's the sting of rejection that hurts. This is the reason why I didn't ask girls out in high school.

I'm still a bit stunned that now I have to spend Monday morning on Workopolis and face writing cover letters stage again. I'm going to rationalize this by trying to convince myself that they wouldn't want anyone who works as hard as me on their staff because they wouldn't want everyone else to look bad. I'm going to say that some window has opened up for me somewhere. I'm going to say that I'll be making lemonade.

For now, I'm mixing that lemonade with lots of hard liquor.

Seu Jorge

Last night Jon and I headed out to the Lula Lounge to see Seu Jorge in concert.

The Lula Lounge has one of the oddest decors that I have seen in all my concert going. The venue was well lit throughout the whole concert, and the pastel walls made the room feel warm and comfortable; a nice change from the black everything in most places. It's a restaurant at it's core and if you're willing to pay for an expensive dinner, you can have a seat for the concert. The problem, last night would have been that after having spent $75 for a meal and concert, there would have been three dozen people standing in front of you.

I didn't have a seat, but I didn't see anything either. The stage is not very elevated and though I'm not too short, it did seem that everyone in front of me was over 6 foot 2. I saw a lot of very disappointed people who heard the music and only saw the backs of the men standing in front of them.

Seu Jorge is most well known (certainly to Anglos like me) for his performance in Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Though singing David Bowie tunes in Portuguese (he's actually just making up lyrics (paragraph four), and not translating them) from the sounds of it, Jorge doesn't know much about Bowie, and doesn't care to. His set lacked any Bowie songs, which, in many ways, pleased me.

I took a dance class way back when and we learned Jive, Foxtrot, and the Cha Cha before I realized how uncomfortable it made me. Sadly, I don't know the Salsa, and Seu Jorge's music is Salsa-pop. The crowd knew what was up. There were people dancing and others jumping up on stage. There were people singing, clapping in rhythm and shouting out requests. It wasn't a typical Toronto show where people stand around with their arms crossed with a "pfft, this is cool" look on their face.

So despite not understanding a word of the language, not being familiar with the genre, and not being able to dance, it was still a very good show. It wasn't the best show of my life, but with the invention of the VCR I was able to see something new and still fill my Thursday-night-TV addiction.

Uncle Nugget

My sister is eight and a half months pregnant. She went to see her doctor this morning only to discover that her baby is upsidedown and will be delivered through C-Section.

I will become an uncle on Tuesday, September 27, 2005.

Sigur Ros and the Great Allergy Drive

I've had a tiring couple of days after a tiring weekend.

Monday saw a hard day of work preparing for my interview. I hardly consider reading and writing work, but I managed to avoid playing NHL '06 and that's no small feat these days.

After my interview, I headed over to Massey Hall and the Sigur Ros concert. Arriving late, of course, we missed most of the opening band, Amina. From the crowd reaction and from what I did manage to see, it looked like we missed a good one. During the intermission, Chris was shocked when the queue for merchandise was longer than the queue for the bar. Probably another indication that we missed a good opener.

What can I say about the concert itself? I knew that it was going to be good, and I wasn't disappointed. It was a good mix of older songs from ( ) and Agaetis Byrjun. The highlight for me was Glosoli and I'm not ashamed to say that I've been playing it since and bouncing around my apartment in an unexplainable happy dance. Sigur Ros has the wall of sound down to a science and as tracks go, there isn't much better in my book than Glosoli. A beautiful song that makes me wish that I was a drummer.

Tuesday saw me drive to Ottawa. Seventy-five dollars worth of gas later, I am no futher ahead than I started. I was tested for 40 different commen allergens; all negative. She then gave me a heavier dose of 10 others and again all negative. The problem is that I still don't know what making me stuffy and sneezy, but at least I can continue sleeping with my feather duvet and pillows, and my cat, Harpo, can make his triumphant return. Yesterday, I managed to drive over 900 km, set off my parents house alarm, pick a giant bin of tomatoes, visit 4 Canadian Tire stores, and pass 7 (yes 7) OPP cruisers and not get a ticket.

No word yet about the job. My fingers and toes are still crossed. It's all the more important that I get this job since I received my rejection lettter from the Toronto District School Board today. I'm a little ticked off, but it's all beyond my control. My references fell through because the head of my old school board is on emergency sick leave. He either had a heart attack or has Cancer (it's something big) and isn't back at work this Fall. The secretary won't give him messages and I will never give the home number of a man recovering from Cancer to a school board. So they rejected me. I have no problems with that. I'm calling their bluff and I'm going "all in" on the private school gig.

