my head is killing me. no, really. my head is absolutely killing me. you see, i've been suffering through a particularly nasty headache going on eight hours now. and i've already tried everything within my arsenal of tricks to relieve the mind-numbing pain but alas... to no avail. i've taken a nap. nothing. i've had something to eat. nothing. i've downed a coke, figuring that a lack of sugar and caffeine may just be the source of my cranial discomfort. nothing. i've even sat through a forty-minute, steaming hot shower, with the shower head set to pulsate, but still... nothing. normally, i would have begun to experience at least some sense of relief after administering the preceding set of remedies. yet tonight's soreness seems rather unique in that it has so far managed to elude conventional therapies. jeez, i really hope this pain i speak of is nothing more than a standard, garden-variety, run-of-the-mill headache. i would hate to think that it could be anything more than that. uh-oh. my mind is starting to wander a little. my imagination is beginning to play tricks on me. my collective consciousness is slowly getting the better of my rational self. flashback. flashback. ok, so when i was eight, i noticed a huge lump on my forehead. so i pointed it out to my mother and she was, like, "uh-oh. that doesn't look good." and i was, like, what do you mean, that doesn't look good? and more to the point, what do you mean, uh-oh? and so we made a beeline for the hospital where my mother demanded that the e.r. doctors provide me with an x-ray. and after much cajoling on my mother's part, the e.r. doctors finally relented and put me under the x-ray machine. and when the results were in, the doctors pulled my mother aside and delivered the bad news: "ma'am, that lump on your son's forehead... that lump... is his skull." ok, so i managed to dodge a bullet that day, but still...
you never know: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=stRWtrmXkHo
"waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite. or waiting around for friday night or waiting perhaps for their uncle jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance. everyone is just waiting." - dr. seuss
Friday, June 18, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
excuse me waiter but there's a hair in my soup
so what if i found a loose hair on my mcdonald's cheeseburger the other day? i mean, it's not as if it was ground into the beef or anything like that. and once detected, i was able to easily take hold of the single blond strand between my thumb and forefinger and pluck it from my slightly undercooked patty. problem solved. so what's the big deal? my dining partner at the time urged me to request a replacement burger. a replacement burger? my slightly undercooked burger wasn't the problem. the hair was the problem. and once the hair was no more, there was no more problem with the hair. jeez.
and while i'm on the subject, what exactly is the big fuss about finding a hair in one's food anyway? after all, the hair on my cheeseburger was most definitely a human hair. hey, we all belong to the same species, don't we? and the hair certainly appeared clean enough. i mean, it was shiny and lustrous and all that. and do you really think there were more germs on that hair than on the kitchen counter top where that hair and my burger first joined forces? i mean, c'mon now people. give your head a shake.
alright, now rather than a loose human hair, let's pretend that i had found... let's pretend i had found, say, a couple of mouse droppings on my burger the other day. now if that had been the case, chances are i would have most likely asked for that replacement burger. or perhaps i may have even passed on the replacement burger and demanded a full refund in lieu of a replacement burger. but that wasn't the case. no, i found a blond, detachable hair on my burger the other day. a clean hair. a human hair. that was the scenario i was faced with. those were the circumstances i was forced to confront.
"live a little, kids." - oise mentor
this should make the hair stand up on the back of your neck, assuming you have hair on the back of your neck: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8c7x2JD_j-0
p.s. grammar alert! grammar alert! can anyone spot the dangling participle in the first paragraph?
and while i'm on the subject, what exactly is the big fuss about finding a hair in one's food anyway? after all, the hair on my cheeseburger was most definitely a human hair. hey, we all belong to the same species, don't we? and the hair certainly appeared clean enough. i mean, it was shiny and lustrous and all that. and do you really think there were more germs on that hair than on the kitchen counter top where that hair and my burger first joined forces? i mean, c'mon now people. give your head a shake.
alright, now rather than a loose human hair, let's pretend that i had found... let's pretend i had found, say, a couple of mouse droppings on my burger the other day. now if that had been the case, chances are i would have most likely asked for that replacement burger. or perhaps i may have even passed on the replacement burger and demanded a full refund in lieu of a replacement burger. but that wasn't the case. no, i found a blond, detachable hair on my burger the other day. a clean hair. a human hair. that was the scenario i was faced with. those were the circumstances i was forced to confront.
"live a little, kids." - oise mentor
this should make the hair stand up on the back of your neck, assuming you have hair on the back of your neck: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8c7x2JD_j-0
p.s. grammar alert! grammar alert! can anyone spot the dangling participle in the first paragraph?
