Couldn't Conquer The Blue Sky

This spectacular picture of an island off of Mexico was taken from 200 miles up by Astronauts on the International Space Station while traveling at 17,000 miles per hour during one of its 15 or so daily orbits.

I thought this was pretty darned cool.

Earlier this month, we had the coldest day in June since they started keeping records from back in the 1930's. The mercury dropped to all of 12 degrees for a daytime high, (which was like 3:00 PM), so in the morning it was all of 6 degrees or so. Simply put, while walking to the store a couple of weeks ago, it was so cold you could see your breath freezing in the air. Yesterday and today though? There were record high temperatures set all over the province, and BC was by far the hottest spot in Canada. It is simply perfect. Hot, sunny, no wind, and there hasn't been a cloud in the sky at all since Friday morning, nothing but perfect clear blue skies over the mountains and the ocean.

I woke up early (which is continually confounding me as why I can't sleep in on weekends, but on work days, I could quite happily sleep until noon - duh. "Paging Dr. Freud"). But I digress. Last night, I blew off a going to movie with Gino, and just stayed home and cooked up my first in a long time batch of Garlic-Chicken-Death, (which was awesome BTW). I watched some TV, had a few glasses of something, and went to bed at 11:00 PM. I'm also thinking that my lazy, crazy, swinging days of summer are behind me, considering its a long weekend, I just got paid, and it's perfect weather and all, yet I choose to eat something healthy, shave my bunions, yell at those damned kids to stay off my lawn, and then go to bed early). This morning though, I was up before 8:00 AM, and went out for a walk to the coffee place, then down to the beach and just reveled in living in the heart of the most beautiful city in North America.

I walked through my neighborhood, and was assaulted by all the smells of summer; Maple and Oak trees gave off their scent, and I was able to walk in and out of the perfume of the many different flowerbeds as I strolled by, all the while framed with the fresh-cut grass smell of the ocean which is a scant 2.5 blocks away. The city was quiet, there was no traffic on Denman St, and the sun was warm, and rays of light were lasering through the tall trees and lighting up the sidewalks with contrasts of green & golden light.

Randy's Weiner

I ventured out into the wilds of far, far away Cloverdale yesterday for a final dinner with my great group of friends at Terry & Sab's place, before they move into their new house (which by all accounts is an amazing 100 year old farmhouse) and is amazingly located even farther away from the rest of us - if that is at all possible. It was great, and I always look forward to our communal gatherings. We all hug each other when we arrive and leave, we all get to kiss all the kids goodnight when it is bed time, and I really take comfort with being close to them, and being surrounded by my friends who are my family.

It was a little over 4 years ago that all of us moved them into their current place from their big rental place in Tsawwassen. (For those of you not up on your local Vancouver geography, Tsawwassen is as far south as you can get in Canada, before getting needlessly intimidated at US Customs. (Fun fact #1 about Twassassen: The Lower Mainland region is the traditional home of the Tsawwassen First Nation people, with their present-day 700-acre reserve located near the Ferry Terminal. The Tsawwassen People are one of 54 Coast Salish nations who traditionally inhabited this land for over 10,000 years). (Courtesy BritishColumbia.com)

It was a grey, rainy, and utterly shitty day 4 or so years ago when all of us descended en masse to move Terry & Sab from Tsawwassen to their new digs in Cloverdale. The rental truck was ready, the friends were ready, and the only thing that wasn't ready, was Terry & Sab. They hadn't finished packing (by a long shot) by the time we arrived. We only had the truck for that day, and had to also stop off at Terry's parent's place to drop off other big heavy things, then make the long trek to Cloverdale. Have I mentioned that they hadn't even come close to finishing packing? Suffice it to say, it was a very, VERY long day which involved multiple trips from Cloverdale, to Tsawwassen (which is approximately 400 miles as the crow flies) back and forth, jamming loose clothing, jewelry, children's toys, and various children into the moving truck. Don't worry though, we lashed the children down with packing tape and wedged them between Terry's freakishly weird large antique cabinet collection, boxes of sharp cutlery, and a few moving blankets to prevent the furniture from being scratched. (Fun Fact #2 about Tsawwassen: Tsawwassen is actually pronounced "soo-WAH-sin" but most lazy people pronounce it "too-WAH-sen").

