Candlelight Vigils

You know what I fucking hate?  Candlelight vigils.  Not only is a gathering of people with candles a fire hazard, but they just don’t work.  I am particularly perplexed by people holding candlelight vigils for missing people.  I just read today that another young, attractive white woman went missing, and people have already scheduled a candlelight vigil for her.   People, instead of holding a fucking vigil, how about you form a search party instead or drive around the fucking neighborhood looking for her, seriously?  For Pete’s sake even putting up missing person posters on a lamp post is doing something!  Standing around with a damned candle is pointless.

I will admit that I can sort of understand a candlelight vigil for memorial purposes.  Say Princess Diana died and some idiot wants to stand outside and get hypothermia, that’s okay.  Nothing says I remember you like almost dying yourself.  I’m not going to do it, but to each their own.

Now if I ever go missing, I want all of you to be out there looking for me, and for the love of God, don’t stand around with fucking candles, okay?

…get a job

Oh The Royal Wedding™.  I’m so happy that I don’t live in the UK.  The amount of attention given to this hullabaloo is mind-boggling enough for us Americans.  I cannot begin to fathom what it must be liked to be choked with the pomp and circumstance on my way to work, however.

The picture above is the headlining snap on MSNBC.  The Royal Wedding™ must be a big deal now that people are camping out to catch a glimpse of….what, exactly?  A feathery fascinator?  A coat with tails?  The backs of other gawkers’ heads?  If you’re into this thing, how much fun can you have standing in a sea of people with no food, drink or access to a toilet?  It’s like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Sure, you may be there for history but look at all the creature comforts you’re sacrificing for the cause.  There is no cause significant enough for me to give up the bare necessities in life.  NONE.  Not an endless supply of money, eternal salvation, a bottomless cup of coffee or cigarettes that magically do not cause cancer.

Then there is that whole question of what does one actually expect to witness that cannot be witnessed in the comfort of one’s home, on the sofa, in front of the teevee?  As with sporting events, if you don’t have a decent seat, maybe your ass should just stay at home and watch things you can actually see via the miracles of modern technology.

I dunno.  Maybe the freak of nature (above) has some logical excuse for parking his ass on concrete for a week?  I’m sure the people watching (of the crowd, not those invited) is worth the price of no admission.  Alas, it’s certainly not worth not being able to move from a spot, eat or tend to Mother Nature.

Word of the Day: nostalgia

Interestingly, today’s word was once upon a time considered a medical condition.

Back in 1668, German Physician Johannes Hofer coined the word and defined it as “severe homesickness.” It is derived from the Greek words nostos (homecoming) and algos (pain). I never really thought about it before but the word nostalgia does look and sound like some kind of disease or disorder.  (See: myalgia)

The more modern definition of nostalgia as a sort of wistful longing for the past was first recorded in 1920. Nowadays however, the word can also be defined as not necessarily a desire to return to the past, but simply an appreciation for it.

Naturally, this means that the nostalgic tend to look at their particular favorite time in the past through rose-colored glasses, seeing only the good things and disregarding the bad. For example, many people these days long for the simpler times before cell phones and broadband internet connections, but of course they tend to forget how much harder life was back then.

Somehow I got through high school and most of college having used actual books, magazines, and microfiche/film as research material for reports and papers. I remember typing high school homework assignments on a Smith Corona typewriter. Sure, the internet was around in the mid-90s when I started college, but it was all as new and wild as an Old West frontier town. Many of my professors and teachers did not entirely trust the content on the internet (and rightly so) and therefore they simply would not accept internet-based sources.

The young people of today tend to not appreciate how easy they have it, but it’s not at all their fault. Just as Generation Xers like me cannot remember a time when there was no television, the Generation Y kids cannot remember a time when there was no internet.

They were born into the information age.

Stay tuned…

…sharing is good

or maybe not.

The director of Milkface’s school dropped her eldest daughter off at a Girl Scouts meeting across the street.  We ran into each other outside and it would be painfully rude (and entirely un-Southern) of me if I did not invite her and her youngest daughter, also a classmate of Milky’s, into our home.