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
help me, help you... or how you can sum up a man's life with a $1.99 delete bin video from bmv
"i hated myself... no, i hated my place in the world." - jerry maguire (1996)
perhaps the only film that truly speaks to the essence of who i am is the motion picture classic jerry maguire. when a film (or a book) speaks to the essence of who you are, you often find yourself nodding in agreement at the screen (or the pages) while muttering, "yes. i understand that. that is so real. that is so true." such is the case with jerry maguire and me. the film was released in 1996 which was just about the time that i made the decision to leave my former career as a lawyer. over the years, many of my students have said to me, "hey sir. how come you stopped being a lawyer?" in hindsight, the best response to that query would have simply been: "just watch jerry maguire and you'll understand."
jerry maguire tells the story of a middle-aged sports agent played by tom cruise who, after suffering a crisis of conscience, is determined to carry on business in a manner more in tune with his newfound attitude towards life and relationships. "personal attention to others" and "behaving with integrity" become jerry's new catchphrases as he slowly learns that his sudden epiphany may run counter to the venerable rules and norms of modern society. more than anything though, jerry maguire tells the story of a man approaching a series of crossroads in both his personal and professional lives - what hollywood terms a "fork in the road" and what i have previously referred to as "moments," moments when important decisions must be made as to how to proceed in one's life.
in his first major decision, or moment, jerry elects to devote more attention to a reduced client roll in order to lend a personal touch which will hopefully provide him with a clearer perspective as to what is best for those he chooses to represent.
later, jerry is forced to choose between the lone client who has consistently shown allegiance to him and a roster full of athletes whose dedication seems to depend on nothing more than the size of their paycheques.
finally, jerry must decide between the safety and simplicity of bachelor life versus the concern and commitment necessary to maintain a healthy long-term relationship.
for me the film has always spoken to a need in my own life to be more productive in a manner that actually contributes something of importance to the greater good. as a lawyer, i always felt as though my skills were at the risk of being exploited by those in positions of authority so as to maintain their hold on power. and quite frankly, because so many of the powerful persons that i dealt with, indeed that i represented, were so unworthy of their standing and influence within the community, i concluded that i no longer wished to be a part of that status quo. instead, i determined that i preferred to be part of a system where i could encourage others to confront that system, and ultimately break down that system, but only so that they could subsequently rebuild that system in their own image.
and so it is jerry maguire that gives voice to those aspirations - to the spirit of contemplation and reformation and ultimately, progression. but jerry is not so much the voice of change as he is the agent of change for an even greater movement inspired by him. indeed as the film comes to an end, jerry's former clients are seen quizzing their agents as to why they can't be more like jerry in terms of their personal commitment to their clientele.
whenever i watch jerry maguire, i am reminded of the reasons i left the legal profession and what i promised myself i would attempt to do if i ever had the opportunity to make a difference in the grander scheme of things. and while that promise has yet to be fulfilled in my estimation, the journey towards that destination is well underway while the path thereto is gradually beginning to look a lot less cluttered.
and just as holden caulfield, the hypocritical self-loathing cynic from the catcher in the rye, could only experience true happiness in a glimpse of his younger sister's playful innocence (phoebe on the carousel), the closing moments of jerry maguire portray the titular protagonist finally achieving a sense of inner peace at the sight of his son expertly tossing a baseball during a leisurely stroll through the park with his family.
it is that scene, and that moment, which ultimately defines the metamorphosis that jerry maguire has undergone, for it is only then that jerry truly understands happiness lies not in a fat paycheque or a super bowl ring but rather in the smile that an eight-year-old kid can bring to his mother's face with the simple toss of a ball.
the true face of loyalty, the true face of jerry maguire: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTFJocQBLyE
perhaps the only film that truly speaks to the essence of who i am is the motion picture classic jerry maguire. when a film (or a book) speaks to the essence of who you are, you often find yourself nodding in agreement at the screen (or the pages) while muttering, "yes. i understand that. that is so real. that is so true." such is the case with jerry maguire and me. the film was released in 1996 which was just about the time that i made the decision to leave my former career as a lawyer. over the years, many of my students have said to me, "hey sir. how come you stopped being a lawyer?" in hindsight, the best response to that query would have simply been: "just watch jerry maguire and you'll understand."
jerry maguire tells the story of a middle-aged sports agent played by tom cruise who, after suffering a crisis of conscience, is determined to carry on business in a manner more in tune with his newfound attitude towards life and relationships. "personal attention to others" and "behaving with integrity" become jerry's new catchphrases as he slowly learns that his sudden epiphany may run counter to the venerable rules and norms of modern society. more than anything though, jerry maguire tells the story of a man approaching a series of crossroads in both his personal and professional lives - what hollywood terms a "fork in the road" and what i have previously referred to as "moments," moments when important decisions must be made as to how to proceed in one's life.
in his first major decision, or moment, jerry elects to devote more attention to a reduced client roll in order to lend a personal touch which will hopefully provide him with a clearer perspective as to what is best for those he chooses to represent.