Other than that things are going well. I fixed my sister's deck today, powerwashed the bird poop from the alley beside my apartment, ordered bird spikes for the alley (finally), won the Stanley Cup with the New York Islanders with only moderate chesting, played some poker with friends and managed to drink a whole bottle of Roussillon and win $20 on the night.

I'm hoping that the call comes tomorrow to wrap up an already decent week. Tomorrow I'm heading with Jon to the Lula Lounge to see Seu Jorge(in Portugese) in concert.

Second Interview Over

I had my second interview today. I prepared all day including listening to the auditape of Sophie's World, which, despite the desperate nature of listening to an audiotape before an interview, is actually really decent.

The interview went well. If I look back on it in hindsight I won't hum and haw about what might have been. I was confident, charming, sincere, ambitious, caring, and I think intelligent-sounding. I answered the questions clearly and with passion, and was brutally honest when appropriate. I didn't have any "why in the hell did I say that?" moments either.

So I put my best foot forward. I was able to fix up my weak answers from round one and I think that I did that well. I won't say I nailed it, but I came as close as I could. They're going to let me know more about the job later on in the week.

I'm hoping that come 10-year reunion on Saturday, I have something to celebrate or else things might be a little on the awkward side.

Stage Two

The word back about the interview was waiting for me when I checked my email this morning. They want to see me for a second interview on Monday.

Needless to say I'm pretty happy about it and am glad that I've been given the chance to repair some of my weaker responses. I knew that I didn't answer every question perfectly, but this gives me a second chance to answer a couple of specific questions.

My two biggest challenges with this job will be: making the complex theories and ideas relevant to teens; and, establishing a presence in the classroom so that the students will respond with confidence.

Some of the thoughts and ideas in the course are very abstract. How can I make them important to a teenager who has other more important things on his mind like girls, alcohol, and torturing his new teacher? How also can I relate modern pop culture issues to legitimate academic thought?

The fact that I went to this school gives me a great insight into just how ruthless and cruel its students can be to a hapless teacher. It's really important that I don't let them push me around. The ToK course, from my primary research, is seen as a bit of a joke, and managing the classroom can be all the more difficult if students are coming in with a poor mindset. When you plop into a classroom 20 of the extremely wealthy all of whom have spent 16 years of their life perfecting the art of not getting caught and are smart enough to play the system I can only imagine the challenges that might face me. Hell, would I want done to me all that I did to my high school teachers?

So, I'll spend the day preparing decent answers to these challenges, and cross my fingers that I can take care of business on Monday. Any suggestions?

Albert Maysles

Yesterday Jon gave me a free ticket to the Toronto Film Festival's Mavericks Series featuring Albert Maysles.

Maysles, who along with his brother David, were among the leaders of Cinema Verite in the 1960s. He is credited with the invention of "direct cinema".

Notable titles include: Gimme Shelter, Muhammad & Larry, Grey Gardens, and the documentationof installation pieces by Christo. He also has a documentary on The Life Aquatic DVD.

The event screened two Mayles films the highlight being the candid and hilarious, Meet Marlon Brando. The Maysles brothers filmed Marlon Brando during a press junket. Brando, who seemed to spend most of his time hitting on the female interviewers, also presented his take-no-shit attitude and managed to give the Hollywood a solid kick in the ass. Here's one of many examples:

Interviewer: "It's a wonderful film, Mr. Brando."
Brando: "You've seen it?"
Interviewer: (now bewildered) "Uh, no."
Brando: "Well how do you know?"

The rights are owned by the Brando Estate, so the availablility of the print may be difficult. Jon had never seen it and had only heard of it. In my experience, if Jon hasn't seen a movie it's likely that it isn't in DVD or video release. I highly recommend watching it if you can catch it at a university screening or on an obscure DVD.

The screening was followed by a Q & A session moderated by Robert Koehler. The 78 year old director answered questions clearly and with a ton of great backstory. He actually answered questions and digressions always looped back to his point and original question. It was fascinating to watch and I was lucky to be one of the hundred or so people who thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

DCFC vs. Coldplay

Andrew badmouthed Coldplay on his blog, with a lot of comments that continued the debate.

I have no problem with Coldplay despite their, at times, simplistic lyrics. I stand by my decision to purchase the album, and I listen to it regularly. Perhaps, a guilty pleasure, but a pleasure nonetheless.

