Month: March 2006

Ontario: Bar Volo, Yonge Street, Toronto

volo1The other day, when I did rock, we headed up Yonge Street in Toronto to finish the evening at Volo, a much discussed beer bar amongst the Bar Towelling set. With very good reason as well. While I wasn’t able to take my camera and get some shots, I can tell you that the place seats about 40, is something of a cheery jumble of mismatched antiques, plants and beer bottles and has the feel of rec room meeting a cafe. Certain Bear Republic quarts noted. Like a walk-in stash with knowledgable staff. Very nice and, frankly, a brave effort given the legal loops they must have to go through to amass the well chosen and properly handled collection. As a result, the prices are honest and sometimes even bracing but just don’t go every night and you will be OK, OK? Here are some directional hints for Volo.

We were not there for long but I got to try a few firsts. I had a bottle of the barley wine Fred by Hair of the Dog and my brother’s split a large La Chouffe. I also tried Church-Key Brewing’s new biere de garde on tap. I really wish I had had my camera as I remember looking at the chalk board thinking “they don’t make a BdG!?!” and here I am thinking that I am going to find a reference on the bar or brewer’s web site as to its existence and I find nothing. [Later: Bar Towel News Services has more on this new BdG. I think this is the style of the next two years.]

The Fred was a big rich ale, green hop and with chocolate notes in the malt supported by creamy yeast. In a way, a little light for a ten percent ale as it was neither hot or spicy. The La Chouffe was pear juicey cream rich and round with a nice burlappy hop. I also wrote parsley potato. I will leave you to judge the state of my note taking. La Chouffe is at the SAQ, Quebec’s government store, so if I have to do a trip east this summer, I may survive on a case picked up in Trois Riviere. The Church-Key was slightly uncious with a honest but sort of quiet spud peel biere de garde mouth feel. But it was also pale malt grainy making me think it was sort of like their stock ale with a healthy nod towards biere de garde. Milky yeast and soft water, low hopping and medium to low carbonation. If the brew actually exists, that is.
cwbeerEarlier in the day, pre-rocking, supper was a buffalo burger at C’est What, a great tap restaurant which I have written about before. My first beer was a Denison Weisse, a hefe of lemon cream cut by a swath of weedy seet hop greens. Lively and prickley carbonation and a really nice grainy wheat texture. I also had a Black Oak Nut Brown, a good honest pint of dusty cocoa with twig-green hop, a milky yeast and pale grain roughness. C’est What is a great comfy basement bar with that most excellent of seating technology, the sofa.

So all in all – with a stop at the Queen’s Quay LCBO with its well-stocked and staffed beer corner as well as a decent beer book find – it was a very successful beer related run into the Big Smoke.

Hall Of Fame

The other day when I did rock, I stood for a moment before the tour t-shirts and decided that, no, I would not buy one for 40 bucks even though there was a brown one with orange printing displaying the large Queen crest on the front. It was not that I would not have occassion to wear it or that I could not find the 40 bucks in the wallet. It was that I could not foresee it entering the hall of fame, that particular pile of t-shirts, soccer jerseys, ballcaps and hoodies that are retired from active use to be pulled out at the right moment years from now seemingly unworn yet displaying information from a point decades past.

There are not enough in the Hall of Fame as I was not as careful in the past as I might have been but that is no reason to judge unwisely and presume. That the 1988 Bill Bragg T is too thin now is testimony to its beauty. That the 1970s “Radio Sweden: Keep In Touch” T from high school is now appropriated by others does not mean its place on the shelf should now be filled by another. Yet entropy is and, despite best efforts, the temptation to wear causes wear and tear and, like ourselves, these things do fade. But for the decade, the brown Queen tour T with the orange ink may well have deserved the place in the pile.

Friday Later-Better-Than-Neverer Chat


Rocking for Al as excellently portrayed in today’s Star

Back. Just like that. Two hours and a bit ago I was in Toronto and now I am not. Intercity highways are the business:

  • Here is the question: Queen – yea or nay? The concert was good value. I realized along with the elder brothers that our Queen existed from 1973 to 1978 or so. The extended occupation with 80’s pop Queen was a bit wearying but there was enough of the 70s metalesque Queen to satisfy. This morning, under sunny sky scrapers, I bought Queen II, their 1974 version of Led Zep’s Houses of the Holy with its own take on the world of orcs and other LOTR-y-ness, at Sams on Yonge to honour my early teens properly. The role of Paul Rodgers, of Free and Bad Company, playing the role of Not Freddy was well done. He was on the stage 2/3s of the time with a tape of the late Fred doing half of “Bohemian Rhapsody.” At moments Rogers was like the dream of David Brent to be Paul Rogers fronting Queen in a reunion tour. But it was good as an expression of both pre-punk and 80s pop.
  • What else is going on? I have a sense that my NCAA picks are all wrong but I think I am one with all of North American manhood on that one.
  • Ze life sometimes provides somethings which better than trying to make up ze jokes.
  • Cambridge Suites in Toronto is a good place. It has all the things I like in a slightly more than cheapest place to crash. It actually has different little spaces so it is cheaper to put two brothers in one suite than getting two hotels rooms. It has a fridge and a bar fridge – one for my beer which is good and costs and honest price and one for their overly prices corn sugar buzz water. It is well located near C’est What (where I ate a burger with the meat of two mammals) and what other places people might like to go in Toronto. It is also a skip off the Don Valley Parkway, the parkway through the Valley of the Don, which makes it slightly like not being downtown in a bigger city.

