Category: Al K. Hall

Snowpocalypse? Snowmageddon? S’no-joke? Snowtastrophe?

Yeah, well I got stuck at Mike’s (big surprise) with a foot of newfallen snow (okay, maybe six inches).  I have no clean clothes, the buses are only marginally running, and the streets are full of morons.  Seeing as how the invite was to watch True Blood and drink beer, I guess that this will continue, although I’m not up for beer at this time of the morning.

Mike doesn’t think there’s going to be a big depression multi years long.  His line of thinking is that the Chinese are holding so much American paper that they will do everything they can to slow things down.  Imagine, the poor people of China get to carry me and my lifestyle a while longer….

The snow removal in the GVRD sucks.  If we get weather like this during the Olympics, we will be the laughingstock of the world. Just another thing to look forward to – it’s only a year away now.

Tom messaged me and told me I have a ride to Conflikt.  If you get this sentence phonetically instead of realizing that it’s about a Filk con, that would be a pretty funny message.  We ALL have a ride to Conflict, know what I mean?

I love Mike’s apartment.  He has a temperfoam topper on his Murphy bed (he slept in the living room like the gentleman he is) with adjustable air settings so I am slavering to get over to where he bought it from and get one for my bed… it’s SO comfy.  I slept better last night than I have in ages, although that might have something to do with the 45 minutes of body work I got last night.  This is the perfect bachelor pad -a room JUST for massage, a room just for eating, a room just for TV and a room just for sleeping, and tons of closet space.  I’ll post pics when I get home, whenever the hell that is.

THERE IS SO MUCH SNOW.

Jeff called, he’s doing snow removal right now.

Happy New Year

So Keith, Paul and I were at Jarmo and Susana’s last night, and once again performed the stannomancy.  Katie and Jeff chose the better part – to stay home, and not to drink!

NOT A SINGLE PERSON had money for 2009.

Not one.  Out of fifteen people. You may recall Dr. Filk was told that he’d get money two thirds of the way into the year and found it laughable, and then went from John’s Jukes to Earl’s at a considerable increase in rate.  But it also said there was a baby in his future so you can’t b’lieve everything the tin tells you.

My year is smooth, and expanding, for 4/5ths of it, and then there’s a hell of a twist at the end.  I’ll post pics at some point… I actually have to pull everything off my camera and stick it someplace where those interested may view them… I still haven’t posted the Louvre, and I should, but that was, candidly, one hell of a trip and I get kind of shaky when I go anywhere near those memories.

Anyway, it was a lovely, congenial crowd, and there was even a lovely dog named Kona (lab setter cross, from the coat) who was being dogsat by some of the attendees.

Snowed more.  Lots more.

; why is the rum always gone?  Between us all we killed a forty pounder, and I had two triples so I definitely helped.  I’m still hanging on the edge of a migraine so I’d better get off the computer now.

And, via an LJ buddy, Neil Gaiman’s blessing:

I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you dream dangerously and outrageously, that you make something that didn’t exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked. And most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now) that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.

Best …. line …. evar

So.  There is this filksong called The Mad Scientist’s Love Song which is performed by Lady Miss B and Dr. Filk.  In a startling development, they reversed roles and Dr. Filk got to be the charming assistant.

When I commented that I had never actually seen Dr. Filk in a dress before, this was the response from LMB (emphasis added by moi):

Subject: Re: Dr Filk’s ballgown

My favourite part was how he accessorized with big chunky biker boots.

Okay, no, my favourite part was him saying “Why, what would a day be like
 without a little public humiliation? I’ll probably never find out.”

I AM SO STEALING THAT LINE. 