In the same vein, I've been listening to the new Death Cab For Cutie album, Plans. I can't make out whether I would categorize DCFC in the same group as Andrew's Coldplay, but I wonder if the inner music geek in me might also consider this album in the same "guilty pleasures" category.

There are a ton of reviews out there. The Onion and Pitchfork have their say, and I tend to agree that this album isn't as ambitious as previous work.

So, I set forth a challenge to you. If 102.1 The Edge can have their Interesting Survey I'll have my DCFC vs. Coldplay battle.

Regardles of the outcome, does anyone want to give me 2 tickets to their Toronto gig?

Interview Is Over

And now I wait.

There's nothing more strange than going into your old school's staff room. The room that was always forbidden; the room that you knew you'd be in the most serious trouble just for entering. The room with the fanciest chairs, the cleanest carpet, the most expensive paintings, the tastiest water (which we always assumed was vodka).

I went into that room today. For a brief moment, I had stepped into that most hallowed of places. Actually, there is one thing more strange than entering your old school's staff room: seeing your old teachers in there.

In a brief glance around the room, I recognized about half a dozen faces that I hadn't even thought of in 10 years. How weird would that be if I was allowed to be with them in there? To have those awkward "nice to meet you" comments even though I had been a student there for 5 years.

So my interview went fairly well. I was nervous, as usual, but I don't think I made an ass of myself. I might have avoided questions like politicians and celebrities, but I tried to be honest and to be myself.

It isn't easy when the person interviewing you is an old housemaster who, on numerous occasions, hauled you out of bed when you were supposed to be in class. The housemaster who punished you for missing curfew (I was marching up Yonge Street after the Jays won the 1992 World Series. It wasn't my fault!). The housemaster who busted you for ticking off a dozen names during breakfast registration. Still, it was nice to see a familiar face and one that may actually be on my side in the decision making.

So I wait. I'd really like this job, and I really don't want to jinx anything here, but I really want this job. I think that despite the intense oddity of being a teacher at my old school, I would like to have some of that magic staff room water.

Interview Morning

I was up until 1:00 trying to get the popcorn husks out of my teeth and gums. I stupidly made popcorn before bed and then obsessed over getting all the bits out. It's a convenient excuse when everyone knows perfectly well that I'm just nervous; I've got the big interview this morning at 11:00 am.

I set my alarm clock for 8:45am and 9:00am which is a full two hours earlier than my usual wake up time. Still, I managed to wake up naturally at 8:30. I really must be nervous, because normally that would never happen (it might also be the amazing 2 hour nap I had yesterday afternoon).

So I've got things planned out like this:

1) Walk the dog
2) Have cereal while checking email and blogging.
3) Finish laundry from yesterday (final load needs to be put in the dryer; and presumably folded later)
4) Find something to wear which may or may not need serious ironing.
5) Begin reviewing articles.
6) Take a shower. It is very important here that I do not cut myself shaving, which usually means that I will.
7) Dress.
8) Finish reviewing articles and my notes on each.
9) Procrastinate by doing pointless jobs and puttering around the apartment.
10) Leave the house at 10:30 at the latest to arrive slightly early for the 11:00 meeting.

I'm now almost finished number 2 and I'd better continue moving through my list. Cross your fingers that I get through the list but also that my next blog will be about my new job!

Recent Online Finds

I was saddened, especially after printing about 3 dozen pages of forms, to find this killjoy. With the closed application, my plans to return to school in January have been destroyed. I'm sure that I'll be able to rationalize it in a few days, but as of right now, I'm a little bummed.

I also came across the latest video from the new album, Takk (preview the album here), from Sigur Ros. Here is a link to other videos, live concerts, and interviews. If you get NPR and are interested in some concert spoilers, check this out. Some good stuff here. Make sure to check out the video for "viðrar vel til loftárása". Jon screened it at a Concordia film festival after only watching the first three quarters of the video, and it got a lot of attention at the screening.

Toronto Film Festival

Jon emailed me today to ask if I wanted to go to the Toronto International Film Festival. Since he works for the festival he was able to get tickets to Terry Gilliam's Tideland, and the gala screening of Danis Tanovic's L'Enfer.

Tideland

I was expecting good things from this film. It was filmed in Saskatchewan, and I remember hearing about it on the radio as I drove to work. The government had given a lot of grants and made a bunch of concessions to the production in order for them to film in the province. A lot of conservative members of the Saskatchewan Party were up in arms that taxpayer money was supporting Hollywood. A bunch of bollocks in my opinion and politicians trying to create something out of nothing. Most importantly, I was looking forward to meeting "The Dude".