It was only 4 years ago that we did all this, and yet so much has happened in our lives; Terry & Sab squeezed out the unholy boiling demon (and infinitely adorabole source of amusement) known as Shanie - Pie. Their middle daughter Mia, who when she was 2 weeks old, Doctors told her parents that she was severely retarded, probably blind and would never walk. Yesterday, little Mia sang the ABC song (twice) in front of everyone, to great applause. After which, she demanded more ketchup and ran around the back yard playing with the multitude of other kids who were there only to annoy us. Their oldest daughter Ella, is now a stunningly beautiful girl of 10, who is blessed with movie star good looks, and will be the bane of her father's existence when she starts getting interested in boys in a few years. Randy & Drew got married, moved to a bigger house and adopted little Jack, Bonnie & Steve moved into a newer, bigger house in Richmond, and I bought some sandals. I just found out while there yesterday that the husband of a friend of ours collapsed and died last Tuesday, while she was driving their kid to school. She got back home 20 minutes later and found him on the bathroom floor. He apparently had a heart issue, but something that unexpected really put things into perspective for all of us.

With the extraordinary changes that are happening to all of us (my sandals not withstanding), and with what is going on in the world these days, it's somewhat disconcerting that change keeps sweeping around me, and life keeps moving forward, no matter what.

But, it's equally reassuring that no matter what happens that my good friend Randy can always find the time to wrestle up any sort of joke that is scatalogical, fart related, infantile, or just completely adolescent. So, I submit photographic evidence of the above.

Stay Classy, Vancouver.

Floating Weightless On The Air

(Suffer Never, Neil & Tim Finn, FINN, Rel 1995)

I stumbled across the amazing photo above which was taking on on October 3, 2007, by the HiRISE camera on NASA's Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter. This is the Earth & Moon as viewed from Mars. I thought this was pretty cool. (via boingboing, through FARK, winding up at NASA).

*

It's a couple of months later now, and I'm VERY impressed my recovery rate. After a problematic, (and botched slow start), in truth I was wondering if I'd ever be getting back to some sense of normalcy, the last 4 weeks or so have been fantastic! I see positive results on a weekly basis, and I'm very thankful for my doctors, my physiotherapists and that I haven't succombed to this middle age blight. It was little things that meant the bigger things like; in LA nearly 5 weeks ago, when I was in a hurry to get to a meeting and without thinking about it, was able to put on my sock with no mechanical or otherwise aids. After checking into my hotel in Santa Monica, and having a quick shower, I was naturally late, so with no thought, I bent down and slid my sock over my right foot, and only after did I realize what I'd done I smiled about it like I had just won the Olympics or something.

It was in Cannes where after using the cane for the first 5 days, I said "fuck this" and shelved it, and forced myself to start walking without depending on any additional help (read into that metaphor as you will). But, all those hours on my feet, walking to and from the Palais, to getting home and walking up and down 4 flights of stairs everyday, not to mention being on my feet 15 hours a day, I utilized muscles that needed to be awakened, and had to keep moving forward.

I'm getting stronger, faster, and feeling more human with each passing week. I can't say how glad I am about this. Six short weeks ago, I had to use an elevated toiled seat and sleep on my couch because sleeping in my bed was too painful, and scarf down massive amounts of Oxycondon (10mg God love it) just to get through the days. Now, I'm painkiller free (basically) and today was another shining example of why the sun is always shining. I spent the day cleaning out my closets and my storage locker. Countless trips up and down the stairs, countless times bending over, and picking up heavy stuff to cart down to the dumpster / recycle bins out back of my building. It took all day, and I was thrilled to do it.

**

Speaking of the sun shining, Vancouver has had the WORST June weather since they've been keeping records of it since 1936 or so. Can't say as I'm entirely happy about this, but things can always be worse. Today was also Father's day. For those very few of you who know me, you are familiar with that sad, sad story. I'm not getting mushy about it as whatever will be has been will be but - I was cleaning out my storage locker, and as it is jammed from floor to 10 foot ceiling with stuff, most of it is my Dad's stuff. I'd been hanging on to it for the better part of 6 years as I didn't have the heart to go through it and start getting rid of it. I started to go through it today. some stuff I tossed, a lot of it I kept

So I was basking in my good health, coupled with my obvious natural attractiveness, and I started thinking about my friends who have kids (those poor bastards) so I made a few calls to Randy & Drew, and Sab to wish them the best, and also to reinforce why I never want to have children. Sab's strained voice alone spoke volumes. Last year he met me in France, and then travelled around Spain. This year, We're going to go fishing (read: drinking) sometime in July, and I'm looking forward to spending some time with my friend. He is looking forward to spending any time away from his childen. So it's a symbiotic kind of thing.