later, jerry is forced to choose between the lone client who has consistently shown allegiance to him and a roster full of athletes whose dedication seems to depend on nothing more than the size of their paycheques.
finally, jerry must decide between the safety and simplicity of bachelor life versus the concern and commitment necessary to maintain a healthy long-term relationship.
for me the film has always spoken to a need in my own life to be more productive in a manner that actually contributes something of importance to the greater good. as a lawyer, i always felt as though my skills were at the risk of being exploited by those in positions of authority so as to maintain their hold on power. and quite frankly, because so many of the powerful persons that i dealt with, indeed that i represented, were so unworthy of their standing and influence within the community, i concluded that i no longer wished to be a part of that status quo. instead, i determined that i preferred to be part of a system where i could encourage others to confront that system, and ultimately break down that system, but only so that they could subsequently rebuild that system in their own image.
and so it is jerry maguire that gives voice to those aspirations - to the spirit of contemplation and reformation and ultimately, progression. but jerry is not so much the voice of change as he is the agent of change for an even greater movement inspired by him. indeed as the film comes to an end, jerry's former clients are seen quizzing their agents as to why they can't be more like jerry in terms of their personal commitment to their clientele.
whenever i watch jerry maguire, i am reminded of the reasons i left the legal profession and what i promised myself i would attempt to do if i ever had the opportunity to make a difference in the grander scheme of things. and while that promise has yet to be fulfilled in my estimation, the journey towards that destination is well underway while the path thereto is gradually beginning to look a lot less cluttered.
and just as holden caulfield, the hypocritical self-loathing cynic from the catcher in the rye, could only experience true happiness in a glimpse of his younger sister's playful innocence (phoebe on the carousel), the closing moments of jerry maguire portray the titular protagonist finally achieving a sense of inner peace at the sight of his son expertly tossing a baseball during a leisurely stroll through the park with his family.
it is that scene, and that moment, which ultimately defines the metamorphosis that jerry maguire has undergone, for it is only then that jerry truly understands happiness lies not in a fat paycheque or a super bowl ring but rather in the smile that an eight-year-old kid can bring to his mother's face with the simple toss of a ball.
the true face of loyalty, the true face of jerry maguire: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTFJocQBLyE
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
didn't see a thing
early this morning i had to dash across the road in order to pick up a few items from metro before work. as i was making my way through the ground floor lobby of my building, i unintentionally startled the twenty something concierge working the graveyard shift behind the counter. it appears that the after hours inactivity of the position may have gotten the better of our crack overnight watchman as he had been sound asleep at his post, sprawled out in his big, comfy chair. but when i tiptoed by the front desk in a futile attempt to avoid waking our trusty sentry from his sunrise snooze, lookout boy suddenly came to, then proceeded to hem and haw as the blood began to rush to his face. "uh, i was just resting my eyes," he pleaded. not a big deal, i replied. "i wasn't asleep or anything, just so you know." no, really. i completely understand. he was obviously embarrassed (as was i) and perhaps even a tad fearful that his job might somehow be in jeopardy if news of his late night slumber ever found its way to the condominium's almighty board of directors.
more importantly, this morning's episode got me thinking about all of those other potentially awkward situations that we stumble into over the course of our daily lives but ultimately seek to avoid so as not to cause unnecessary embarrassment to our fellow citizens.
hey, the middle-aged man sitting across from me on the yonge 97 has been picking his nose for the past half-an-hour or so as if there's a treasure chest hidden up there. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't see a thing, sir.
hey, the old lady standing next to me in the upset stomach aisle for the past minute or so has just decided to pass a little gas my way. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't hear a thing, ma'am.
hey, the grade nine couple with their lockers just down the hallway from my office have been joined at the lip for the past thirty seconds or so... and their technique is rather deplorable, i might add. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't see a thing, kids.
hey, the colleague at work who's been locked in the staff washroom for the better part of an hour or so has been singing a mostly unfortunate version of "don't stop believin'." wait, the door is opening. he's coming out now. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't hear a thing, comrade.
also not my preferred take on the journey classic, but interesting nonetheless. and call me crazy, but i'm thinking they're all the same guy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIoSTbPt_PI
"have you ever gotten the feeling that you aren't completely embarrassed yet, but you can already glimpse tomorrow's embarrassment?" - jerry maguire (1996)
more importantly, this morning's episode got me thinking about all of those other potentially awkward situations that we stumble into over the course of our daily lives but ultimately seek to avoid so as not to cause unnecessary embarrassment to our fellow citizens.
hey, the middle-aged man sitting across from me on the yonge 97 has been picking his nose for the past half-an-hour or so as if there's a treasure chest hidden up there. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't see a thing, sir.
