What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Thursday, October 17, 2002

BOO HOO

A follow-up to my rant last week about Madonna plugging her new film on Larry King Live ("You will love this movie," the apparently-clairvoyant Larry hollered at the camera) -- her spokesperson Liz Rosenberg described the critical reaction to "Swept Away" as "a public hanging by the critics, an assassination. Give the girl a break already! Stop being so mean! I can't believe the level of rage being directed against her. It's a sad state that these critics are taking such joy in it." Funny, I read a review in Entertainment Weekly that gave the film a B, but it was a rage-filled B, I could tell.

It's hilarious that Madonna's publicist expects the public to feel sorry for the singer because she can't make a good movie. It's as though we just don't love Madonna enough, dammit! It reminds me of the angry new Whitney Houston song in which she shrieks, "Why you lookin' at meeeeee?" Well I don't know, Whitney, maybe it's the way you've spent two decades yelling, "Look at me!"

There's enough uncritical celebrity-worship in our culture without demanding more (or, in Whitney's case, better) devotion. Artists and entertainers cannot expect the public to line up and purchase any bit of dandruff they cast off, no matter how passionately their publicists and parent companies insist we do. Sorry, Madonna, but we're harder to impress than Larry King.

GRATITUDE

As holidays go, I like Thanksgiving quite a bit. It's not so much the big dinner but the notion of having just one day in which we stop and give thanks. We rush through our daily lives attempting to gain what we need or fix what bothers us but we rarely stop to consider the wonders we already possess.

Mark Twain once said that, at his lowest, most destitute point, he kept and cherished a single ten-cent piece. As long as he possessed that dime, he could never be considered penniless. This is the one day when you can stop and give thanks for whatever it is that keeps you going -- friends, family, career, possessions, attitudes or simple touchstones. Whether you have a lot or a little, be glad you've got it.

THE MOUSE THAT ROARED

I hope there weren't too many Freedom-loving Americans on Church Street this evening, because they would have been rightly horrified by the behaviour I witnessed at the pub. In honour of our joint holiday weekend, American and Canadian flags were hung from the awning of the pub -- two Maple Leafs on either side, one Stars and Stripes right in front -- but a great number of people expressed disapproval, anger, even fear, at the US flag. "What is that doing up?" many would snap and, to me, "Columbus Day" seemed insufficient as an answer.

Obviously, North American relations are a bit tense right now, what with George Bush's attempts to drag us into World War III and all. Even Jean Chretien has openly challenged the American government for -- what? -- the first time ever? If Pierre Trudeau was right when he said that Canada's relationship with the US was like a mouse in bed with an elephant, tonight's reactions hint that we're getting a little tired of Dumbo hogging the covers.

But while I can understand how the old Red, White and Blue could annoy people, I can't share the opinion. I like Americans. I find them generally friendly and decidedly outspoken. If they like you, you'll definitely know it and, if they don't like you, you'll definitely know it -- a directness especially welcome in cool Toronto. Hating Americans is like hating the Chinese -- while their governments may be toxic, it's not necessarily the people's fault. Besides, didn't all the Americans vote for Gore, anyway? Let's focus our anger at the right people...

Labels: Canada, Trawna

SHOOT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER

Is it curious that, while every newspaper shrieks in terror over the murdering sniper in the US, the newspages of the National Rifle Association are completely blank on the topic? While I've always supported the NRA's assertion that is indeed possible for someone to own and use guns with safety and clear-headedness, I'm not surprised that they're keeping very quiet as yet another criminal with easy access to weapons goes on a rampage.

Besides, they're too busy with their launch of NRA Online, an internet service provider for "Freedom-loving Americans" who "have requested a high-quality, pro-gun alternative to the mass market ISPs." I wonder if all those people also consistently capitalize the word freedom. Another headline reads "NASCAR Star Becomes NRA Life Member" -- for sheer newsworthiness, that's on par with "Figure Skater Comes Out as Gay."

