Some parts are meat

Ok, I turned off the captcha for comments on my blog because, frankly, I hate typing them in when I leave comments, or increasingly, do ANYTHING online.  (aside:  I'll bet there are some clever AI programmers out there doing Turing tests on captcha solving programs).

As a result, I get a few strange anonymous comments from time to time.  Whatevs, gives me the impression that someone actually reads this.

But what gets me are the seeming randomness of these quotes (c.f. Turing test).  I understand that they are spam, but I can't for the life of me figure out how they propose to work.

Let's take some examples.  The first one is this:

Sustain this wonderful text, went ahead and added to my chrome feed.

Ok.  Maybe someone's learning English and used Google translate to tell me to keep writing these wonderful posts (sustain)??  Yay to my ego.

But then there's these next two, in succession:

Car and truck insurance plan seriously isn't unbelievably unique. Dependent which always state level you live around, it should indeed be a good slighter or maybe a better section of your budget rather than your friends across condition strains. What is the minimal for one's state? I've discovered this internet site handy to determine low-cost auto insurance. I am very happy be here.

And

Lot of information about how to get cheap auto insurance? Getting your first car insurance policy may not be a priority but it should be. Car insurance protects one of your first investments, your car. But car insurance can be complicated and often new car insurance shoppers fail to compare car insurance rates and in turn fail to reap the financial benefits of finding the best and affordable car insurance available to them. Information here is great. Love to come back again. 

I am really glad that these people (read, one person) (read, one program) are happy to be here.  By here, do they mean the Internets?  My Blog?  The Democratic Republic of the Congo?

Now, suppose I was really interested in buying car insurance, because, after all, it should be a priority.  How can I use these random posts (on a blog about the use of shit on TV) to access the broker they are promoting?  There's no link in the text, the commenter is "anonymous".  There's no mention of brand at all.  In the first one, dude discovered a handy Internet site that will get me the minimal for the state I live around.  (what policy covers my various mental states?)

Also, would you seriously buy car insurance from someone who can't write proper English?  (In Communist Russia, insurance drives YOU!)  Although, it does look like my insurance seller has managed to graduate from their first TOEFL class between comments 1 and 2.  At least #2 makes more sense.

Wait - I just got it - I wonder if I had monetized my blog (p.s., how laughable is that?) - it would now be pulling in car insurance ads.  Maybe the random spamming of letters tells adsense to pull their specific ad.  (I'm pretty sure I'm right on this one).  Maybe I should monetize and see.  But The Facebook is too cool and I don't even know what it is yet (sorry, watched The Social Network last night).

Which reminds me - do you remember when that virus/spam went around a couple of years ago that had as a subject line "I love you" with an infected zip file attached?  I remember hearing on the news about how some senior executives and top level government officials were infected.  Which makes me think:  do I really trust my elected representative when they gladly open an email from an unknown source that says "I love you"?

Maybe it's lonely at the top.  I only open "I love you" emails from my wife.  And maybe sometimes my mistresses.

Eponymous

One thing I love is when lyrics in a song are the title of the album.

Now, I'm not talking about the cop-out, where the chorus of the song is the name of the song and is also the name of the album (see Fully Completely by the Hip).  I'm talking about those obscure lyrics, when, once you hear them, you can be all "Hence the title".

Some notable examples:

Metric - Sick Muse - "All the blonds/blinds? are/of? fantasies"
Metric (again!) - I.O.U. - "Old world underground, where are you now?"
U2 - Bullet the Blue Sky - "In the locust wind, comes a rattle and hum" (Rattle & Hum version only applies)
Beastie Boys - Get it Together - "Like Ma Bell, I've got the ill communication"
Dave Matthews Band - The Best of What's Around - "playing under the table and dreaming"
I Mother Earth - Three Days Old  - "the scenery and fish, they're bad" (also wins for being a stupid lyric)
Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit - "oh well, whatever, nevermind"

So go out, dear friends, and relish those rare moments when a band doesn't default to a silly song title as the album title.  But really, p.s., who listens to albums anymore anyway?

Weekly cooking - Australian special

In honour of Greg's birthday, we're doing an all-Australian cooking special today.  This past weekend, the Heart-Ds had a Christmas party at their house.  As a special surprise, Dani asked Kathryn and I to put together a spread of Australian food to surprise Greg.

No problem!

We got some pointers from Dani and went to school researching some recipes.  In the end, here's what we made:

Mini Meat Pies - How can you possibly go wrong here.  Meat, onions, gravy - cooked inside pastry.

Peppered Camembert Dampers - Again - totally good.  Think Australian bannock, plus pepper, plus Camembert.  Whilst making the dough, I didn't think that there was enough pepper.  When it came time to knead the dough, I realized that, yes indeed, there was enough before I added a ton more.

Cranberry and White Chocolate Anzac biscuits - These are like coconut oatmeal cookies, with white chocolate on the top (or rather, bottom).  Excellent because the chocolate covers the burnt bits.

Cheese and Vegemite Scrolls - These used the quintessential Australian ingredient.  It was thick, brown and smelled nasty.  But, when combined with cheese and pastry, it tasted really good.

And finally, the kicker:

Fairy Bread - And yes, I printed this recipe.  If you're like me, and the thought of Battenburg cake makes you salivate and not nauseate.  (Sorry, it rhymed) - then you will probably like this.  Otherwise, give it a pass.

Anyway, here's the spread.  I think Greg was appreciative.

Dude, where's my car?

I hate the Library Parkade.

First off, it's ugly and claustrophobic.  Seriously, would it have really cost that much more to dig down another foot or two so it doesn't feel like the roof is crushing you with its gargantuan weight?  Also, there are not wide lanes here - if you make a mistake and go the wrong way, it's a 20-point turn to get back facing the other way.  And back to the ugliness (which, really, is systemic in Edmonton) - I do like how they tried to pretty it up with some lame-ass technicolour bison paintings on the walls.