Two more thoughts. I was impressed how the exposure of shoulder musculature was key to the entertainment experience at the concert. I was unimpressed how the lady in front of me – devoid of any sense of rhythm or shame as she was – had secretly for years harboured the secret love of “Radio Ga Ga” and unleashed her spastic passion therefore directly in front of me. I never knew there was something other than finding a cat air in one’s mouth that made one feel like one had found a cat hair in one’s mouth.

Post Post

I was wondering when I would feel that we have entered a new phase, a post post 9/11 era. I sort of felt it when I read this this morning:

The number of police officers patrolling the Halifax port is about to be cut by two-thirds, CBC News has learned. For several years, nine Halifax Regional Police officers have been providing security at the port 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Those officers also patrolled the harbour waters, checking for drunk boaters and safety violations. But sources say that security force is about to be scaled back to only three officers patrolling the water and the entire port. Starting in two weeks, there will be no officers working the night shift and no water patrols on weekends.

I was surprised that the 3/11 passed this year without a peep of a 3 and 1/2th reference. And the fact that Pakistan has lost the track of Osammy is now yesterday’s news after Musharraff heading out to watch a cricket match in India.

Either one of two things will happen: something or nothing.

The Flying Tram Of Sport

Oh for the life of the sporting event opening ceremonies organizer. With this year of Winter Olympics, World Cup and even the World Baseball Classic, the opening of the Commonwealth Games has not had the usual attention it would have in Canada normally. But it is clearly our loss as someone realized the dove wings of peace could be scotch-taped to a trolley car, as caught in its flight by the BBC. The message? Sport is good. Remember it is not what it is, it is what is symbolizes. Symbolissimo maximo. The good folks at the TTC will no doubt be gnashing their teeth at this rug being pulled out from under their feet, the opportunity lost forever, for one may never copy the whims of other opening ceremonies organizers. Never more will we see elves bum sliding down a hill given we have seen Norwegian elves bum sliding down a hill in Lillehammer.

A prize for anyone who can find a website dedicated to the art of the opening ceremonies organizing industry.

Incredibly Sad

Without getting into the politics, this news strikes me as simply incredibly sad:

The bodies of more than 85 executed men have surfaced across Baghdad in the past two days, in Sunni and Shiite neighborhoods, providing graphic proof, yet again, of sectarian mayhem. Many bodies bore marks of torture — badly beaten faces, gagged mouths and rope burns around the neck — though it remains unclear who is responsible.

The article reports fear that the killings are by “police commandoes” but that is unknown:

The widespread suspicion is that many executions are the handiwork of death squads backed by the Shiite-controlled Interior Ministry. On the other side are well-organized Sunni insurgents, quite skilled at killing, too. One result is a slow strangling of whatever had remained of normal life: shops are closing earlier, people are hunkering down and politicians are feeling squeezed. Iraqis elected a new Parliament in December, but until now, political leaders have been wrangling over the composition of a new government.

You feel it is banal even to make any observation at all. Maybe it is my age but I think of a view of a bridge at the beginning of the Balkan War with people trapped among gun fire. I think of sitting in the school bus in junior high listening to the end of the Vietnam war or, later, revelations of Cambodia. It flows over you day ater day until you notice enough to thank God it is not here and then it flows over you again.

Hello Computer

Which is worse during bachelor week? Talking to the cats or the computer. At
least the computer does not run away when it sees you. But being cats they make
you do things through the power of staring…like making you think it is Friday
and making you want to post stories in bullet format.

  • Update: this
    story on NCPR     on the difference between Iraq and Afghanistan from the point
    of view of a US solder was very interesting.

  • As a public service announcement, this Thursdsay’s rocking out with brothers
    at the Queen concert in Toronto will likely pre-empt Friday chat-fest. It is an
    odd thing going to Queen in a way as for years I entirely rejected the band but,
    in 1986 when working in Holland in a wholesale cut flower packing auction house,
    I heard a top 100 of all time and #1 was Bohemian Rhapsody. This was
    pre-Wayne’s World but it was my first experience of the post-punk
    restoration of Freddy and the lads to classic rock status. Question: ought I buy
    a lighter for waving at certain moments? I know I have to buy ear plugs. I like
    the music but I sure don’t like the racket.