hey, the old lady standing next to me in the upset stomach aisle for the past minute or so has just decided to pass a little gas my way. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't hear a thing, ma'am.
hey, the grade nine couple with their lockers just down the hallway from my office have been joined at the lip for the past thirty seconds or so... and their technique is rather deplorable, i might add. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't see a thing, kids.
hey, the colleague at work who's been locked in the staff washroom for the better part of an hour or so has been singing a mostly unfortunate version of "don't stop believin'." wait, the door is opening. he's coming out now. uh oh. eye contact. smile. uh, didn't hear a thing, comrade.
also not my preferred take on the journey classic, but interesting nonetheless. and call me crazy, but i'm thinking they're all the same guy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIoSTbPt_PI
"have you ever gotten the feeling that you aren't completely embarrassed yet, but you can already glimpse tomorrow's embarrassment?" - jerry maguire (1996)
Monday, June 14, 2010
ninety percent... perfect
so i just got through editing my latest entry, "stir crazy," for maybe the third time since i posted it earlier today. and i can assure you that i haven't come close to finishing my work on that piece, or any of my other 106 posts, for that matter. in fact, each and every day i peruse two or three of my older posts just to see if i can locate a word or a phrase that could use some attention. hey, i'm not ashamed to admit it: i'm a perfectionist. i demand it from both myself and from others. and i have yet to come across one of my blog entries that couldn't use a little touch up here and there.
so why this obsession with perfection? well, as for myself, i would never want my name associated with a product that didn't at least attempt to meet the highest standards of quality and excellence. anything short of an honest effort to be the best one can be would be like cheating oneself. and i don't like cheaters. it's just another form of dishonesty. and i don't like dishonesty, either.
as for perfection in others, i have often found that some individuals (but not all) can only hope to reach their fullest potential when they are pushed to their limits by an outside source - that is to say, when they are pushed by another. as an example, when i was younger, i was certainly never pushed to my limits by either myself or my fellow man and the results are obviously telling. that should also explain why i have never awarded a perfect score on an oral presentation or an essay assignment in school. i would hate to think that a 16-year-old could achieve perfection so early in life. after all, once you reach perfection, where can you go from there? where is there room to grow and develop?
but i do keep striving for perfection, knowing full well that i will never attain my goal. and i hope you do, too. striving, that is.
"i don't expect you to be perfect. but i do expect you to try." - johnsview village p.s. volleyball coach
the moulin rouge equivalent of the rent number cited below, and keep in mind that both films are based on the same source material: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvJpJl04cAI
p.s. hey, if i had my druthers, i would provide a 100% year-end exam testing students on their knowledge of the hills, the burger king sandwich of the day, excel gum flavours, the world's most popular baby names, old navy t-shirt styles, male pattern baldness, the musical genius that is hillary duff, my daughters' middle names... you know, all the important things in life.
and as for your comments regarding the events of the day and my failure to cover them in the pages of my blog, all i can say is this: letterman vs. leno. seinfeld vs. raymond. friends vs. home improvement. quite frankly, i would rather discuss the loose hair i found on my mcdonald's bacon double cheeseburger than politics in the middle east or how the blue jays need another starter to be competitive this season. another place. another time. with all due respect.
so why this obsession with perfection? well, as for myself, i would never want my name associated with a product that didn't at least attempt to meet the highest standards of quality and excellence. anything short of an honest effort to be the best one can be would be like cheating oneself. and i don't like cheaters. it's just another form of dishonesty. and i don't like dishonesty, either.
as for perfection in others, i have often found that some individuals (but not all) can only hope to reach their fullest potential when they are pushed to their limits by an outside source - that is to say, when they are pushed by another. as an example, when i was younger, i was certainly never pushed to my limits by either myself or my fellow man and the results are obviously telling. that should also explain why i have never awarded a perfect score on an oral presentation or an essay assignment in school. i would hate to think that a 16-year-old could achieve perfection so early in life. after all, once you reach perfection, where can you go from there? where is there room to grow and develop?
but i do keep striving for perfection, knowing full well that i will never attain my goal. and i hope you do, too. striving, that is.