Now, the real news story the NRA's site does feature concerns the race for the Pennsylvania governorship: Democrat and current mayor of Philadelphia Ed Rendell has apparently "put the state on a slippery slope toward disarmament with his proposal to limit handgun purchases to one a month." This fascist idea has alarmed Tom Grice, "owner of a Clearfield gun store -- not because of a potential loss of sales, he said, but because it would represent an erosion in gun owners' rights. 'There'd be nothing to stop him from going farther,' Grice said." I agree -- if left unchecked, maniacs like Rendell could eventually make it impossible to buy a rifle and shoot people. In the meantime, I'll be stocking up.

MY BIG GAY TV REMOTE

While having a late dinner with Darcy and putting "Will & Grace" on the television (in its fifth season, the show is still very funny), roommate Jerry asked to flip to the dreaded CNN for a minute. The sight of Larry King interviewing Madonna earned two shrieks of delight from them and one groan of despair from me -- a 66.6% homosexual approval rating. Unlike, say, every other Larry King interview ever, this one was conducted in a hotel room chosen by the interviewee. Doesn't Larry know that if he lets Madonna have her way like that, she'll get a bit full of herself? Way to suck up, Larry, and thanks for yet another reason to avoid that channel!

Labels: oh l'amour

STILL A BAD, BAD MAN

A brief conversation with the pub manager this morning allayed my fears over any poor reaction to Wednesday night's closing. The photographer who threatened to fight me, as though I were evicting him from his home, apparently plans to apologize. Fair enough.

The record store, oddly enough, became my next problem: the boss took me aside after work today to ask me about a complaint delivered to him, through his assistant, from a customer of mine. It seems that, when I told her we unfortunately weren't selling concert tickets to a particular event at the Opera House, she went away believing that I'd her we didn't sell ANY tickets for the Opera House EVER and that was quite rude to her. Here we go again -- it's the same thing I get occasionally at the pub after I tell people that they need to follow whatever rule they're currently breaking.

I find it exasperating since I generally try to be as polite as possible with people. Having suffered through countless snotty clerks and arrogant waiters in my day, I know how important dealing with someone pleasant can be when you need help. I strive to be that person. I don't even recall the incident in question -- I made that Opera House speech several times today in the same tone. Pointless to worry about it, of course -- you can't please everybody -- but, short of hugging everyone, I just don't see how I can be nicer to customers. Could that be the problem?

Labels: introspective, working girl

THE BAD, BAD MAN

Realizing with horror that it's been an entire week since my last post. So undisciplined. But even scarier is wondering where the week went. A couple lovely evenings with Darcy in the middle of non-stop customer service.

Or lack thereof. I'm blue at the moment over my shift at the pub this evening. A photographer I know and like was working a party there but, by 2:45 am, had enjoyed one drink too many and refused to leave the bar. Now I've been told -- previously in general and this evening in particular -- that every single non-staff member MUST be out of the pub by that time. I tried to talk him into leaving in the least threatening manner I could but he kept screaming to stay, wailing, "Leave me alone! You are totally stressing me OUT!" Really, he was acting like a small child but I still ended up feeling like someone being cruel to a small child. I felt sorry for him and, quite frankly, it's much easier to turf out assholes.

I fear that the incident will reflect badly on me with my boss and co-workers. I fear that the photographer will go on at length to anyone who will listen about what a bastard he thinks I am (it's a small community). Mostly, I fear that there WAS some way to get him out gently and on time but one that just didn't occur to me. Is everyone this hard on themselves, or is it just me?

Labels: oh l'amour

TARGET: CNN

Maybe it's just my own fault for not keeping up with the news over the last couple of days, but CNN rattled me this evening at work. While the big topic of a possible strike at Iraq is on some people's lips and at the back of many people's minds, I walk by a screen featuring no sound but an anchorman with "TARGET: NEW ORLEANS" superimposed in large letters below his neck. For a brief moment, I had a horrible vision of a terrorist attack on another American city before managing to figure out that they were discussing Hurricane Lili currently bearing down on 'Nawlins'.