Also, what's with the level naming.  P1, P2, P2S, P2N, TPS (report).  Good thing I have excellent spacial awareness and can visualize, from street level, exactly when I'm standing on top of where my car is parked.  Also also, it's like a labyrinth down there (dance, magic dance) - multiple entrances that lead to parts of the Parkade that are seemingly inaccessible to other parts.  I like the Russian Roulette of where you're going to come out when you exit as well.  Side story on the exits - I do love the sign that says "Lights?" on the wall as you exit.  I always expect (and am disappointed by the lack of) their counterpart signs - "Camera?" and "Action?"

Anyway, my biggest issue with the Parkade is the stupidity of the exiting process.  They pay some dude (read douche) minimum wage to sit in a booth and take cash only upon exiting.  Have you ever been to an event downtown and then waited for 40 minutes in an endless line of cars and carbon monoxide while dude (douche) figures out how to break a $20?  I swear that I've had to pay for an extra 1/2 hour while waiting to leave the place.  I don't understand why they don't get with the 1980s and have pay stations that you visit before getting to your car.

The other night, we went downtown for the lighting of the Christmas Tree in Churchill Square.  It was a cool fireworks display, but we did have to sit through Lynda Steele and Nicola Crosbie doing an extended mix of news banter.  Wow, that was awful.  Anyway, it took us half an hour to get out of the Parkade.  When we got to dude (douche) - our total charge for parking???  ONE DOLLAR!  Seriously?  It was worth someone's time for ONE DOLLAR?

I wish all parkades were like the Volkswagen parking garage, which makes me think of what parking would be like in the Matrix.

Landmarks

I did it!  This is post 69 on my blog.  Woot.

In honour of the momentous occasion, watch this bodacious clip from an equally bodacious movie.  P.S., when this movie came out, I was too little to get the joke - I wondered and wondered for years how the future Bill & Ted knew the right number.



Regular programming will resume shortly.

So Happy It's Thursday

There was an article in the Journal the other day that quoted a source who mentioned something about "all this sh*t", except it wasn't as cleverly censored as I have it here.  This caught Kathryn and I off guard - is it okay to print that now?  I know that newspapers are written in a grade 3 - 8 level (depending on what source you believe) - and I guess, to most grade 8 kids, that's just about the only language they know... (but I digress).

Then we reflected that Strombo and guests quite often use the word, un-bleeped on his show.  Of course, it runs at 11 pm, which is waaay past the watershed.  (P.S. good on Canada for giving us an extra hour of nudity and coarse language a day over the US).

That night, we watched Being Erica, another Canadian TV show (which, by the way, is pretty good for CanCon, except the episodes where they drive in their new Ford Fiestas right before cutting to a commercial for the car).  They used the word twice (!) in one episode. I tried to find some decision by the Canadian Broadcast Standards Council indicating that you're now allowed to broadcast / print the word - but couldn't find much.

Not that I'm really complaining - we watch a lot of HBO shows, where really, anything goes.  Also, do you remember when Dr. Greene died on ER, and how momentous it was that he swore during that episode?  Oh memory lane...

Maybe the Canadian media producers are taking Lindsay Blackett's quote about Canadian TV being sh*t out of context.

Weekly cooking - crepes Suzette

The girls wanted crepes for dinner as part of their fun week off school, so, as the good parents we are, we made them for them.

Then I decided to try making crepes Suzette.  I was seriously impressed with myself with this one.

We'll start with a recipe for crepe batter:

4 eggs
2 cups flour,
2 1/4 cups milk
1/4 cup margarine, melted

Blend, refrigerate for 1 hour.  Or, if you're our family, you're in too much of a rush to refrigerate:  use immediately.

I based the Suzette part on this recipe - but really, who has the time to make the orange butter beforehand.  Screw that.  Here's what I did:

Melt some margarine in a pan on high-ish heat.  Add some orange juice and a few tablespoons of sugar.  Combine all of that and boil it up, stirring constantly until it thickens a bit and turns a little syrupy.

Then, add the crepes.  You'll probably only be able to fit a couple in the pan.  Fold them up into quarters, making sure they're saturated with the syrup.

Next comes the fun part.  Add some orange liqueur.  I poured it over the back of a spoon without really understanding why this is necessary.  This tastes way better if you've stolen it from a friend's house.  (yeah, shout out Lovedays).  Depending on the heat in the pan, and if you have a gas stove or not, you may or may not need a barbecue lighter to ignite the alcohol.

Once it's flaming away, spoon some of the sauce over the crepes.  Wait until that bad boy stops burning and serve - drizzling the yumminess over the crepes.

Next step, text your wife to tell her how awesome you are.

Gossip, the musical

Last night I had a crazy dream.  This in itself is not a strange occurrence - I usually have a crazy dream every night - maybe I'll write about lucid dreaming sometime in the future.

This dream was crazier than most though.  In my dream, I was composing a musical.  Here's the general plot line.  If Andrew Lloyd Webber is reading this, feel free to use my idea, as long as the royalty cheques start flooding in.

The musical starts with a group of students at an arts school.  Everyone has big Hollywood dreams.  Cue a big musical number (in which I was designing sets, writing lyrics, choreographing dances, etc).  All of the students but one realize that they aren't going to make it big, and decide to go to journalism school instead.  (That's a logic progression, right?  Stupid subconscious).

Anyway, in my brain, this was an awesome musical number... but then I remember thinking to myself (my conscious speaking to my subconscious) that the staging was less Jubilee and more Jubilations - whatever - those shows still make money for the author.

Our protagonist, Jack Bramble, becomes a gossip columnist, mostly because he was smitten with a former classmate and now Hollywood ingénue, who shall remain nameless because I didn't dream up a good name.  The story was filled with unrequited love and jealousy on the part of Jack, who used his gossip column to denigrate would-be suitors of the young starlet.  There may have been paparazzi-induced murders as well.  (Think Sweeny Todd).

Anyway, the second act of the play turns things on its head, as Jack becomes an advice columnist, like Dear Abby.  The young starlet, becoming jaded with the Hollywood lifestyle, writes for advice on how to deal with the hollowness of Hollywood relationships.  Jack responds, drawing from his own hollow experience, without realizing that he's writing to the source of his sorrow.