***

Either little steps, or giant interplanetary leaps, I'm remembering my Dad, and Gino's Dad, and Randy's Dad, plus - I'm glad to be where I'm at. Wonky hips, friends, the universe, Demon Children and all.

Take Me Anywhere, I Don't Care I Don't Care

I might have mentioned earlier that I've been lucky enough to have known and been with, and consequently screwed up what could have been the perfect relationship (s) with several remarkable women over the years, (I multi-tasked, but in different decades), but last night out of the blue, one of them called me and said she was in the neighborhood, and wanted to drop by for a quick visit. I was shocked, gob-smacked, and a shtickle verklempt.

"After all this time? It's been years!" I thought to myself.

But I quickly got my bearings & sprang into action; I washed some dishes, stuffed the pornography into the oven, removed the out-of-order sign on the bathroom, and doused myself in cologne. (Just kidding - my place was surprisingly porn-free, I smelled nice, and the dishes were already washed, and the apartment freshly scrubbed), and she came over and we split a bottle of wine, caught up, and had our first face-to face- since who knows when. She's happily married, doing well and that's cool, and the fact that we'd been very fond of each other for something like, oh, 16 years or so didn't dampen the fact that I was very glad to see her, as she was me.

Obviously nothing happened, and I was glad nothing happened. After all this time, someone important thought enough of me to call, drop by to catch up. With our circumstances radically different and everything - I thought that was kind of cool.

Below, is the Great Neil Finn, the Great Johnny Marr, with Sebastian Steinberg (Soul Coughing) on Bass, Ed O' Brian & Phil Selway (Radiohead, on Guitar and Drums respectively), and Lisa Germano (John Mellancamp) on Violin, just POUNDING out the Smiths Classic "There is a light that never goes out".


I thought my chance had come at last.

Baby, I'm The One Who Can

It's late, and I should have read, and tabulated my notes on 2 scripts that are due tomorrow morning for a big business deal that we have been circling around, like 4 hours ago. But MY life gets in the way sometimes, and that's all there is to it.

Regardless - I'm going to offer up a quickie: The great, glorious, timeless, ageless, (and the woman who I would crawl miles though broken glass to stand in her garbage) Bonnie Raitt, performing "Love Me Like A Man", accompanied by the equally great James "Hutch" Hutchinson on acoustic bass. She's an ass-kicker and one serious MOFO of a guitar player. Here's Bonnie doing what she does best, and as an added bonus? From one who's been lucky enough to play live... there are some rare times when you are jamming, and everything just clicks... You just look at each other across the stage and just smile at each other. Look for that smile about 2:29 into this:

Hallway Sex

After a long day at work, I got home a little before 9:00 PM wanting to do nothing but drink a glass of something, eat a plate of something, and just sit and be alone with my thoughts. "No computer, no blogging, no extraneous thinking" I commanded myself. Myself actually listened, and indeed I successfully had a few glasses of wine, and a very delightful dinner of a tiny lamb loin accompanied by some grilled asparagus with lemon, and a couple of baked baby potatoes marinated in olive oil and some delightful peppers & spices.

I've been getting introspective of late, and obviously there's been a lot on my mind. Work has been becoming an issue for sure. I love it, but at the same time, I really, REALLY fucking hate it. We are sleeping in separate beds at the moment. Sadly, it's not if, but more appropriately when the eventual hallway sex* will happen.

At this very moment, my heavily tattooed, impossibly good looking next door neighbor (and all around nice guy, that Bastid) Shawn, is currently fucking the brains out of his newest hot waitress girlfriend. How do I know this? Because my kitchen wall adjoins his bedroom wall, and by the sounds of it, his girlfriend is either getting the rogering of her young, 26-ish year old life, or is he's doing something Dahmer-esque). But my Money's on the former, not the latter.

