I had never heard of Vera Johnson before, but I’m currently listening to her thanks to the magic of the Internet and the CBC and the tipoff of a gent whose non-ad I responded to on craigslist. I think if I ever get fired…. I wanna run away and turn into Vera Johnson. Dr. Filk, in particular, I refer you to this link.
Listen to the end… there’s a Unitarian hymn….
Especially listen to the first bit if you want to hear the Minx from Pinsk. And a lovely song about censorship. And a funny song about the 1968 vagrancy laws in Vancouver.
Patricia, whose new hairstyle rises above, in all beautiful ways, the norms of sophistication of a company where the dress code regulations include the words, “Clothes…. please!” has announced that she will never deign to view the Golden Compass (which I intend to view with my son this evening at Metrotown). I would caution her that books and movies are actually two separate disciplines. Yes, the Pullman novels are masterpieces which will stand for the ages. Yes, it’s impossible to jam the sophistication and beautiful language into a two hour movie. Yes, they’ve drained the movie of any nasty references to the horrors of religion. But any fricking movie that has armoured bears in it I have to see!
Speaking of the dress code at the company which may not be named, it is entertaining in the extreme to think that it took six months for us to get Scary Clown to quit wearing tshirts with holes in them. I think my habit of sneaking up on him preparatory to giving him a neck rub and poking one of my fingers through the hole might have assisted in this regard.
I am very happy to report that I dined with Daughter Katie last night, who showed up with a pineapple in tow. The symbol of hospitality…