Unfortunately, I woke up before the ending, so I didn't get to find out if this was a tragic love story like Romeo and Juliet, or more of a comedy, like Clueless.

Maybe tonight, I'll get the rest of the story.  I'll be sure to take my blank music sheets with me to bed.

Like a virgin

Madonna aside, today was one of those special days.  At breakfast time, it was the day when the new peanut butter jar got opened.

I love these days... everything's so fresh and new... with that machine-extruded PB nipple (for lack of a better word), just waiting for the first kiss of the butter knife.

A few months ago, this event was trumped by the ultimate in newness experiences - not only was the peanut butter new, but also the Nutella, and ALSO the soap in my shower.  This was a red letter, blue moon, once in a lifetime day.  I felt that I could do no wrong that day.

But come on, who can't resist opening a new bar of soap... first you have to open that little wrinkly package, then take off the little paper (aside:  what's the paper for, to make sure the soap is clean?).  Then, you have a nice bar with crisp edges and a hefty weight to it.  It's specially great because for the past week, you've been trying to lather up with a bunch of mashed together soap-chuds you found at on the floor of the shower.  Not fun.

Take a look at this - gives me shivers!

Another aside - can you imagine how much better the experience must have been when you had to open a BOX (!) to get your soap.

But back to today, with the peanut butter.  I found this image, which summed up my feelings.

Buy our product!

So, we actually watched some TV last week that had commercials in it (you can make your own guesses as to where our TV normally comes from).

I realized that there's a style of commercials that really drives me nuts.  It's those ones where you have a person saying a part of a sentence, and then it cuts to a different person who finishes the sentence.  Case in point is the ad for Ford (I think) that has this Microsoft-powered gizmo that can connect your electronic crap to your car.  "I can read email" ... "from my grandmother"  (author's note - quotes may or may not actually appear in the commercial).  The "climax" of the ad is when a bunch of people say the same word at the end of the sentence:  "It's like"... "magic" ... "magic" .... "MAGIC" ... "CAN YOU BELIEVE THE EFFING MAGIC GOING ON HERE???"

But on the positive side, one thing I love about commercials is when the same actor is in commercials for different products.  This is even better when both commercials air in the same commercial break.  My current favourite is the poor dude in the Benylin ad who's taking a sick day.  First off, he's clearly the one they make fun of at work, because he's average looking, whereas his co-workers are sharp-suit-wearers with perfect hair.  They call him to harass him at home instead of looking for the file on the network drive, like any normal person would do.

Next up, he's in a Scotiabank ad where he's much richer than he thinks.  Can't remember the details of this ad, except he does a really lame clap-like hand action at the end.

The reason I like when this happens is that I can make up my own backstory that links the commercials together.  I think this poor dude was drowning in debt, working 80 hours a week to support his addiction to aerosol cheese products.  He gets a hard time at work from his more attractive colleagues, and then a hard time at home because of the mountain of bills.  His wife books an appointment with the bank so they can address their debt, but he can't take the time off work.  So, he fakes being sick, pretends to suck back the Benylin, then heads to the bank with his wife.  It all works out in the end, because the banker finds money for him to enter rehab for his cheese-huffing problem.  Also, while he was at the bank, a disgruntled former employee goes on a killing spree in his office, picking out those who don't know about the network drive.

Maybe I need something better to do with my time.  Pass the EZ-Cheez.

Childhood memories

The other day, I got to thinking about childhood memories and tried to think about the earliest memory that I had.  I came up with this one:

I have a hazy memory about driving in the car with my mom.  Pretty sure we were on the Whitemud, going down the hill to cross the bridge over Snow Valley (or Rainbow Valley, as we called it at our house, since none of us were Super-G aficionados).  Surprisingly (or really not, if you're in my family) - the car broke down.  I think it was the old Pontiac Acadian that my sister later retired by smashing in to a parked car (who does that? - sorry Colleen).  Anyway - it was raining, and I think my mom had to walk home, carrying me in the rain.  Remember, this was before cell phones - even those giant clunky ones that had a cord like in the movie Twins.

Whenever I think of this memory, I often wonder if I really remember it, or if I've been told the story so many times that I've fabricated the memory.  I think I was only 3 or 4 at the time, which makes me think that the whole thing is a fabrication of my imagination, or was embellished in the re-telling by my mom.  What probably really happened was that on a sunny afternoon, the car didn't start while sitting in our garage, and my mom had to hold my hand as we walked back to the house, instead of going to McDonald's for some Styrofoam-en-wrapped goodness.  Notice that the broken car thing was still there - that's the only detail that I'm sure is true, given our family's car history.

The other memory that comes to mind was the time my sisters got some Halloween-like face paint.  They all went off and painted their faces all girly-like, or maybe like some forgotten 80's gimmicky band - I dunno.  ANYWAY, I was probably 7 or so at the time, and I really wanted to have my face painted like the Hulk.  This was in the days before the god-awful CGI-generated hulk, when you had Lou Ferrigno looking like this:

Behold his awesomeness!

Anyway, dad got the face paint and got to work.  After a few minutes, which, in retrospect, must have been terrible to him, knowing what I know as a dad of girls who want makeup, nail polish, etc.  (I mean, I have absolutely no skills in this department - which I guess is a good thing), I was finished and ready to tear my shirt off and terrorize my sisters.

Except that the makeup was pretty pastel-shaded.  So I was less Incredible Hulk and more sea-sick Titanic victim.  I took one look in the mirror and then fled to my room to cry into my pillow (and cover it in sea-foam makeup).  I don't think I ever apologized to my dad.  He was just doing his best, and I had an Emily-style ingrate fit about it.

Why do I mention these memories?  Well, both of them were traumatic.  As a parent, I wonder what my kids' memories will be when they're my age.  Will they remember trips to England and Mexico, fun outings, Staycations?  Or will it be all about when I didn't let them have chocolate, or that our house is so boring because we don't have cable.