"i don't expect you to be perfect. but i do expect you to try." - johnsview village p.s. volleyball coach
the moulin rouge equivalent of the rent number cited below, and keep in mind that both films are based on the same source material: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvJpJl04cAI
p.s. hey, if i had my druthers, i would provide a 100% year-end exam testing students on their knowledge of the hills, the burger king sandwich of the day, excel gum flavours, the world's most popular baby names, old navy t-shirt styles, male pattern baldness, the musical genius that is hillary duff, my daughters' middle names... you know, all the important things in life.
and as for your comments regarding the events of the day and my failure to cover them in the pages of my blog, all i can say is this: letterman vs. leno. seinfeld vs. raymond. friends vs. home improvement. quite frankly, i would rather discuss the loose hair i found on my mcdonald's bacon double cheeseburger than politics in the middle east or how the blue jays need another starter to be competitive this season. another place. another time. with all due respect.
stir crazy
so i'm almost finished another marathon marking session - five so far today, more than eighty in total - and i'm starting to feel the effects of too much reading and not enough down time. i have to say that it sure ain't easy concentrating on your 21st mission statement or your 43rd target market analysis or your 68th finance plan, all within the same ten day stretch. and so as i approach the end of yet another year of summatives, i am literally itching to get done so that i can move on to... while, so that i can move on to more than eighty accounting exams that have yet to be marked as the big day is not until this wednesday. and as for the itching, i'm hardly exaggerating or relying on my usual dose of hyperbole when i describe my impatience. for as i reach towards the bottom of the pile, i begin to picture the precise moment where i can finally lay down my red pen and clear my head of the year's lesson plans and essay assignments and unit tests. as i near the bottom of the attendance list, i begin to ponder the wave of relief that will soon sweep over me once that last transparent duotang is tucked away inside the cardboard box perched atop my swivel chair. as i close in on the final business proposal of the year, i begin to dream of a world without summatives where i can let down my hair (so to speak), kick off my $8 plastic sandals, pull up a chaise lounge next to our eternally-broken pool and just breathe. inhale. exhale. inhale. exhale. ahhh.
the song i'm listening to as i type these words, and now officially my third favorite number from the musical, although i don't really think that roger's contribution was particularly helpful (to the song that is, as opposed to mimi's recovery): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrE7mh7Emj4&feature=related
the song i'm listening to as i type these words, and now officially my third favorite number from the musical, although i don't really think that roger's contribution was particularly helpful (to the song that is, as opposed to mimi's recovery): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrE7mh7Emj4&feature=related
Sunday, June 13, 2010
non sequitur
while i was putting seven to bed earlier tonight, she asked if she could read a book to herself for a few minutes. pollyanna i think. she said that it helps her fall asleep. i said why not. after all, i am supposed to be encouraging literacy development amongst my offspring, ain't i? and early bedtimes. two hours later, when i re-entered her bedroom to check on her, seven was still wide awake and still reading that same book. i was even more surprised when i asked her how much she had read that evening and she replied that she was in the middle of chapter nine. chapter nine? i haven't willingly read nine chapters of a book since... well, since i was nine.
which reminds me. on friday while i was invigilating (uh, supervising) an exam at school, i couldn't help but notice the selection of books the kids are required to read in their senior english classes. the novels and plays, mostly classics, were strewn across the ledge of the classroom where i was perched for most of the exam. what amazed me though was that the titles haven't changed at all in the more than 20 years since i was required to read them as a high school student myself. titles like macbeth, catcher in the rye, great expectations, animal farm, 1984, lord of the flies, clockwork orange, the great gatsby, slaughterhouse five et al. now don't get me wrong. some of those titles represent the highest achievements in modern and traditional literature. (ok, so maybe one title stands out from the others, but the rest ain't exactly chopped liver.) but that got me thinking about what else has and hasn't changed since i was a freshman at t.s.s. in thornhill, ontario. and then it happened. when the exam had ended, and in the midst of my reminiscing about the good ol' days, i overheard one of the kids say to another, "hey, you wanna hang at dufferin mall?"
um, i used to hang out at the mall when i wore a younger man's clothes, as well. no, really. i did. and i was pretty good at it, too. after all, i had a lot of experience in terms of hangin' out at the mall. and not just at one mall, either. because i moved from house to house quite a bit as a kid, i got to experience just about every major shopping centre within both the north york and thornhill city limits.
first there was towne & country mall (since renamed centrepoint mall) at the corner of yonge and steeles. i remember that i used to take the steeles east 53 bus to the mall every saturday with my best bud at the time. we were maybe 10 or 11 back then. we would hang out in the food court, pretend to shop for clothes and maybe try to sneak into the movies every now and again.
later i would choose to hang at the more upscale bayview village near bayview and sheppard. i would take the bayview 11 bus, usually with a group of friends, and spend the entire day doing whatever it was that 13 or 14-year-old dudes would do back in those days. as far as i can recall, we would hang out at the food court, pretend to shop for clothes and maybe try to sneak into the movies every now and again. hmmm.
then there was thornhill square near bayview and john. i could actually hoof it there from either home or school as the mall was only a few minutes walking distance from each. the now-deceased mall was recently featured in the modern horror remake of dawn of the dead with sarah polley and mr. e from school. but most notably, i would acquire my first job at thornhill square, namely at the fruit and vegetable stand, which might explain why even to this day i can still tell the difference between a spartan apple and a gala apple. i also broke up with a girl at that mall, got into a fight at that mall, and was fired for the first time at that mall (from the aforementioned fruit and vegetable stand, no less.)