I’m recovering today from walking all the way from King to Bloor last night.  Met Dave JD at Jump, walked about downtown for a while, ended up at C’est What, and I want to tell you ALL that I will die fulfilled and happy, because I HAVE HAD A BEER FLOAT.  Yes, the C’est What has Hazelnut Chocolate Bitter floats, with whipped cream and ice cream and a maraschino cherry.  Each mouthful had at least four flavours; the final top note of the hops in the Bitter danced on my palate for about 15 minutes before I regretfully had to wake up a bit with coffee and water.  PS, the meal at Jump was solid but there’s no ******* way it was worth $100 even with the alcohol.  Then we walked all the way up Yonge, deking into the Eaton Centre so I could see what it looked like tarted up for Xmas (worth seeing), and then coming back out of the PATH to view the ******* mess they made of the intersection of Dundas and Yonge. 

The entire downtown core is a mess of sodium vapour orange, metallic blue and piercing white LED lights festooned from every lamppost and filling every square; total Xmas yield = + 350 ugly points.  We continued up the street.  The Swiss Chalet I ate at multiple times a week when I was working at the Delta Chelsea is still there.  Many other landmarks are gone but plenty remain.  David’s is still on the corner of Yonge and Bloor with its array of expensive shoes; the Pilot is still there just off Yonge in Yorkville.  As is standard I did most of the talking; sometimes I wonder if Dave ever is thinking “When will she STFU?”  He deked into a CD joint and insisted on picking up a couple of Weakerthans CD’s so you may all be assured that Dave’s role in my life as somebody who forces me to refine my taste while I broaden my horizons continues.

We ended up at Flow for the last drink of the evening and after another fifteen minutes of aimlessly wandering around Yorkville while I critiqued the dresses in the window (Jesus, if I was a man I wouldn’t go near a woman dressed like that, I’d be afraid of getting caught on something, etc.) we decided that fun as it had been Dave had to go to work in the morning, so about 10:15 we packed it in; I came home by cab.

Vancouverites, listen up!  The cab driver ASKED ME IF HE COULD TAKE THE CALL when his cell phone rang.  I don’t know how often you take cabs (I gotsk no car, so I do a lot) but I nearly choked on my tongue when he said that.  I thanked him profusely and tipped him according to his deserts.  Speaking of which, prob’ly the funniest part of the evening was how animated Dave got when lecturing me (humourously, not pompously) about the importance of tipping.  The how, the why, the way it’s an inexpensive and effective way of spreading joy, the importance of not looking like a cheap bastard (I paraphrase).

I think I’m coming back in February.  There’s a play I want to see, and I like going to Toronto for Valentine’s day and hanging with friends – I had an AMAZING time the last time.  It’ll be a little awkward seeing as how I’ll just be back from Belize – current planning – who knows – but frankly now that I’ve figured out that I need to quit travelling on cheap airlines I think I’ll have a lot better time.

PS we leave for France soon.  Happy sigh!

At Tammy’s

Working backwards, I am ‘staying above the fray’ as Tammy and the exterminator battle with termites (this part of Toronto has them, and what can you do, eh?), I ate her goat cheese and garden picked oregano omelette (and it was nommy) with fruit and nut bread; I slept great, and in fact about two hours longer than I normally do; we had a very pleasant evening (she bought me Tuborg, the saintly creature, as she never has beer in the house); we figured out where I’ll be spending at least part of my restaurant money in Paris; I arranged to see Dave JD at Jump today around supper time (but nobody else in Toronto, I’ll make a special trip back for that) while Tammy’s at choir practice; I had a pleasant trip by transit from the airport (this being possible because I got to sit the whole way even though it was rush hour when I arrived) and then Tammy picked me up at Pape Station; I had a very pleasant flight because at the last minute I changed my seat selection from 34 row to 44 row (767-200, but Paul probably already knew that) so I had nobody sitting next to me fore. aft, port and starboard and I was close to an aisle and washroom AND I’d never been on an aircraft with functioning video-on-demand in the cheap seats, so I was actually SURPRISED when they called ‘we are starting our descent’; I got my money back from the WORST breakfast sandwich evar and by way of apology the server brought me a free bottle of water; Jeff very kindly dropped me off at the airport; I got a reasonable night’s sleep the night before.