I think I'll stop bothering to create good memories - just make the bad ones extra-memorable.  Good idea?

Envision this!

Thank goodness that Envision Edmonton's campaign has amounted to nothing.

What really bugged me about the whole campaign was Charles Allard's ranting and whining about democracy being denied with the denial of their petition.  Last I checked, we live in a representational democracy.  That means that we vote in representatives to make the decisions.  Our democratic voice is heard at election time.  After that, we give the responsibility of decision making to the elected officials.

And it's not like the airport debate has been a silent thing for the last twenty years.  Even in the past two years, council has had enough public hearings, debates and reports to make the right decision.

And don't get me started on Envision deciding to submit their petition a year late.

As for the petition itself.  Envision Edmonton claims 90,000 signatures on their petition.  Let's break those numbers down with my completely scientific method.

1. Take off 25% for people who don't live in Edmonton - leaving 43,861
2. Take off 5% for non-citizens - leaving 41,668
3. Take off 5% for duplicates - leaving 39,585
4. Take off 10% for people who signed fake names (how many Ben Dovers on the list?) - leaving 35,626
5. Take off 10% for people who signed, just to shut up the petitioners - leaving 32,063
6. Take off 30% who signed, just so they could vote to close the airport - leaving 22,444
7. Take off 40% for people who don't actually vote - leaving 13,466
8. Take off 80% for stupid people - leaving 2,869
9. Take off 50% for people who did it because someone cute asked them - leaving 1,344

That seams like a reasonable number to me.

I've been to the Muni twice in my life.  Once, I was a little kid, there to pick somebody up.  My only memory was of a nasty, rundownish looking place that did not make me feel safe.  And that was in the days of regular air service!  The second was to go flying with a friend who's a pilot.  Funny story - turns out you need to keep your pilot's licence up to date, just like a driver's licence.  We spent the morning at Ricky's, which, unfortunately, will have to shut down soon with the lack of airport travelers looking for some tasty breakfast.

Enough about that crappy place.  Time to think of the future which, thankfully, the residents of Edmonton seem to be in favour of.  Check out the Yes! For Edmonton site.  There's an interesting link on there about an airport redevelopment project in Austin.  Watch for my name on the Yes! site, though I don't think I'm high-profile enough to show up there.  Maybe if I told them that Michael Phair stalks me, they'll put my name up.

(Aside:  I really did think Mr. Phair was stalking me - I used to see him all the time downtown.  I think I may have even blogged about it once... Turns out that he's just hard to miss in those colourful shirts).  Yes, just re-read that blog - I said the EXACT SAME THING!  Woops.

And when you're done with that and feeling good about the future of our city, take a look at the websites for the shortlisted companies for the redevelopment contract.  Impressive.

• Perkins Will
• Foster + Partners
• Sweco
• BNIM
• KCAP

And really, the only thing I like to Envision is a grumpy Charles Allard.  I understand the meaning of schadenfreude now.

It's my turk in a box!

Step 1 - get a turk in the box
Step 2 - umm... no junk in the box?
Step 3 - get her to open the box - and put it in the oven.

Yes - this year, we ate boxed turkey for Thanksgiving.  Let me tell you - there's no going back now.

Due to some shopping issues, there were no cook-from-frozen 18 lb turkeys left at the store when Kathryn went shopping for our Thanksgiving dinner.  Both she and I have huge nastiness issues with having a turkey sitting in a pool of salmonella, defrosting for a few days.  The thought of that makes my toes curl with the chuddiness.

So, we were left with Butterball's boxed turkey selections.  K bought one semi-reconstituted turkey "loaf", which was white on top, dark on the bottom, and looked like a ham, and one on-the-bone breast, but without the legs, wasteful bits, and nasty gibblies inside.

Super easy to make.  Open oven, insert turkey, cook.

Super easy to carve, which let me tell you, if you've never carved a turkey, is a GIGANTIC plus.  Especially the loaf - it was all slice, slice, slice, done.

I think that we're stuck with the turk in a box for the foreseeable future.

Dress code

The other day, I ran into an interesting sight at the grocery store.  I was deep in the cheese isle looking for something or other.  At one end, there was an elderly couple and at the other end, a young couple.  Now, by young, I mean early 20s - maybe even younger, though I think they might have had a kid with them.

ANYWAY, the older couple were, for lack of a better term, dressed up.  The man was wearing nice pants and shoes, a collared shirt, and maybe even a tie.  The woman looked similarly classy.  In contrast, the young couple were the slobbiest looking people I've seen in a while - ripped, baggy sweats, too-large hoodies, shoes with no laces.  I almost had to check to make sure I hadn't warped to a Walmart.  (or, even worse, a Saan store - but I knew it wasn't Saan since I wasn't in a small town in Alberta).

That got me to thinking - what's wrong with my generation (and the younger generation)?  Why do we think it's ok to just wear whatever, wherever?  And then I wondered, did the older couple dress nicely just because they were going shopping, or do they wear nice outfits every day regardless (or irregardless for you Greg).  When did it become socially acceptable to look like a hobo, just because your baby-momma needs more milk to wash down the Colt 45?

Have you been to a live performance lately, not counting Fringe plays and rock concerts?  When I spend eight million dollars to sit in the third balcony and watch a bunch of dancing cats, you're damn right that I'm going to make an effort on my outfit.  But then you always get sat beside some cowboy who wears his dress hat with his Wranglers, because of the fancy show.

What am I trying to get at?  Who knows.  Maybe I just want everyone to wear the latest Vera Wang evening dress when they need to jaunt out to the store for more eggs (Walmart excluded).  I know that it would make my shopping time more enjoyable, especially if I'm comfortable in my ripped sweats and wife beater.

I un-heart cars

Let me start by saying that I HATE cars. HATE HATE HATE them. More specifically, I hate everything to do with the crap that's involved with owning one.

We can never go for servicing without them finding something or other that needs to be fixed. Case in point - went for an oil change this week. The van has 5,000 kms on it. This should be easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy (or Japaneesy if you're not politically correct like me). After the oil change, I headed out to Costco. As I pulled in to the parking lot, the van decided to not change out of first gear. Then it decided to not engage drive at all. SUPER!