Terry Gilliam's films are always bizarre. You're never sure what will happen next, and you feel awkward and uncomfortable as you watch them. Should you laugh? Cry? Run? They throw you off your guard and make you nervous.

Jeliza-Rose's mother dies of a heroin overdose, and she and her father move to his family home on the prairie. Shortly after arriving, Jeliza-Rose cooks her father up some heroin, and he ODs. She then spends much of the remainder of the movie creating an Alice in Wonderland world and interacting with her dolls (just the heads that she places on her index fingers).

The movie is strange, it's bizarre, and it really isn't that interesting either. I was profoundly bored at times, and the repetition and beating of ideas didn't hold my attention. I was uncomfortable, and uninterested in the characters. In fact the characters thoroughly annoyed me.

It was cool going to the world premiere of a movie, but that was the best thing about it, sadly.

L'Enfer

My first gala anything. It was fun lining up with people all dressed up in fancy suits and high heels (I had on khakis and a t-shirt, so I was a little out of place). They brought hors d'oeuvres around but made sure not to give any to the homeless man leaning against a planter.

This was my first visit to Roy Thompson Hall, and it was a comfortable place to watch a movie. I'm even more psyched now for the Sigur Ros concert on the 19th!

The film itself was quite good, as far as incredibly depressing European movies go. The film centres around a family and demonstrates how they are torn apart by an event in their past. There's nothing uplifting, nothing cheery, no light at the end of the tunnel. It makes you want to curl up in bed and never speak to anyone again, or jump out the window.

But it is done well. The writing is believable, and the actors (mainly actresses) are convincing. The story is somewhat heavy handed and while it doesn't bludgeon you it does beat its point in. The problem is that it's being too philosophical and trying to hard to leave its audience with that life changing experience. After seeing the movie, I want to go to France on vacation not alter the next 65 years of my life.

My overwhelming complaint is the music. Films don't need music to tell the audience how to feel. That's what instrumental jazz and classical is for. When characters are crying, don't play sappy strings; when they are in crisis, don't have an orchestra bellowing out dramatically anxious woodwinds. A good score should add to the scene, but should never make the audience aware of its presence.

So my TIFF was a good experience, but not great. It's hard with these festival flicks, because you can really get a lot of crapola before you stumble upon something great. We calculated that the two of us saved $53.00 each by getting the free passes. I would have been supremely ticked had I spent that kind of money on those kind of films, but there are few things in life that are free and it was nice to sit there knowing that I didn't waste all that cash.

Interview

I got the call about the interview today. They called at 8:56 on Friday evening. I was surprised to hear from them that late, but it was good news and I'll take it. I'm meeting with them on Monday morning at 11:00. When asked if I should bring anything, they responded, "No, not really, it's just going to be a short chat." I'm not sure what that means, though.

Blahg (Random Thoughts)

I've been wracking my brain to try to come up with something to write about these days, but the ideas aren't coming. I came across this bit of design fun at the Nonist. I suppose that after six months, my lowly blog is going through some growing pains of its own. There is also a very funny bit here (be sure to click on "Read more...").

In an attempt to find a solution to the bird-poop problem in the alley by my apartment, I did a few google searches for pigeon spikes. I came across this horrendous photoshopping. I defy you to look at the before and after pictures and tell me that they were done by someone over the age of 8.

I had resisted the slovenly life and awoken before 9 for 95% of the summer, but have fallen into the trap of ye olde sleep-until-noon.

I was somewhat disappointed by Ocean's Twelve whose plot twists seemed pedantic and by the end I was left with the realization that much of the film was pointless. It's nice to watch actors having fun, but with the heavy-handed Julia Roberts self-reference and the Bruce Willis cameo, I was overwhelmingly left with the impression that the joke was at the audience's expense.

I've been waiting to hear about my job interview all week, and I cracked under the pressure and emailed them to follow up. I hate the follow up call simply because I hate to be a nuissance; no one wants to hire a nuissance. They eased my fears and assured me that it was just a matter of time. Fine with me, but when someone tells me early in the week, I naturally expect to hear something before Friday! Patience, my son.

So I'm hoping that I can find something more interesting to write about, but until then I suppose these unconnected thoughts and links will have to do.

Long September Long Weekend Report.

Well as far as long weekends go, this was not a terrifically exciting one. With the possibility of a decent job facing me, I've spent most of the long weekend preparing for that. It's a fairly easy to sit down to work when nearly everyone you know skips town.