Anyway, I’ll only be going near a computer or screen in the most minimal way for this time off, as it’s obvious my internet addiction is hijacking what’s left of my life, so if you don’t mind I’m off to abuse Pentium and George, two of the nicest and most sucky middle aged cats I’ve ever met, both of whom think I’m kinda keen.  George slept on my feet last night and emitted never a peep.  Happy sigh!  Also, and this if for Keith, Tammy of Surpassing Excellence has Alan Moore’s Lost Girls in hardcover… can such things be?  Who needs the internet?  PS it’s snowing…. that desultory November snow….

Doug and Elly

Yesterday was quite the day for meals (which I did not have to cook). For Brunch, Jeff and ScaryClown and I sucked back an Islands inflected breakfast at the Reef on Main street and then took a tour of the shops; for dinner Doug cooked a magnificent roast lamb with greek salad, greek style potatoes (oh…my… god they were good) and hummus, pita and tzatziki.  I even drank red wine and didn’t get a migraine.  Keith and Jeff accompanied me on that trek to the golden kitchen of Doug.  As always, the soundtrack at their place is amazing.  I never go over there but that I think I want to live there!

When asked, why return to Toronto, Elly had a few comments.  It is home.  Her mother’s dying of emphysema (not that Elly means to get close to her or effect a reconciliation after all the crap…).  It’s closer to grandchildren; it’s closer to children; it’s closer to New York, where she is establishing a new chapter in her mental health career (her show went over really well).  Vancouver and her time in BC got her healthy, healthy enough that she tossed her journals.  (Why do I need them?  It’s just endless boohooing.  There’s no value in it.  Gave me a twinge about the blog, believe you me.) Doug’s career is portable, as is hers. And the maraschino on top is getting out before the Olympics.  Grr.

Doug showed off his new insulin monitoring device; he says if he can reduce the number of injections from four to five a day to one every three days he’ll gladly participate in the research.

When Jeff and I moved in here I whined about how I didn’t have any cast iron frying pans.  Well, I do now; Doug and Elly are dejunking and I acquired two.  Shout out for Jeff who enquired if they were dejunking.  Keith may get the computer desk but he has to run it by Paul first.

I don’t have a picture of Doug’s new beard styling, but it rocks.  I do have pics of his pumpkin, and will post later …

Sneaky sneaky

I continue to be extremely sneaky – my most recent foray into sneakiness was telling my mandolin teacher “Lady Miss Banjola is a GEEENIUS!  Heer, I be showink you…” and then I played Tune Away…..

Anne immediately said, “Forward me the link, there’s somebody I gotta play that for.”  Ha ha!  Then I played her the Tapioca song via Youtube.  My extremely low key plans for world domination through music continue unabated.  And I met her husband – I only found out last week that he sits in the car and waits for her during her teaching gigs, and I was torn between being appalled and thinking, “aw, sweet!” so I went out and said hi.  Then I had a brief lesson and Anne and I shot the breeze for a while (it’s okay, hubby has a book and he’s used to much longer waits, apparently).

I met Kevin, a friend of Jeff’s, last night, and watched the two of them play 2009 EA Hockey (which is amazing, by the way) and found out that housing prices in Kelowna are just as stupid as they are in Vancouver, at least for the time being. Beer and Switzerland Chicken was consumed.  Robot Chicken was watched. Jon Lajoie was watched.  The hi-res version of Presto! was watched (and, to my unsurprise, I saw things I hadn’t noticed before, including that the rabbit’s name is Alec Kazam). Kevin belongs to a band called Grooveyard but since he’s likely moving back to the island with his wife and progeny, I doubt that band will live much longer.

And I don’t know whether it’s true or not, but Robof9 led me to believe that he was going to try to find me a nice middle aged man.  It used to be Single, Straight and Solvent, but these days I’m goin’ for best two in three.  What can I say, Robof9 is a man who laughs in the face of the difficult, and by sheer force of brains contrives to elude the grip of the impossible.

Next up:

Coffee

Show off, show off, show off.

Best….. smackdown…..ever.

Now I show off my brother, Kelsey and Sean.