One tow-truck later, back at the dealership. Actually, before towing, we had to push the van backwards our of the parking spot because it has to be towed from the front. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a strong man... pushing with one hand whilst turning the wheel is not something that I want to ever do again.

I tell dude that the car won't reverse, won't drive. He hops in and magically, the car does a perfect lap around the building. Now I know what people feel like when they have a broken computer and I come over and it works perfectly.

Long story short (and believe me, that was a long day), looks like it needs a new transmission. Fine. Covered by warranty, rental car for free. No nonsense, but just frustrating.

What I hate more about cars is the mechanics. Kathryn and I have a small fight every time something comes up over who has to talk to the guy. She feels that they talk down to her like she's a moron. I'd be OK with that. As a man(ish), I am expected to understand how cars work. So, when he tells me the front sway bar bushings are rubbing and need to be replaced, I have to rub my chin and nod at appropriate times, like I have a clue in the world what he's talking about. He could tell me that I need a new Flux Capacitor and I'd just go right along with it, ignoring his 88 miles per hour warnings.  I've watched every episode of Top Gear, but still know nothing (unless of course, my Lamborghini Gallardo breaks down).

When something is going wrong with the car, I sometimes look inside the hood, like I will magically gain understanding, Matrix-style, of what gasket or plug is messed up and be able to fix it myself. I don't know where this silly notion comes from. Where in our genetic history was the requirement of basic car maintenance a survival trait? Did wolly mammoths have sway bar bushings maybe?

Of course, with the way things are going with cars, more and more is controlled by the on-board computer. So maybe, in ten years' time, I WILL be able to fix the car by writing a little hacky program. Then I'll go down to the dealership and talk down to the mechanic.

SYTYCSuck

Does anyone else just feel meh? towards this season's So You Think You Can Dance? I know that the finale airs tonight, but I couldn't be any less excited. Really, I don't care all that much who wins, because I don't really like any of the contestants that are left.

Now granted, everyone knows that Alex was the bee's knees, if not the bee's Achilles tendon. But let's take a quick look at the finalists:

Lauren - ok, she's gotten way better. When she's dancing, I want her to win, because she's really good. But in the pre-dance packages, her personality rubs me the wrong way.

Kent - I think he's just sailed by on his deer-in-the-headlights good looks. Also, where are his eyes? Also also, he sucks at anything that's not contemporary.

Robert - He had a really great week last week. But what's with his hair? (maybe I'm just jealous, being bald)...

But here's what else bugs me about this season:

1) All-stars. This was the lamest of the lame idea. Sure, it was nice to see them all again, but part of the charm of the show is watching two contestants crash and burn on a quickstep together. None of the competing dancers really have any chemistry together. Also, I don't want to see a bunch of allstars in the opening routine on the results show - I don't care about them!

2) Top-11 vs. Top-20. There weren't enough dancers to start with. Maybe this is why they're all dropping like flies - they started halfway through the competition, so they pushed themselves too far.

3) Not too many ballroom numbers - it seems like every week is just jazz, contemporary, broadway, with Bollywood mixed in now and again (and don't get me started on the Tahitian number)

4) The judges - I don't like the American Idol format of having the same judges every week. Yawnfest. Also, why is Mia Michaels always in such a crappy mood? Seriously, enjoy something for once. And also, learn some proper grammar. That goes for all the judges - show some enthusiasm! I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Mary Murphy and her screeching. I also miss Lil' C.

5) Cat Deeley - Seriously, WTF is up with her? Does she do a line of coke at each commercial break? I swear that she's on something. She's laughing at a joke that nobody else in the world has heard... also, stop flirting, it's kind of creepy.

6) Choreographers - why, in a show that has 6 dances, are 2 of them by one choreographer? Is everyone else too busy making 3D movies?

At least there was no stupid Mrs. Tom Cruise dance this year (but maybe they'll pull that one out for the finale.)

Socco-politics

I've been watching a lot of World Cup soccer. It's pretty exciting stuff (once you get over the vuvuzelas). But I was thinking about a way to make the World Cup even MORE exciting.

I think that teams should get an advantage based on geo-politics and their histories. Let's take a look at how this would pan out for the round of 16:

Uruguay vs. South Korea. Ok, bad example... moving on.

Mexico vs. Argentina - another bad example - even if you go back to the Incas

USA vs. Ghana - Well, this was tough, but it looks like the CIA tried to assasinate the Ghanan president at one time. They also destabilized the county's economy. This isn't all that great, but I think the US team should get an extra man for 20 minutes of the game.

England vs. Germany - Ok, this is a tough one to sort out. England beat Germany in two wars - that should warrant a two-goal head start. But, Germany bombed the snot out of London - maybe they get to start the game with a penalty kick to try and even out the score. But, what's this? The royal family are Germans! That bit of sneakery earns them a goal. So - the game starts 2-1, with a German penalty.

Netherlands vs. Slovakia - Another one with not much excitement. The Netherlands are members of NATO while Czechoslovakia were Warsaw Pacters. I guess since NATO won the cold-war "ish" - they might be given a bit of an advantage. Of course, since The Hague is in the Netherlands, they have the right to dispute any referee's call and pass judgement on it.

Japan vs. Paraguay - Seriously? Why couldn't it have been Spain or one of those old-school colonials.

Brazil vs. Chile - again, for countries so close, there isn't that much political history (at least according to Wikipedia). Maybe Chile gets an advantage because the food that sounds like their country (chili) is way better than the Brazillian one (brazil nuts). But then again, maybe Brazil gets an advantage because of Brazillians. But I digress...

Portugal vs. Spain - this is the most epic of all group of 16 matches. Portugal's throne was claimed by a Spaniard in the 1500s. Something like that definitely deserves a 1-goal advantage. But, the Portugese successfully overthrew the Iberian Union in a war, which nullifies the goal advantage.