** Update** she is indeed getting what could only be surmised as fuck of the decade, I know this because our windows are all open (it's a nice night here in Vancouver), and to go along with the girl's crazy orgasmic screaming, there is a woman living underneath us on the 3rd floor who has leaned her head out the window and hollered "Shut Upppppppp!" at the top of her lungs, at least twice in the last 5 minutes. I should add that I also feel somewhat unclean, and suddenly feel the need to take a ritual purification bath. God knows what I'm going to say the next time I run into him in the elevator:

"Hey Shawn, I couldn't help but hear that you were doing some brick laying last night...",

Or:

"Hey Shawn, I know that I fall asleep in front of the TV sometimes, and I hope the noise hasn't bothered you while you are fucking your girlfriend as she was screaming her head off".

Or:

"Hey Shawn, you must have been boiling at least three lemurs alive judging by the sounds coming through my wall last night. Do you have a permit to keep exotic animals?"

Or:

"Hey Shawn, does your girlfriend have any friends? Sisters? Pets?"

Regardless, I'll figure something out by tomorrow, or else I'm taking the stairs for the next week or so.

The above picture is a bunch of room keys from the fabulously scuzzy Hotel Carmel, taken during an amazing few nights I spent with an amazing person while in Santa Monica last November. I'm sure there were some annoyed neighbors as well. But hey - it's California - and they probably just turned up the volume on the TV's or stood against the wall with their ears pressed to a drinking glass. However they might have been put out? It was SO worth it. If you don't believe me? Just ask my neighbor, Shawn.

*Hallway sex: "When we were dating we used to fuck on the hood of the car. When we were engaged, we used to fuck on the kitchen table. After we got married? She'd pass by me in the hallway and say "Fuck you".

On an unrelated note - it looks like Barak Obama just won the Stanley Cup or something.

You've been a great audience. I'll be here all week. Don't go changing.

I Glued A Blender To My Face

I've always loved cartoons, I grew up watching the Saturday morning specials of Bugs, Looney Toons, George of the Jungle, BatFink, The Pink Panther, Super Friends, Rocket Robin Hood, Spider Man, Rocky & Bullwinkle and many, many, many more. Once the cartoons were over on TV, it was always the Saturday paper with the pull out cartoons section (after Mom & Dad had read it) and I immersed myself into the Wizard of ID, Hagar the Horrible, For Better or for Worse, and the king of the cartoons, Peanuts. After that, I was out to ride my bike, play road hockey, or go throw rocks at girls.

Recently though, I stumbled over something which I found quite fascinating (although that 300,000 other people have seen this already, and has already been the subject of a Washington Post article - so, there goes my argument about me being on the cutting edge of things). It's called GarfieldMinusGarfield.net, and some mad genius somewhere got the bright idea to take those annoying, insipid Garfield cartoons, and erase Garfield completely, leaving his owner Jon Arbuckle to show to us all a very dark, alarming, sad, and (sometimes touching) portrayal of his goofy lovable owner. I quote from the site: "Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness in a quiet American suburb."

Yes my friends, it's all true, and weirdly addictive. I've always hated Garfield, as do a lot of comic purists (of which of course I'm not. I only dabbling noodler - albeit daily) but that this unfunny cartoon has been published for 20+ years, and making Jim Davis a shit-load of money, hasn't dampened the disaffection of cartoonists and artists all over the world. He has been decried for selling out his art for the sake of coffee mugs with cute little sayings, stick-on cat-car window puppets, t-shirts, and any other chatzke he could license out to make a quick buck ad nauseum. I know that the great, shining heroic examples of cartooning greats like Berkely Breathed and Bill Watterson especially have made Jim Davis a focal point as to why they don't merchandise, or toe the newspapers company line about shrinking comic space, or such. As a passive comic reader (and I mean VERY passive) I agree with them that this is indeed an art form and selling out for the sake of selling out is well... selling out. (Charles "Sparky" Schulz not withstanding of course, because well, he's like the Beatles).

That being said, One of garfieldminusgarfield's occasional readers is Jim Davis, who heard about the site a few months ago. The cartoonist calls the work “an inspired thing to do” and wishes to thank Walsh for enabling him to see another side of “Garfield.” (Courtesy the Washington Post). That he didn't sue was cool as well. He's still a hack, but a non-litigious hack at least.

Take a look for yourself. It's weird, and it gets quite dark, and weird. And it sort of makes sense sometimes. http://garfieldminusgarfield.net/.

I wish this was the Garfield I had growing up.