Next, Keith, me and Katie, and Keith and I are wearing the hats we JUST BOUGHT at Edie’s Hats.  I bought a hat from a hat company that’s been in business in England for 250 years; I nearly bought a hat handmade in Montreal but frankly the hat was too girly for me, because although I am girly about some things, my appearance isn’t one of them….

Can you guess where we are???? of course, we’re in the Granville Island Brewery, drinking Winter Ale and being very cheerful and convivial; the sun was blasting down like midsummer and I had a NEW HAT.

recovery mode

Watching Sarah Palin struggle to assemble an English sentence while Joe Biden marshalled his talking points and droned through them was just about the most painful thing I ever subjected my eyes to.  Nor have my ears quit sulking.  Honestly I’m going to take a fresh look at Adam Sandler, I may have misjudged his talent.  The low point was “Her reward is in heaven” which just about had me barfing up my guts.  Biden wasn’t nearly as embarrassing but the idea of him being president after an assassination is just wretched.  The comments about marriage had Patricia muttering “Coward” to Biden.  I writhed in uncontrollable embarrassment and dismay (I do that, causing Patricia to ask me repeatedly if I was okay) but got through it in time to realize that two measly beers and the BEST DAMNED SMOKED GRUYÈRE evah were enough to put me in a sort of tryptophan coma and I slept for a couple of hours until I realized, on groggily awakening, that I wasn’t at home (strange cats closely inspecting my feet helped).  Then P called me a cab and I went home and – amazing! – changed into my jammies and then fell into bed like a downed Douglas fir.

Let me describe the Gruyère.  It was cave aged and smoked.  Little crystals of intense cheesiness blended into a smooth authoritative but restrained crumbly heavenly aroma and mouth feel.   The whisky cheddar was good; the incredible Port Salut almost liquefied.  And those crackers!  God, those are the best cheese crackers, I have to get some and then figure out where I store them so I don’t eat every single one as soon as the box comes home.  The cavalcade of cheese â„¢ abides in the West End – all is right with the world.  There is no political problem that cheese can’t solve, I tell you.

Tonight, The Con.

The perfect wedding

I guess I have to say that I don’t feel bad at all about being almost 50, because it means I’ve attended a fair few marriage ceremonies.  I have some basis of comparison, then, when I say that Jerome and Shannon’s wedding was the closest to perfect I’ve ever seen.

A marriage, you know, one of those commitments not to be entered into lightly or with no thought.

First, the happy couple.  Hardworking, intelligent, hospitable and good-looking.  Once in a very long while you meet a couple made for each other and when you get the news they’re engaged you get all wiggly like a puppy that something good is gonna be happening and you’re gonna be invited.

The venue: on a near cloudless day, warm with a bit of a breeze, they married outdoors next to the pavilion in Deer Lake Park, in front of about 100 people who had flown or driven from all over Washington or Western Canada.

The bridal party: Three stunning women in beautiful red strapless dresses that they all looked good in and which they would all be able to wear again for a formal occasion.  The groomsmen: two guys who go back to the dawn of time with Jerome, and his twin sister, who, uh, goes back even earlier than that.  Joanna got to wear the same red gown, and the whole party looked great – and happy to be there.

The bridal costume:  While I still think Cheryl’s wedding gown was magnificent, it was appropriate for her age and not being marriage number one.  THIS was a full on girly girl, long train, beads and spangles, white wedding dress. It was exactly like the kind of dress 8 year old girls dream about, and it was quite funny because Shannon is not a girly girl, but she still had the perfect dress.

The ceremony started and ended on time.  I don’t think the bride and groom recited their vows with quite enough intent and dignity, but that’s just me and they still got the job done.

The officiating dude:  He was the possessor of  a clear mellow voice with an English accent and he didn’t rush anything.

The presence of mind of the groom:  While they were reciting vows, a small spider started down Shannon’s face (it had probably joined the ceremony during the picture taking just before the ceremony).  Shannon’s arachnophobia is legendary, and Jerome dealt with it calmly.  She was laughing at him as he tried to clear it off her face because he didn’t tell her it was a spider until AFTER which was kinda the right thing to do if he didn’t want her leaping up and screeching.