  • You know, Ian is a daily read but – even after years – the other worldliness
    of his experience sometimes strikes me. Today he recounts the dramatic passing
    of an ’80s game show host.

  • I think Hans is going to win the NCAA pool even though there is a whole day
    to get the picks in. Why? I am simple stunned at anyone actually taking the time
    to think about these pool questions. Ooops. I just realized I forgot the cricket
    bonus points. Maybe 25 points for a short compare and contrast essay on the
    relative impact of cricket on the West Indies and Gerry McNamara on Syracuse.
    While Deadspin has an incredible amount of detail on the NCAA first round, I don’t think you will
    find a cheat sheet on that particular question.

  • There is something goofy about PM Steven Harper that I am starting to like.
    True, he is sort of pudgy and mid-40-ish like me but there is that smile of a
    ten year old with a new box full of Hot Wheels cars that seems to be without
    pretense. I think his trip
    to Afghanistan     was a very good idea and while it is not the sort of thing
    that is going to sway my vote on this one point I am much more with him than
    Jack!, though I do admire the moustacheoed one for sticking to unpopular stances
    against
    the flow     when an easier path is available.

  • The Commonwealth
    Games     are starting soon. Who knew? I still hold the hope of taking off as a
    lawn bowler in about ten years to take Gold for Canada in 2030, singing the
    national anthem teary eyed in natty white slacks.

Well there you go.
The cats are staring at me so I now have to make some changes to my bank
accounts. I must. Then, I am off to buy new larger cat carriers. Cat treats,
too. I obey.

Time to Sell?

As usual, the Flea has exposed my real intentions in writing here day after day after pathetic day – the dream of undeserved riches. Well, apparently that dream is no longer a waste of time as the NYT reports that pickings are slim but wallets are fat in the bubbly economic world of web buy-outs:

Media companies are still hungry. Is there much left for them to consume that they’ll find satisfying? NBC Universal’s $600 million acquisition of iVillage, an early Internet company catering to women, highlights the continuing interest by media companies in adding new Web sites to reach and connect with consumers, hobbyists, parents, investors, car buyers, Scrabble players and virtually every other niche audience.

Scrabble players? Investors?!? Phft!!! How obvious. How structured. Doesn’t the world of mega finance know that the real wealth of the web is to be found in the drifty and derivative? Like the products of GX40 MegaCo International.

Now, how to pitch the deal? Maybe a merger or two will have to start the ball rolling. If the Flea joined forces with A Good Beer Blog you might have a new blog called Toast of the Flea in which the beer and other beverage tastes of really skinny often hypercephalic celebrities are shared. I’ll have to work on this.  But it’s looking gold.

Alternative Reality

When I think of all the promises that information technology has made but not followed through on, this is the sort of futurificationing that most alarms me:

The divide that separates people from their online lives will utterly disappear. Instead of leaving behind all those net-based friends and activities when you walk out of your front door, you will be able to take them with you. The buddies you have on instant message networks, friends and family on e-mail, your eBay auctions, your avatars in online games, the TV shows you have stored on disk, your digital pictures, your blog – everything will be just a click away.

It could also kick off entirely new ways of living, working and playing. For instance, restaurant reviews could be geographically tagged so as soon as you approach a cafe or coffee shop, the views of recent diners could scroll up on your handheld gadget. Alternative reality games could also become popular. These use actors in real world locations to play out the ultimate interactive experience.

The promise of the review-laden world has been with us for well over a decade, before the internet when personal computing as being updated by CD-rom mailouts. Yet it is still a shock to find more than three reviews of anything on a site like expedia when you are looking for, say, hotel information. How does the human, disinterested in helping strangers by writing opinions provided for free, populate the world of content in this new world. That human won’t. There would need to be a model of exchange of idea to trigger an increase of participation beyond folks like me with foolish dreams of $2,000 a month from Google ads. But no one will pay me a nickle for my thoughts now – will anyone pay everyone for any of theirs?

But beyond that – why the brave new world of staring at a wrist watch screen wherever you go? What is so wrong with the people physically near you that you would want to exchange them for digial strangers? Again, for geeks of which I am of “C” grade, the transition is already in place. Is it that real is not play? It should be. Is it that real is not play that you rarely have the option of clearly winning? The digital world allows each Rob and Victor to know victories and even robberies that would never be possible in reality. It is any different than striving to be the guy who got the most points in the arcade? What kind of backbone would a society have if that actually became the pervasive goal?