Milky’s face filled with joy as he saw one of his most favorite adults standing in the foyer. We released the hounds (children) in the living room for some quick play time.  Milky’s classmate spies his drum and immediately zeros in on it, much to Milky’s chagrin.  Milky let out a loud howl, grabbed the drum and chastised his friend with a stern “MINE!” Lovely.

Granted, Milky has never had a toddler his own age over to the house for a playdate so the concept of sharing his toys, as opposed to school toys, is entirely foreign to him.  That said – what horrible manners this feral toddler has!

All of this brings me to today’s internet funny.  Clearly I have a few more years of “MINE” howling to contend with.

On Graduation Hat Day…

I’m back, everyone! Mark and Erika say hello. I’ve been working on my Graduation Hat Day poem since I got back this afternoon, with a lot of help from Master Poet Ken. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

With many friends throughout the years,
You’ve shared laughter and shared tears.
Worked and studied very hard,
And spent some time in the schoolyard.
We teachers try our best to educate,
So that all of you can graduate.
It is very often hard, although,
It is to help you grow, and know,
That we wouldn’t put you through it,
If we did not know that you could do it.
It may feel like years ‘till the big day,
But it’s really only weeks away.
When they see that hat upon your head,
Many tears of pride and joy will be shed.

Public School Music

I know this area is usually used to write about the history of a particular act, but I’d like to take a slightly different turn. There is often a lot of talk in education funding circles everywhere, be it Canada, the U.S., or even here in Sweden, about arts funding and specifically funding for music in schools. Everytime I hear that kind of mindless chatter it sets my blood to boiling. Why on earth anyone could consider music as some kind of extra program baffles me to no end.
I was blessed with the good fortune to attend an inner city public school in downtown Toronto early in the 1970’s. Now I don’t know if people were smarter and more broad thinking then, or if there was more money around, or if it was just the result of a driven few, but my public school consisted of a wonderful music education, from many different angles, and is what I remember more from my school experience than any other aspect.

Firstly there was some sort of visiting artists program. I graduated from grade 8, which is the upper end of public school in Toronto, in spring of 1976. So these happenings took place before then. When I was in either grade 5 or 6 I remember we had a group come in and play just for 2 classes together. The only song I can remember they played for sure was The Band’s The Weight. The next week however they appeared live on Rollin’ On the River, which was the variety show hosted by Kenny Rogers and The First Edition, which was recorded in Canada. Now that performance was very intimate, and took place down in the playroom which was in the basement of the school. Slightly smaller than a regular classroom. A bigger event was a concert that took place the same year, which was held up in the large auditorium, and the whole school attended. I remember that vividly. The whole school sitting on the floor, and one man with a guitar, who chose not to sit up on the stage, but rather on a chair, on the floor with us. Unfortunately I don’t recall the whole setlist (always admired people who could do that, but hey, I was probably about 10). The one song I do recall absolutely is Jim Croce’s Rapid Roy. Looking back on some notes about the Kenny Roger’s and The First Edition show I see that Jim Croce actually appeared on it, and I now realise I may actually have seen Jim Croce. I don’t know what that means to you, but I find it surprisingly moving.

One performance I know for sure moves me was a very special one. They took two of the classrooms to The Imperial Room, at The Royal York Hotel, which is across from Union Station down on Front Street. There may be bigger and grander places now, but there sure weren’t then. We were wide eyed as they marched us through the plush lobby and into the theatre. We crowded around the foot of the stage, just standing in a large group, and then as natural and friendly as could be out came Ella Fitzgerald. I recall that it was about an hour long performance, and she sang A-Tisket, A-Tasket. Absolutely magical.
Just a couple blocks away from The Royal York Hotel stands the Royal Alexandra Theatre, known by everyone in Toronto as the Royal Alex. As well as having the opportunity to see musical acts as I’ve described, we also got to see a lot of theatre. The obvious one that jumps to mind was the musical production Grease, which would have been around 1975. I’m forgetting tons of others, but I know we often saw The Nutcracker by The National Ballet at The O’Keefe Centre, as well as The Famous People Players. We also had theatre troupes come to the school, and in the same auditorium where I may have seen Jim Croce, I saw my first production of Midsummer Night’s Dream, when I was 13 in grade 8.