Ever since the Gulf War in 1991, I've hated CNN's need for 'catchy' labels on every major news story and tonight just reinforced that irritation. The word 'target' seems irresponsible at this particular point in time and, on a broader level, it's frustrating that a new US military conflict in the Middle East is being discussed as an inevitability -- like bad weather -- while hurricanes are given cute names and sinister motivations. While the city will be in my thoughts and hopes this day and next, New Orleans is not being 'targeted' by anyone named Lili, so I wish the news would tell us what's happening without trying to scare.

Fortunately, there are beacons of sanity out there and Thomas Friedman is one of them. The author of "The Lexus and the Olive Tree" -- a remarkably clear-eyed look at the pros and cons of globalization -- has a new collection of essays called Longitudes and Attitudes: Exploring the World After September 11 and a brief skim through it in a bookstore today delighted me. In these jittery times, Friedman's calm rationality is like a soothing balm on a sunburn. I just wish he worked at CNN.

PLEASE DO THE MATH, PEOPLE

That wedding last weekend, in case you were wracked with suspense, worked out quite well. I was absolved from having to attend the ceremony itself and comfortably arrived a bit later for the reception and dinner. Mino and Shannon are a lovely couple and, while I wouldn't say I enjoyed myself at the banquet hall, it was a pleasant enough evening.

The only downside was the usual one: the choir of relatives asking when I plan to tie the knot and, if not, why not? My theory is that, if you're not married by the age of 30, people begin to assume you're either gay or mentally ill. Since my parents have asked me not to come out to the rest of the family (though not in so many words, of course), I'm stuck declaring my status as 'a happy bachelor' and being met with eyes full of pity. Creepy, and subject to change real soon.

It's funny that I spent most of my late teens afraid that everyone thought I was gay when I wasn't (yet), and am currently annoyed that no one thinks I'm gay when it should be completely, screamingly obvious. (Mental note: wear more pink at family functions.)

WHO LOVES THE DEAD WHITE GUYS?


At the record store, I've started laying claim to the jazz section, which is so understocked it reminds one of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree -- tiny and wretched. Many people I know avoid jazz because they find it too daunting a genre to wander into. I can understand that, since I have a similar but stronger reaction to classical. Classical music is frustrating because, even when you listen to enough of it to discover composers or periods that you're fond of, you then have to contend with a dizzying array of different versions from various conductors and orchestras! Meanwhile, most "greatest hits" albums feature abridged versions or poor sound quality.

All this has kept me from really getting into classical music for years now but I was happy to discover this week a line of CD's that feature some of the best recordings of individual composers' most popular or accessible works on a roomy two discs apiece (the Bach set looks particularly attractive). This Panorama series looks like a pleasing collection and a great help to a beginner like me.

Having started this push to further broaden my musical tastes, I was a bit disappointed to see an article from composer Joshua Fineberg entitled Classical Music: Why Bother? This is a bit like enthusiastically stepping up onto a train platform and being told that the trains have stopped running. Fineberg's article is terrific, however -- blunt, compelling and downright scary when he explains how the decline in classical music interest is merely the forerunner to similar declines in jazz, in pop and even in other fields, like film. It's all yet another reminder that, in the rush for new sounds and experiences, we can't just toss our history to one side...

SCANNED AND PANNED

As a film buff who both loves DVD and now makes a living from the format, I've been increasingly tetchy about the growing split in the market. More and more movies on disc are being offered in two versions -- one a "widescreen" disc that shows the director's complete composition between two horizontal black bars; the other, a "full screen" disc that crops at least a third of the image to fit a standard square TV screen. Simply put, I enjoy the first, I resent the second. I just don't think anyone should tamper with the presentation the filmmaker intended.

Also, the competing formats are confusing to the customer who would prefer one or the other but may not know the difference from a label. Fortunately, help has come from an odd source: the official Star Wars website features a concise and well-illustrated explantion of Widescreen vs. Full Screen that even softened my stance a little. If you're buying a movie anytime soon, it's worth a look.