Month: June 2004

High and Wide


Beckham inadvertantly joins the race for the X-prize

Tough break Engerland. I got to listen to the BBC Live Five audio through the latter end of the afternoon and then zip home to catch the Lampard goal that got you into the penalties. And then there was this a kick like I would have taken in high school. For me the rest is the breaks of a game and getting to penalties is testimony enough. But to miss by twenty feet high and ten feet wide?

Coached the under fives an hour later and the game went on.

Seven Days

Regardless of your position on the election, this photo by Rick Manodik of the Toronto Star surely captures, with seven days to go to the vote, the uncertain place Canada’s third unelected Prime Minister in my adult life finds himself in. I particularly like the unfocused background. I wonder what Martin might think on seeing the photo.

Best Song

On Go this past Saturday, Brent was asking the question what is the best song ever. “London Calling” by the Clash was given much respect from the outset and I once again was amazed listening to the lyrics in the chorus:

The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
Cause London is drowning – I, I live by the river

My grade eleven adoration of this song and the entire double lp was intensified by the title being a reference to the post-colonial relic which was the BBC World magazine London Calling which I happened to have a subscription to, nerd that I am was.

But that is not my pick for best song. It is up there as silver medal winner with “Redemption Song”, “Happy Family” by the Ramones, and every ska tune ever recorded. The winner of first prize has to be Elvis Costello’s “(The Angels Want to Wear My) Red Shoes” which begins:

Oh I used to be disgusted
and now I try to be amused.
But since their wings have got rusted,
you know, the angels wanna wear my red shoes.
But when they told me ’bout their side of the bargain,
that’s when I knew that I could not refuse.
And I won’t get any older, now the angels wanna wear my red shoes.

While The wheat is growing thin is a great line and nuclear fear was the rumbling undertone to my teens, the prospect of the Almighty’s henchmen needing a hand and getting it from a loser who can’t get a date is perfect. Besides, Elvis and me had breakfast for some reason in my last dream this morning (I dropped his toast as I passed it over) and ever since he became a Canadian-in-law I have felt some greater kinship than that of a mere somewhat lapsed fan what with the knowledge that there is a chance one day of him sitting on a sofa sitting eating pork roast and mashed spuds off a TV tray with brothers in law on Grey Cup Day staring at the tube and asking why they are Ti-Cats and what is an oskeeweewee between sips of 50.

Alternative suggestions?