In addition to these presentations and outings was an arts program brought into the schools by the Inner City Angels. A group of artists that focused on inner city schools and provided mini-courses for selected students in film, music, painting, etc. Music was also provided for directly in the curriculum, with music class holding its own along side all of the other subjects. We had a huge choir, conducted by one of my favourite teachers over all of the years, Mr.Paul Brisley. Once a week we had Music Appreciation class. For that class we could bring in whatever music we wanted, our own records, and we would play them in class and discuss them. I think he had a soft spot for me because I used to get my music largely from my godmother’s daughters, Theresa and Mary-Louise, who were 4 and 6 years older than me respectively, so it was usually something a little different than what all the other students were bringing in. What really sticks with me from music class though, is not the chance to play our own records, or to perform in the choir, but the simple way in which Mr.Brisley absolutely burned with a passion for music. He would get equally excited talking about the complexities of American Pie, (which I remember we studied in detail) as he would be with getting us to pick out instruments by ear that we heard in classical pieces, or getting us to write parodies of popular songs. He would also bring in stuff for us that he found fun and interesting, like Allan Sherman’s Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah, or Eight Foot Two, Solid Blue (has anybody seen my Martian gal). It was truly a diverse class in terms of teaching.

Now that I’m all growed up and play myself, I make it a point to play for and around children as often as I can. I have no desire to be a children’s performer, but they don’t need that as much as they need to see and feel and experience live music as much as possible. They need to get infected with a love for it. I did, and it may not only have been from my public education, but that played a large role, and I am eternally grateful for anyone who played a part in bringing it to my life.

The Questia Online Library

I’m a bibliophile.  I don’t read books, I devour them.  Though there’s nothing like holding a real book in your hands, there are times when an online book has its advantages.  First of all, you can read books that are rare or are no longer in print.  Secondly, it’s convenient to have instant access to books; you don’t have to get out in the rain and you don’t have to worry about the opening and closing times of the library or bookstore.  Michael Pastore elaborates more on this concept with 30 Benefits of Ebooks.

Since my passion involves reading lots of non-fiction, research papers, newspapers, magazines, etc. and very little fiction and novels, I’m always on the lookout for a good  source of Ebooks.  My dream would be to sit and read all day in a university research library, but since I can’t do that with 3 young children, I have to settle for Questia.  Questia is a full-text online library with access to over 77,000 books, 4 million articles, and 250 respectable publishers such as John Wiley & Sons and Oxford University Press.

Of course access to such a source is not free, in fact you have to pay a subscription, but that is perfectly fine with me.  I don’t mind paying for things that work.  Questia works.  For around $99 dollars a year you get access to all the sauce I mentioned above.  Not bad considering that for about $8 to $9 dollars a month you get complete access to books and journals that are of research caliber.  Well worth the cost in my opinion.

5.11 Tactical TFL Tactical Shoelaces

I’m always glad to see a new product from 5.11 Tactical, and as usual, they don’t disappoint. The TFL (Tactical Footwear Laces) series is a new look at the old concept of tying your shoes. Designed from the ground up by 5.11 engineers with input from US Navy SEALs, Russian Spetsnaz, British SAS, Israeli cooks, Al Quaeda terrorists, Cub Scouts, Swedish blogger Blondinbella and the cast of Jersey Shore, the TFL series were field tested for almost four hours over the rugged terrain of a warehouse floor in Modesto, CA.

While conventional laces are only concerned with keeping your footgear tied, TFLs are part of a complete tactical system. Made from mil-spec 550 parachute cord, TFLs contain multiple strands that can be unraveled and deployed in any number of tactically tactical ways. Need to snare a rabbit? Make a tripwire for a grenade/mason jar booby trap? Tie down your trunk after a particularly fruitful trip to IKEA? Tie up a blonde Swedish blogger? With TFLs, you’ll always be prepared. Plus, with a piece of turquoise or a .50 cal casing you can turn them into a bolo tie! Never be caught unprepared for an impromptu dinner party again!

Not only are TFLs functional, they’re aesthetically pleasing, too. They come in every camo pattern in use by every major military in the world for the past 50 years (because who’d want to be the idiot wearing Flecktarn BDUs with Alpenflage laces on their boots?) as well as basic black, day-glo orange, and pink paisley.

I bought a pair to try, and man do my feet feel tactical now. I even showed them to Kang, who said “that’s nice dear, now go mow the damn lawn!”