and finally, the shopping centre that stands out as the place which best defines the person i am today: i speak of none other than the promenade mall located just north of toronto proper. it was at the promenade mall where i often sought refuge after a trying day at university or law school. at 17 i left my old man's home and moved into my mom's condo set just across the parking lot from the new mall. my first year at york and my last year at osgoode were not the best years of my life, so having a place like the promenade within arm's reach provided a much-needed sanctuary where i could unwind, usually alone, and collect my thoughts in relative peace and air-conditioned comfort. not to mention the fact that the mall featured a gap clothing store which, of course, introduced me to a whole new way of looking at the universe. but that's another story.
"a good friend is someone we can count on, as well as being so much more. a friend is someone with whom we can relax and just hang out, have fun and share our innermost thoughts--deep dark secrets, lofty and noble goals, or our hopes, joys, and fears. a good friend allows you a safe space to share your deepest thoughts and needs--without worry of being judged, criticized or made to feel silly for feeling the way you do. friends cheer each other on, laugh and cry together, and just plain commiserate and listen to each other. that's why friends are friends..." - bettie and jennifer leigh youngs
song title is the most oft-quoted response to the ubiquitous mall cop's query, "so what are you kids hangin' around here for?": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0NYKWLMgx0
p.s. yorkdale is part of my present, not part of my past
which reminds me. on friday while i was invigilating (uh, supervising) an exam at school, i couldn't help but notice the selection of books the kids are required to read in their senior english classes. the novels and plays, mostly classics, were strewn across the ledge of the classroom where i was perched for most of the exam. what amazed me though was that the titles haven't changed at all in the more than 20 years since i was required to read them as a high school student myself. titles like macbeth, catcher in the rye, great expectations, animal farm, 1984, lord of the flies, clockwork orange, the great gatsby, slaughterhouse five et al. now don't get me wrong. some of those titles represent the highest achievements in modern and traditional literature. (ok, so maybe one title stands out from the others, but the rest ain't exactly chopped liver.) but that got me thinking about what else has and hasn't changed since i was a freshman at t.s.s. in thornhill, ontario. and then it happened. when the exam had ended, and in the midst of my reminiscing about the good ol' days, i overheard one of the kids say to another, "hey, you wanna hang at dufferin mall?"
um, i used to hang out at the mall when i wore a younger man's clothes, as well. no, really. i did. and i was pretty good at it, too. after all, i had a lot of experience in terms of hangin' out at the mall. and not just at one mall, either. because i moved from house to house quite a bit as a kid, i got to experience just about every major shopping centre within both the north york and thornhill city limits.
first there was towne & country mall (since renamed centrepoint mall) at the corner of yonge and steeles. i remember that i used to take the steeles east 53 bus to the mall every saturday with my best bud at the time. we were maybe 10 or 11 back then. we would hang out in the food court, pretend to shop for clothes and maybe try to sneak into the movies every now and again.
later i would choose to hang at the more upscale bayview village near bayview and sheppard. i would take the bayview 11 bus, usually with a group of friends, and spend the entire day doing whatever it was that 13 or 14-year-old dudes would do back in those days. as far as i can recall, we would hang out at the food court, pretend to shop for clothes and maybe try to sneak into the movies every now and again. hmmm.
then there was thornhill square near bayview and john. i could actually hoof it there from either home or school as the mall was only a few minutes walking distance from each. the now-deceased mall was recently featured in the modern horror remake of dawn of the dead with sarah polley and mr. e from school. but most notably, i would acquire my first job at thornhill square, namely at the fruit and vegetable stand, which might explain why even to this day i can still tell the difference between a spartan apple and a gala apple. i also broke up with a girl at that mall, got into a fight at that mall, and was fired for the first time at that mall (from the aforementioned fruit and vegetable stand, no less.)
and finally, the shopping centre that stands out as the place which best defines the person i am today: i speak of none other than the promenade mall located just north of toronto proper. it was at the promenade mall where i often sought refuge after a trying day at university or law school. at 17 i left my old man's home and moved into my mom's condo set just across the parking lot from the new mall. my first year at york and my last year at osgoode were not the best years of my life, so having a place like the promenade within arm's reach provided a much-needed sanctuary where i could unwind, usually alone, and collect my thoughts in relative peace and air-conditioned comfort. not to mention the fact that the mall featured a gap clothing store which, of course, introduced me to a whole new way of looking at the universe. but that's another story.