The reception hall was exactly the right size and there was an open bar.  No, I didn’t go insane (I am up at 6 am the next day after all) but I got plenty convivial.

The music at the reception:  from the last 50 years, but leaning more towards U2 and Aerosmith and Tom Petty and Tragically Hip and Pink Floyd, with Sinatra and Del Shannon thrown in.  Danceable, hummable, fun.

The guests; fun loving.  The table I sat at:  All people I know and love, or would care to get to know better.  The MC:  a friend of Shannon’s who goes back yonks; he did a good job.  The best man.  Okay, I’m prejudiced, because I really like Sam I Am, but that was THE BEST speech ever.  It was completely loaded with electricity puns.  Loaded.  pOp, if you’d been there even if you would have been roaring:  All of his current and former coworkers were speechless with laughter, not the nervous kind but the kind where you are leaning on the table crying.

Food:  really good roast beast and plenty of other nummy things, in abundance, well cooked.

The dancing:   I was out there with a crowd of coworkers when Robbie B said, “Oh my god Allegra did you see that?” “What, the father of the bride delivering jello shooters onto the dance floor?” “How perfect is that?” “I think it was an epoch making day in Canadian history, frankly, and WE WERE HERE.”

The seating plans:  Weddings with four parents – none of whom really can sit at the same table – don’t necessarily work all that well.  There wasn’t any awkwardness.

Shannon said (she was grinning) during the bride and groom speech that she had made a Powerpoint presentation to the caterers, so you get the impression she’s a disciplined and organized woman.  Well, I’d say it paid off, because Shannon and Jerome made the decision from the outset to throw a memorable party for their friends and family, and they got their wish.  I had a complete blast.  Many thanks to Mike for the ride to the hall and companionship during the evening…. at one point a photographer asked if we were together and we just smirked, while the other folks at the table laughed.  And thanks to Jeff for getting me there, I appreciate that a lot.

Wasn’t that a party…..  If any of my pix turned out halfway decent I’ll post some later.

Lovely visit

ScaryClown showed us around his ‘hood, being Main St., and after a lovely (and on ScaryClown’s part, quite intensely liquid) brunch, we wandered over to Voltage and Solly’s Bagelry and the Organic Grocery store. I picked up a black and red squid Tshirt from Voltage (LMB probably knows the one I mean). I must say, I’ve never watched somebody pack away three lime margaritas before noon….I didn’t even know you could ORDER lime margaritas before noon. Much as I love alcohol, my day would end the instant I got home and kicked my shoes off. There’s only one beer left, but I’ll fix that tomorrow – I should probably lay off today. Anyway, we picked up sesame bagels and smoked salmon cream cheese and these little intensely chocolate swirly things, and Keith and ScaryClown got cinnamon buns. At the organic grocery I picked up a San Pellegrino for Keith – he loves it – and organic coffee, because I’m out, and organic walnuts, because I saw them and decided to go nuts. Yeah, very funny.

ScaryClown wanted to know why he hadn’t been told about Brian’s going away and I said, “But you’re always over at Uncle Jimmy’s, drinking, on Friday nights. You’ve been doing that every Friday since I met you, almost.” And he burst out laughing, because he thought he hadn’t been invited because he and LTGW are semi-feuding (which, by the way, I am not commenting on because I have a garage-sized crush on LTGW and consider ScaryClown to be my sibling, so there’s no way I can win no matter what I say on the subject, although I will say that they are both very smart and very sensitive).

Ah! Paul just phoned. He’s going to bring food over and we’ll have dinner together with Jeff and Keith AND he’s going to stop and get beer. So I’ve got about three hours to do the Tasmanian Devil cleanup (my room is a DUMP) and maybe blast through the bathroom like a pink tornado.

Jeff and I were thinking about opening Crazy Bob’s Discount Funeral Home. Some conditions apply, bagpipes not included. Hm. I guess it was funnier at the time.