In summation:
If your country colonized, invaded, seized the throne or bombed the ess out of another country +1 goal.

If your country successfully overthrew tyranny by another country in a violent fashion (none of this constitutional monarchy like Canada) +1 goal.

If your country dumped is prisoners on another country (England-Australia) - +1 goal (author's note: I know this isn't true, but it's fun to make fun of Australians?)

If your country dropped an atomic bomb on another country (applies to US only) - +2 goals. (Japan will NEVER want to face the US in the World Cup)

If your country successfully beat off a much stronger country when they tried to invade - +1 goal (if Vietnam ever plays the US.)

I'm sure there are more rules, but I'll let FIFA sort them out.

Oh - and even better - I think that World Cup results should translate into tangible political advantages. Like, if you beat a nuclear-capable country by more than 3 goals, they have to give you a uranium enricher - think how hard the Iranian team would play.

And just think about the south of France and the Tuscan region in Italy. Due to their terrible performance, they should expect some Kiwi or South African land-owners soon.

Chudway

Last weekend, we went to our friend's (Dani and Greg - shout out!) house for a practice day for our trip to Mexico.  (which means, eat Mexican food).  We received a call in transit from Dani that there were no ripe avocados at their Safeway - so we had to make a pit-stop to grab some.

The closest Safeway was Millbourne Market Mall, deep in the heart of Millwoods.  If you have never been there, I really don't suggest it - it has to be one of the chuddiest Safeways I've been to in a while.  (and don't get me started on the rest of the mall - it's like a worse version of Capilano mall, if you can believe that!)

Anyway - going to that Safeway is like a trip back in time.  It's like this store was passed over when Safeway did their store upgrades a few years ago.  Instead of fancy flooring, organized isles, self-checkouts, etc... you get:

1. Wide lanes.  I think it's because they have this huge store, but not much stock.  It's like that Seinfeld episode:
   
   
   
2. Old-school style round checkouts:  You know the ones - instead of a conveyer belt, it's a turn-table kind of dealy that endlessly rotates.  It's not like they needed to save the space in the store that those conveyer belts take up (see #1).  Maybe their clerks are erstwhile DJs or something.
3. Old-school style freezers.  Yes - instead of the stand-up freezers with doors that hold a ton of food, you get the floor-level, top-loading big bulk bins of coldness.  These take up a lot of room (see #1).
4. A whole lot of dead space.  The front of the store has no Starbucks, no video renting machine (and P.S. who buys DVDs from a vending machine at Safeway)?  Just a bunch of old linoleum in that 1970s Safeway style.  The store kindof looks like a 10-page report that you wrote, but did it treble-spaced with huge margins, so there's really only 2 pages of content.
5. A produce selection that rivals communist Russia.  I almost wanted to put on a big furry hat and line up with some vouchers for my monthly lettuce allotment.

So, the next time you're sipping your java-chip frappucino whilst checking out your own groceries, remember the early 80s and how much of a nasty chore grocery shopping used to be.

Or still is, if you have to take your kids along - right Kathryn?

Best of Edmonton?

This week, SEE Magazine released their annual results for "Best of Edmonton".  For the list, you can go here.

I just had to comment on this - while most categories seem OK, there really are some that I think they just copy from year to year - or, people just vote stupidly.

Favourite Edmontonian - Michael Phair.  Ok, I agree that people liked him a lot when he was on city council, and I have to agree that he could be favourite Edmontonian for 2007...  But come on, that was 3 years ago... unless you are involved in community relations for the UofA, do you really see him doing much?  (as an aside, I think he's stalking me - I do actually see him everywhere - but he is hard to miss in his wild shirt choices).

Best local professional athlete - third place was Ricky Ray.  Srsly?

Best donair - third place - Charles Smart.  Ok, just you try and go get a donair from Charles Smart.  Woops - it's a big pile of gravel.  This place has been closed for over a year AND TORN DOWN!

Best fine dining - Packrat Louie - ummmm?

Best brunch - Culina - granted, the food there was really good - but not what I would consider the best.  (hello, Smitty's anyone?) - I guess good ol' Smitts doesn't really count as brunch though.

Best everything else - to win, your store / business / brothel MUST be located on Whyte Ave.  If not, don't even think that you're ever going to win in any category.

Except if you're Ikea.

Mother's Day Gluttony

For mother's day, Greg and I decided that we would cook a gourmet meal for our wives (read our baby mammas).  Here's what was on the menu:

For an amuse bouche, we had tuna tartare - (recipe here) - this was amazing!  Some diced ahi tuna in a soy / lime / wasabi sauce.  I decided to serve it on a spoon, like this:

This was so good, that we broke the amuse bouche rule and had to have a second helping.

For the appetizer, I wanted to make a pan-seared foie gras with caramelized apples (recipe here).  So, at Sobey's Urban Fresh, across the street from where I work, they used to sell foie gras.  (at least, they did in March).  Turns out that they don't anymore.  Woops.  So, with some scrambling (and phone calls by Kathryn, because I hate the phone), we found mousse de foie gras.  I thought that we'd give it a try.

Served with this dish was a home-made brioche.  This recipe is from the French Laundry cookbook.  I was really impressed that I could cook something from that book.  The brioche and apples were amazing, the mousse, not so much.  But, live and learn.  The brioche recipe is here.  And here's a link to a really funny blog of someone who cooked her way through the French Laundry book.

By the way, making the brioche dough with a hand mixer was a bit troublesome... I had to keep re-attaching the dough hooks after they got bogged down in the buttery dough.

A picture of the brioche (before / after).

And the finished appetizer:

Next, a palate cleanser of cranberry sorbet (recipe here).  This was helped by Donvier, my good friend and ice-cream maker.

For the main course, we had Beef Wellington.  Note to anyone wanting to make this - please be sure to buy/make puff pastry - Phyllo pastry is NOT the same thing.... (requiring a second trip to the grocery store).  With this, we served creamed spinach and a Gorgonzolla and pear risotto.  The risotto was absolutely amazing (and probably the only thing on the menu that a vegetarian could eat).