"a good friend is someone we can count on, as well as being so much more. a friend is someone with whom we can relax and just hang out, have fun and share our innermost thoughts--deep dark secrets, lofty and noble goals, or our hopes, joys, and fears. a good friend allows you a safe space to share your deepest thoughts and needs--without worry of being judged, criticized or made to feel silly for feeling the way you do. friends cheer each other on, laugh and cry together, and just plain commiserate and listen to each other. that's why friends are friends..." - bettie and jennifer leigh youngs
song title is the most oft-quoted response to the ubiquitous mall cop's query, "so what are you kids hangin' around here for?": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0NYKWLMgx0
p.s. yorkdale is part of my present, not part of my past
don't read and rock
i'm trying to make the point that it is very difficult to concentrate on your studies when you are listening to music in the background. i am conducting this experiment because i have been told by many of my students that they often prepare for tests and exams by sitting in their bedrooms or at the library with a pair of headphones on blasting tunes from their ipods while they attempt to memorize the material from the year. i have always believed that it is virtually impossible to focus one's attention on one's studies if one is distracted by an outside sound source or visual image, like loud music or the television or facebook. and so this post is being prepared while i sit in my living room with my earphones on blasting the foo fighters' single "best of you" at maximun volume. i will not attempt to edit this entry when the song comes to an end - i will simply allow you the opportunity to judge my writing abilities while they were carried out with the benefit of musical accompaniment - namely dave grohl and his band. there. the song is over. how did i do? can you make any sense of what i've written? because this is your brain on music.
p.s. spellcheck only found one error. can you find it?
the source of my distraction: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_L4Rixya64
p.p.s. uh, good luck tomorrow, rs.
p.s. spellcheck only found one error. can you find it?
the source of my distraction: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_L4Rixya64
p.p.s. uh, good luck tomorrow, rs.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
the first song i ever learned on the piano
the waitress never provides a fork unless the customer asks for one. usually i ask for one. but tonight i felt a little more adventurous than usual. tonight i was gonna give it another try. after all, when in rome... well, you know the rest. i had ordered the bento box. i chose chicken teriyaki as the main course. i was given a bit of a reprieve when the miso soup arrived. not exactly an opportunity to show off my skills just yet. next was the salad. ok, here was my chance to shine. i removed the wooden chopsticks from the wrapper. still fused together at one end, i attempted to snap the sticks in two. unfortunately, i was unable to generate a clean break. fail. the newly-separated chopstick twins looked more like a cracked wishbone than a pair of eating utensils. not a good omen. but still i soldiered on. now firmly positioned in my right hand, i began to manoeuvre the slender sticks with some hesitation. i latched onto the widest chunk of lettuce inside the wooden bowl. and squeeze. as i guided the dressing-soaked leaf to my lips, i lost hold of my prey. the lettuce fell back into the bowl. i tried again. but once again, i was met with resistance. this time, i couldn't even seem to get a decent grip on my target. eventually i was able to raise the lump of lettuce by balancing the plant on the ends of my chopsticks. not exactly what i had in mind but still a moral victory given that i was now officially digesting a menu item. when the maki arrived, i breathed a sigh of relief. hard to mess that up. big, sticky globs of rice and cucumber. the first one went into my mouth without any difficulty. the next two put up a little fight so i was forced to stab them with a solitary stick in order to facilitate feasting. within a few minutes the bento box finally appeared, and so, the main event of the evening could now begin. oddly-shaped and drenched in slippery sauce, i struggled at first with the teriyaki. similar hardships arose with respect to the oily, misshapen tempura. the asymmetrical dumplings, practically swimming in soya sauce, were a nightmare. and the rice... ugh, don't even get me going about the rice. a shovel would have been easier to manipulate with the rice.
ok, so here's the thing. i've been shown how to chow down with chopsticks on more than a few occasions over the past thirty or so years. when i taught esl full-time, i broke bread with dozens of chinese and japanese and korean kids who basically lectured me on the do's and dont's of chopstick technique. furthermore, i am not without coordination in my hands and digits. my fingers are nimble. my fingers are dexterous. my fingers are agile. so why i still have trouble negotiating a pair of chopsticks is beyond me. who knows? maybe this was meant to be my lot in life. maybe i was never intended to master the finer points of alternative dining instruments. maybe a knife and a fork and a spoon are as good as it gets for me. eh, i can live with that.
one of the most famous dance numbers in celluloid history: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKrZiddRphw&feature=related
p.s. now that the first match is out of the way, i can finally throw my undivided support behind both america and england in their next two contests. given my summative marking obligations, today i was forced to view the proceedings from the relative safety and comfort of my stately living room. that said, i can't wait to take in next friday's england-algeria match in a more appropriate setting - an open-air dining establishment in the heart of little britain near yonge and eglinton. with all due respect to my italian and portuguese friends, you haven't lived until you've spent ninety minutes yelling yourself hoarse amongst a roomful of slightly mad english football supporters. rule, britannia!