Friday
On Friday a zipped past the school to pick up a package of readings and spent the whole afternoon in the Palmerston branch of the Toronto Public Library. I waded through an article entitled, "The Philosophy of Perception," which I found not to be the simplest refresher into philosophical thought and philosopy-speak. I spent most of my time on Wikipedia looking up concepts that I probably should already know if I am planning to teach philosophy.

I managed to get through it and after coming home to a big piece of pumpkin pie, I opened my second article: Chapter Three "Language", of Thomas Nagel's The Last Word. If I thought that the article on perception was tough, this one was like being in the ring with Hulk Hogan (scary and at the same time, laugh-out-loud embarrassing- or so I'd expect). The language was difficult and the concepts obscure. On first reading, I did my best to make sense of anything and underlined a few passages.

The final article was a refreshing breeze. It was clearly written with clear ideas, in short, accessible. It was Chapter One of Michael Lynch's book, True to Life: Why Truth Matters.

Saturday
My Mom and Dad were expected to arrive at 10:30 on Saturday morning. At 10:00 my alarm jolted me out of bed and I quickly dashed around the apartment in my underwear, trying to tidy things up: dishes, folding a blanket, taking out a small bag of garbage, that's about it.

After a leisurely shower, my parents arrived at 11:00, which by their normal standards of lateness, isn't too bad. I welcomed their dog into my home (where she will be living for the next three weeks) as well as more garden-grown vine-ripened tomatoes than I could possibly eat in a month.

I drove them to the airport and we had a nice chat about the chaos in New Orleans. I pontificated about my vision of a new civil rights movement in the United States, and hoped that this event would be enough to jolt people out of complacency. We arrived at check-in and I left them at security and headed home. I parked their car with the impudence that only a temporary parking permit affords; right in front of the house.

With that I got down to my second reading of my articles. I won't go into detail here as no one really wants to read a blog about someone reading. After the second round, they all made much more sense and I had a fairly strong grasp on all of the concepts and their spinoffs. I called my friend Andrew, about going out after he finished work at midnight, but I dozed off at 11:15.

Sunday
Feeling refreshed after 12 hours of sleep, and happy to have made sense of my readings, I treated myself to breakfast.

I wanted to go somewhere where I would be able to review my readings, before sitting down at the computer to type notes. There's no better place to do that than the Victory Cafe. Not only do they have a nice outdoor patio, but their service is so reprehensibly awful that I couldn't imagine ever going there without a minimum of at least 50 pages of reading! They did not disappoint, I reviewed my articles, ate my scrambled eggs, and still managed to be frustrated at the delay.

I spent the afternoon typing notes on the articles: raising questions, drawing connections to real life, and thinking of ways to make these abstract ideas relevant to a 16 year old. I managed without too much difficulty, and with that finished, I headed to the video store, and watched movies for the evening.

Monday
Having finished all my work, I went out to brunch with my sister. We chatted mainly about our parents, and had a few laughs at their expense, while secretly weeping on the inside at the horror of our responsibility to take care of these two nuts.

I finished watching my rented movies and made a peach/strawberry/blueberry crisp. I passed the vacuum around, did my laundry and some yard work. I took a much needed shower and my first shave of the weekend and took my parents dog out for a walk to the video store.

When I got back, I got a call from a friend who had just returned from the long weekend out of town, and I had dinner.

Tuesday
So now I sit, waiting for my interview. I worked hard preparing this weekend and I would like to get it over with. If I get the job, I'll take it, but if I don't I really don't want to waste any more time thinking and worrying about it.

Not the greatest of long weekends (though a few things made it fun), but as I've said before, a long weekend means nothing if you're in the middle of eight weeks of summer holidays.

Fun Weekend?

I got an email this morning about my interview. It's going to happen early next week, so that's pretty awesome.

I was asked to drop by the school and pick up a package of readings. My job will be to read them over, and think of ways to make them accessible and manageable for 16 year olds. It's heavy duty philosophy dropping names like Hare, Wittgenstein, and Rorty. (for all of those commenters out there: I am aware of the irony of my own name dropping here)

All in all there's about 200 pages of readings, which is completely reasonable considering I don't have any plans for the weekend. I'm off now to find a nice quiet table in the library and begin. I am chronically thorough with stuff like this and I expect that I'm going to go way overboard, but I really see this as "my big break" and since the job seems like so much fun and right up my alley, I don't want to screw things up.