Life is pretty good. Yes, my back still hurts, but I’ve learned that complaining about it never helps.

PARTAY

We saw Brian C off to his new job in fine style – and I used the opportunity to record Buy me a Beer in front of a live audience.  Yes, I got permission from Party Boy and the management of the Golf Course first, so I may be a self-involved putz, but I’m not entirely without a clue. Also, I distributed neck rubs all round, except for the people who said NO, and it’s amazing how many of them I just said, “I know YOU’RE passing” to, and they just looked at me… then the next person would openly mock them and thank their good fortune.  This happened more than once, so the cumulative effect was quite funny.  One of the people I worked on had been shit on by a crow, but I worked on her ANYWAY because the crow was considerate enough to let fly along her spine well below her shoulders.  Also recorded Housewife’s Lament.  There were forty people there at the height of the festivities, largest turnout I’ve seen in 11 years of employment…. Maybe 45.  There was a LOT of people there.  I was going to do a guest list.  LTGW gave me, Jeff, Keith and Patricia rides home, or roughly home- the 25 bus was waiting for us at Brentwood, as if it was meant to be.

Another NCIS blowout day.  I made waffles for breakfast, unbelievably good meatloaf for dinner, wiped off the back deck table, wiped off the kitchen counters, folded some laundry (which Jeff did, and thanks cats! for urinating on Keith’s bedclothes!) and otherwise did squat.  I’m having a lazy day.

Tomorrow Scary Clown and Keith and Jeff and I are going to eat brunch down on Main St.  Then in the afternoon I hope to see daughter Katie, who really is a very nice woman to talk to on the phone.  And I talked to Peggy, and I talked to my mother, and Mike called to tell me that Bounce’s clone, in the form of a 5 month old male kitten, has cruised into his life.  He’s been adopted.  That makes him happy.  Happier making still is that it’s Jerome’s stag tonight.  Mike vaguely quoted the email saying something about how Jerome didn’t want anything too stupid or strange, but uh, anytime I’VE ever gone drinking with those guys, magically delicious, improbably fun things happen, so seeing as how they will be drinking AND the Dalai Jarmo will be there, I suspect a good time will be had by all.

Jeff bought an elcheapo camera to record the antics of the cats in the living room, as time without number one of the cats has done something unutterably cute and we’re blocks from a camera.  It lives in the living room now.

I watched my newly posted video a couple of times, and about halfway through the video (deleted as being pretentious bushwah, with a side of smug).

The air conditioner is running.  A Kenyan took gold in the marathon.  The world is okay.

Maybe I shouldn’t record Buy me a Beer after all!

This seems a painful way to encourage alcohol consumption.

I am still recovering from the cavalcade of cheese, but I’ll be in to work as normal this morning, or as close to normal as my inconstant weirdness ever gets.

However, I’m going to poke around and look for another venue, possibly the Heritage Grill, if they’ll let me.

Weeknight

All I’m gonna say about my evening at Patricia’s – I’m home now, it’s 11 pm – is that it was a cavalcade of cheese. Quite literally – some of the finest cheeses for sale in Vancouver were there.  Om nom nom.  To bed, alone, sigh.

Oh almost forgot Buy me a Beer must be reshot.  Now thinking caps of on-ish-ness are put.

Visit

Keith and Paul and Mike were over. We watched Coffee and Cigarettes. Somehow I’ve got to get off my duff and get this place looking like there weren’t drunken frat boys partying here last night. Supper was barbecued chicken breasts (with Paul taking the helm there), swiss chard of such exceptional wondrous tastiness that it bankrumpts my powers of description, garlic bread (of course), salad and European style cheesecake from the Austin Deli.

Paul has the daintiest snore of anybody I ever met. Coffee and Cigarettes, after he’s hauled a brace of midnights, was not enough to hold his attention, and he flaked out on the love seat. I like the Iggy Pop/Tom Waits and Steven Wright/Robert Benigni segments the best, although the ‘twins’ one is also pretty funny. Especially since those two men are actually cousins.

Sigh. Back to housework.