ok, so here's the thing. i've been shown how to chow down with chopsticks on more than a few occasions over the past thirty or so years. when i taught esl full-time, i broke bread with dozens of chinese and japanese and korean kids who basically lectured me on the do's and dont's of chopstick technique. furthermore, i am not without coordination in my hands and digits. my fingers are nimble. my fingers are dexterous. my fingers are agile. so why i still have trouble negotiating a pair of chopsticks is beyond me. who knows? maybe this was meant to be my lot in life. maybe i was never intended to master the finer points of alternative dining instruments. maybe a knife and a fork and a spoon are as good as it gets for me. eh, i can live with that.
one of the most famous dance numbers in celluloid history: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKrZiddRphw&feature=related
p.s. now that the first match is out of the way, i can finally throw my undivided support behind both america and england in their next two contests. given my summative marking obligations, today i was forced to view the proceedings from the relative safety and comfort of my stately living room. that said, i can't wait to take in next friday's england-algeria match in a more appropriate setting - an open-air dining establishment in the heart of little britain near yonge and eglinton. with all due respect to my italian and portuguese friends, you haven't lived until you've spent ninety minutes yelling yourself hoarse amongst a roomful of slightly mad english football supporters. rule, britannia!
Friday, June 11, 2010
she was the man
my seven-year-old forced me to sit through most of she's the man with amanda bynes airing earlier tonight on ytv. besides the fact that my advanced age made it difficult for me to keep up with the twelfth night inspired plot, the film also contributed to quite the sense of irony this evening. why is that, you say? well, just 20 minutes or so before the start of the broadcast, my daughter and i were joined in our building's elevator by one of our more interesting neighbours. "interesting" because she, well, how shall i put this... interesting because she used to be a he. and when i say "used to be," i mean as recently as a few months ago... when seven still thought of her as a him. (the transformation, i should point out, is still in its preliminary stages.) anyhow, when seven and i stepped off the elevator, the interrogation commenced almost immediately. "daddy, why does our neighbour look so different now?" uh, different? what do you mean by different, honey? "daddy, he looks like a girl now." a girl? he looks like a girl? "yes, daddy. he looks like a girl now. how come?" well, it's... it's a little complicated. you see, our neighbour has gone through a bit of a change of late. "a change? what kind of change?" well, it's... it's like this. our neighbour is no longer a he. "what do you mean no longer a he? what is he then?" well, he is no longer a he because he... well, i suppose he is now a she. "huh?" you see, technically our neighbour is no longer a man. technically, he's... well, he's a woman now. she's a woman now. a woman. (sound of crickets chirping)
at that stage, i thought i was gonna be on the hook for a lengthy (yet delicate) discussion on the finer points of biology and anatomy and physiology and the human reproductive system. but instead, seven seemed surprisingly unfazed by the whole affair. in fact, her subsequent line of questioning leaned more towards a rather fascinating illustration of gender stereotyping amongst young people. "but daddy, if he's a she, then how come she still has an adam's apple?" adam's apple? she has an adam's apple? "and how come her fingers were so thick?" fingers? her fingers are thick? "and how come her pointy finger was shorter than her ring finger?" pointy finger? you mean her index finger? "and how come her eyelashes were so short?" eyelashes? she has short eyelashes? "and how come her voice was so deep? and her feet were so big? and her..." honey, honey, honey. let's just go home and see what's on ytv.
proof that if you wait long enough, every song ever recorded will eventually appear on youtube - this being my favourite number from 1985 for reasons i don't want to get into right now, and further evidence that musical tastes mature over time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-lHQa1pbBU
p.s. tomorrow's match between england and america will put my divided loyalties to the test. but once the contest is over, i can root for not just one but two squads all the way to the cup final.
at that stage, i thought i was gonna be on the hook for a lengthy (yet delicate) discussion on the finer points of biology and anatomy and physiology and the human reproductive system. but instead, seven seemed surprisingly unfazed by the whole affair. in fact, her subsequent line of questioning leaned more towards a rather fascinating illustration of gender stereotyping amongst young people. "but daddy, if he's a she, then how come she still has an adam's apple?" adam's apple? she has an adam's apple? "and how come her fingers were so thick?" fingers? her fingers are thick? "and how come her pointy finger was shorter than her ring finger?" pointy finger? you mean her index finger? "and how come her eyelashes were so short?" eyelashes? she has short eyelashes? "and how come her voice was so deep? and her feet were so big? and her..." honey, honey, honey. let's just go home and see what's on ytv.
proof that if you wait long enough, every song ever recorded will eventually appear on youtube - this being my favourite number from 1985 for reasons i don't want to get into right now, and further evidence that musical tastes mature over time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-lHQa1pbBU
p.s. tomorrow's match between england and america will put my divided loyalties to the test. but once the contest is over, i can root for not just one but two squads all the way to the cup final.
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