The Wellington recipe is here, and the risotto recipe is here - from an interesting cooking blog.

Finally, for dessert, we had lime panna cotta with mint and tequila.  This was like an amazing creamy lime-y jello.  We had to eat it out of the ramekins, because we couldn't tease it out (despite calling it names).  It was a nice, light, awesome end to a wonderful meal.

Side note - the meal was even better because Greg and I served it all wearing chip-n-dale outfits, I mean just aprons, no wait, shirts and ties.

Bus driver hierarchy

As I waited for my bus at Millgate the other day, I started to wonder if there's a hierarchy of bus drivers.  In my world, here's how it works:

The best bus drivers get to drive the LRT (how cool would that be???!!!) - this is reserved for those extra-special people - or maybe a birthday treat.

Or maybe the best ones get to drive the hybrid bus on loan from BC.

The second step down gets to drive the bendy-busses like the #9.  Just because they get to be extra-awesome around corners.

Then comes the regular busses - not for over- or under-achievers - just achievers.

If you show up late for work, you have to drive one of the old-school busses - not as much fun, but still OK.

If you have a pretty bad record at the bus garage, then you're demoted to the little busses - not really a bus, but not really a van.  These are the second class citizens in the bus world.

And finally - School Special.  Yeah, 'nuff said.

Bracket busting

In honour of March Madness, I'd like to talk about a little bracket-busting of my own.

When I was little, our family used to take long road-trip vacations in our van, towing a trailer. Since my dad was a teacher, he had two months off in the summer, so we could take our time and drive to California or Florida. These trips were generally 6-8 hour days spent in the van, puncuated with quick stops at tourist attractions and KOAs. And, to get off topic, there's nothing like pulling up to a KOA when you're little and seeing both a swimming pool AND an arcade - HEAVEN!

ANYWAY, we had the full-sized dodge van - none of these puny little mini-vans for our family. In the 80s, long before the advent of car seats, baby helmets and the like, we were allowed to be out of our seats and lying down on the giant carpeted floor space between the middle seats and the back of the van. I think that my dad carpeted this himself - so it was an awesomly comfortable shag from time to time (depending on the van, and on what was cheap at the carpet store I guess).

One of my favourite passtimes whist relegated to the back of the van was to have smash-up derbies with my Hot Wheels cars. I usually had about 16-20 cars with me. The rules are pretty easy - take two cars, one in each hand - point them at eachother, then smash them together. If one car remains on its wheels while the other turns over, that car wins. The cars faced off in a best of 3 match.

So, off I would go, setting up the initial bracket for my derby championship. The cars would face off, and half would be eliminated. This would continue until there was one car left. The champion, you say? Not even close!

That would only waste about half an hour. When you're driving through Montana, you need to kill a lot more time than that. The winning car would be put aside, and the remaining cars would then face off in a renewed bracket. The losing finalist from the previous round would get a bye to future smash-up rounds. It was all very complicated.

Eventually, I'd be down to 2 cars left that hadn't managed to win. These were generally the ugly Motorhome, the Bubble Gunner (both pictured below), or the tractor part of a semi that had lost its trailer. This one lost all the time because it was so light and top-heavy. Also, I didn't like it all that much.

There were actually two motorhomes, but one of them had all the paint chipped off, so I repainted it in red - the tires, windows, body, etc and called it he Devil Mobile.  It fared a lot better - it must have been heavier due to all that extra paint - because I'm not really all that good at being light with a paintbrush.  Especially with my sausage fingers.

Back to the competition... it would go on and on for hours, until there was one definite winner - the champion of champions.  It was usually this awesome Ferrari Key Car.  I think it was a combination of the car's wedge shape and the fact that I always wanted it to win.  I think that I would press down on the car really hard in an effort to get that wedge-shaped hood under the wheels of the other cars.  In the 80s, the Ferrari Testarossa was the ultimate in coolness, especially if you like Magnum PI.  My dad still has the car at his house - I should maybe steal it and re-enact the derby championship.

Of course, if my kids tried to do that, I'm sure that I would yell at them to keep the noise down and go do something else.

Lonely shoe

On two different occasions yesterday, I saw a stranded, lonely shoe left by the side of the road. Then I thought about the many times in the past where I've seen stranded shoes forlornly discarded at the side of the road.

Which got me wondering - how does one go about losing just one shoe? Granted, half of the shoes you see on the road can be accounted for: somebody throws them away because they already lost the first one.

But how does one go about losing just one shoe? Are you in such a hurry that as your walking and your shoe falls off, that you just don't have the time to go back and get it and put it on again? Did it fall out of your gym bag? If so, how do you not notice the weight difference? (p.s., you don't often see light-weight expensive sneakers lying around).

Did the mother shoe have too many shoe puppies and you had to toss one away, tied in a bag and thrown into the river. (author's note: I have never gotten rid of excess puppies this way).

Did you fall asleep while riding shotgun, with your foot out the window, and the driver of the car played a funny trick on you?

Really, I have no explanations.

When? Soon. Now! BARF!

If you don't live in Edmonton, or if you do, and have been living the hermit lifestyle for the past month, let me catch you up:

About a month ago, billboards went up all around Edmonton with what looked like the Sprite bottle bubbles in the background and the word WHEN? printed in giant letters.

Then, after a few weeks, all the billboards were replaced with the word SOON. I could hardly contain my enthusiasm.

Then, the big reveal yesterday at 1:02 - the launch of a new radio station in Edmonton called Now! Here are reasons why I already don't like this station:

1) Stupid ad campaign. I hate the build-up / reveal style of ads. Whatever marketing genius thought these up should be tied to a chair and forced to watch endless loops of "Where's the Beef" ads.

2) The name. Seriously? Now! (note the exclamation mark). What kind of name is that? Also, why do they need to shout the name of the station?

3) The morning show. Now, granted, I haven't heard the morning show yet, but the hosts are named Mars and Crash. Is the first lession in DJ school 101 about how you have to pick a zany name? "Here's our morning hosts, Jiffy Pop and Quicky Lube". Stupid.

4) The song selection - "guitar-driven rock songs from artists that write their own songs" - sounds promising. First artist listed? Nickleback. Enough said. Actually, not enough said - this looks like the worst parts of The Bear, Capital FM and K-Rock all mixed together.

5) The frequency. 102.3. That's WAAAY too close to Sonic 102.9. Considering that Sonic's tower is a piddly little thing in Nisku (right by that awesome Flaman treadmill guy) - the Now! broadcast takes over that entire 102-ish frequency range. Which makes it near impossible to find Sonic on my clock radio, which uses an old-school analog dial for tuning.

Don't get me started on how much point #5 upsets me. For years, I've woken up to the hilarious ramblings of Garner Andrews on Sonic. Or, 3 out of 5 days a week, a song by Metric. What an awesome way to start the day! Now that Now! has taken over my clock radio's ability to find Sonic, I had to tune it to the Bear. I do NOT want to wake up to AC/DC. Also, Paul Brown and the other Paul Brown (Yukon Jack) (oh yeah, and the ditzy woman - seriously, why hire a hot chick for radio?) are complete morons, and make me want to throw my radio and smash it when I hear them. Not a good way to start the day in a good mood.

I want my MTV.

And by MTV, I mean Sonic.

Own the podium?

In previous years, I was happy with Canada's performance at the Olympics, especially compared to powerhouse countries like Russia and the US.

But this year, I'm just not happy with personal bests and our perennial 4th place finish. I think it's because of the whole "Own the Podium" initiative that we've been hearing about for 4 years.

I want Canada to win a gold in every sport, even if they don't have athletes competing in it.

I blame the Canadian Olympic committee for ruining the Olympics for me. I used to be happy to see Canada finish just outside the medals - but they built it up so much that we'd win everything that anything else is just a disappointment.

I blame CTV.

I Believe

I love the Olympics - especially the winter Olympics (or, Olympic Winter Games) because Canada actually has a chance to win something.  (more on that later).

Anyway, here's my take on the opening ceremonies in Vancouver - my own colour commentary, if you will.

First off - the light show was amazing - especially the orcas swimming along and spouting water - they almost looked real.

Boo-urns to Nelly Furtado and Brian Adams for lip-synching.  Seriously?  But then again, they showed Miss Furtado singing after the medal ceremony one night and it sounded TERRIBLE.  So maybe lip-synching wasn't that bad of a thing after all.  But really - she's not a chubby person, but her dress also looked TERRIBLE on her.  Ditto on her dance moves.  Also, what's the deal with all these Olympic songs having to be really sucky easy rock songs.  I'm sure the Hip could have done something better.  Heck, even the Bare Naked Ladies could have come up with something better than the drum-banging anthem.

Moving on.

Sarah M was divine.  k d lang (notice the case) was amazing.  A couple of comments on kd:  1)  From Emily:  "Why does that man keep pulling the microphone wire?"  Kathryn's answer:  "Well, first off, that's a girl".   2)  Song choice?  Not sure what the song had to do with the Olympics (or Canada for that matter).  Still, (s)he did an awesome job.

Then I got to thinking - what do people from other countries learn about Canada from these ceremonies?

A)  The prairies are boring, and Peter Pan lives there.  Then, when the prairies aren't boring, there are lightning storms and blizzards.  Also, in this section, could they have gotten a more stupid-looking close-up than they did of Patrick Chan's face?

B)  If you live on the east coast, you wear leather with kilts, have your hair in a mohawk, play the fiddle and make deals with the devil.

C)  VANOC doesn't care about French People.  (don't get me started on this)

D)  Our Governor General likes to sleep

Also, what was with that opera singer's hair?  She looked like a muppet.  Also, her singing was great for the first 10 seconds - then it went on for too long - and all at the same level of intensity.  Also also, the token Quebecois singer (and p.s., who calls themsevles by only one name?) was something I could have done without.

I did enjoy the return of Brian Williams and his outragedness.  I think he started on a tirade about the Russian drug cheats.  I really hope that there's a controversy in these Olympics that he can go on rants about.

I'm not going to talk about the failed hydraulics (though, I wonder if Bombardier had anything to do with them) - but I will comment that it was LAME LAME LAME that #99 had to get in a truck and drive for 20 minutes to light another cauldron.  Overall, the cauldron lighting was completely anti-climactic.  And why wasn't there any security keeping the rowdies away from the truck?

Speaking of the flame's truck ride - my favourite part of the ceremonies was watching dude crouched down behind Gretzky poking the torch up and lighting another one for him, and then hearing Brian Williams go on and on about how special that torch must be since it hasn't gone out yet.  I'm sure Lloyd (pronounced L-Loyd) was kicking him under the desk.

And on to the games themselves.  Really, the only thing I want to say is that I wonder how long it will be until they drive a proper zamboni in to the Richmond Oval to replace the crappy environmentally friendly one.  It must be enviro-friendly because it never works, so it never spits out greenhouse gasses.

Now, on to CTV.  I am not really enjoying CTVs coverage.  Especially the daytime coverage.  It's all too ETalk Daily-ish for me.  I also abhor their website - it's too cluttered, too slow, and too terrible to use.  But what I really miss from the CBC is the Olympic anthem - so I've included it here.  Feel free to click on it at every commercial break so you can pretend you're watching CBC.

Two all-beef patties...

Over the Christmas break, we had a party at our house for all the former Tropical Breeze dancers and their significant others.  At one point, the conversation got on to the movie Food Inc., and how gross it is where our food comes from, and then a fun discussion (read argument) about vegetarians vs. how good meat tastes.

But I digress...

The subject came up about the old McDonald's styrofoam clamshell containers, which precipitated a moment of me feeling old, and here's why:

One of the guys that was there asked "McDonald's used to use styrofoam?"

Boo-urns to the younger generation for not knowing this!

And as a special P.S. to this post - do you remember the first time you graduated from Happy Meals to ordering and eating your first Big Mac?  What an awesome coming-of-age ritual that is!