Tag: Me and Mine

Mansbridge Is Not The One

Last time I checked I did not care what was on CBC TV. Not because it is a hot bed of socialism, as some famous bores might go one about, but because it is simply pretty bad. That being said, I am almost moved by this stunned decision:

CBC programming executives scrambled to do damage control yesterday in the wake of a firestorm that erupted after fans of The National learned that the flagship newscast would be bumped eight nights this summer for an American Idol knockoff reality show. After announcing The National’s schedule shift yesterday, The Globe and Mail received 50 e-mail messages from readers enraged that the Peter Mansbridge-led news hour would be pushed back to 11 p.m. on Tuesdays, starting July 18 and ending the first week of September. The program, The One: Making a Music Star, is based on an international format that has been a hit in several territories around the world…

Why so stunned? Why run a show that is available on another channel? Even if it isn’t why run one that is at least fourth in line for the summer reality show market? The dumbest and therefore best of the summer talent shows is the new America Has Talent which brings David Hasselhoff back to North America after three decades thrilling central Europe in a format which is basically The Gong Show. Canadian hearts and minds are already caught up by Canadian Idol and the issue of what new goofball shirt Ben Mulroney will wear this time. The best of the best has surprisingly shown itself to be So You Think You Can Dance in which people with actual artisitic skill display their actual artistic skills. I know it is proof that I am entering the years of my dotage that I like the show and think, short of sports, it is the best thing on TV. But it is. So there.

That all being the case, why is the CBC buying a likely dud and disrupting its base in the blue rinse and corduroy vest crowds…does anyone else watch CBC TV?…oh, yes…the members of the Canadian Senate.

World Cup Warm-Up Week: How Am I?

It is not without some concern that I note tomorrow is 6-6-6 but I can’t let that take away from my World Cup planning. So far I have established pretty much that there is maybe a game Sunday for the lads in orange. And that is about it. I think I am in Maine for the final om July 9th which means I may have to bear the slings of portland as I try to explain why seven of the eleven guys playing for Brazil have different versions of the name Ronald on their jerseys.

P’raps I will watch some animated highlights of England’s win over Jamaica from the BBC’s Virtual Replay pages so as to get more in the mood. Six to nothing. That’ll be just like the games to come against Argentina or Germany. Sure it will.

Thinking About Stuff As I Wait

I try to organize my life so as to not think about stuff too much. Ben is in that unhappy phase of life when he has to think too much and such consequences resulted that I felt compelled to give the advice that Oldie Olsons always give. But here in the moment when there are ribs basted enough for now, one kid having the nap he needed and the other of to learn another smidge about the piano there is that moment to think. And what do I think about? The high cost of banjos, that’s what. I go looking for a decent one to buy for a fella and we are looking at $600 price tags. Dear oh dear. How is the world going to be moved to take on the plunkity-plunk as its own universal voice of peace if we are looking at $600 bucks a pop when there are decent enough $125 start-up models to be had for the wise internationalist shopper. So I will defer again and buy south. And why not when the currency exchange is going in the right direction.

After I thought about that for a while, I realized I have mislaid my copy of Lew Bryson’s New York Breweries. I hate that, not having a work of that importance right at hand just when I was going to make a pithy observation about it in my review of A Good Beer Guide To New England, as important a work of art as I have come across in these few years the Lord has spared for me. Worst of all, Lew knows I have read it so I can’t hit him up for a review copy. Dang nab it. Cornered myself. By the way, each of you really ought to go buy these books.

So then I was done thinking about that and had a nap and then basted the ribs again and I was pretty much done thinking and I was checking out blogs I like and I noted that Junk Store Cowgirl, my favorite Rochesterian read, is truly down for the count – sad I thought…unless it is not sad, unless packing it in was good. Maybe she was able to see something ahead that Ben can’t yet see for him. And then I thought about the ribs again. Fine looking ribs.

So what do you do with all this? I say build upon it. I’ve been in places where you find an end or a corner but I much prefer the times I find a foundation of the next thing. Something is going to come of those ribs and something is going to come of that beer review. I’ll likely find that copy of Lew’s book as well. Maybe even something’ll come of the banjo. Yesterday or the day before, driving in rain and listening to American Routes I heard a jug band recording that featured not only a banjo but a trombone and banjo – maybe it was “Bring It With You When You Come” by Cannon’s Jug Stompers now that I check the playlist. Worse ways to head towards the mid-forties as we pass on though the mid-decade than to build on those two new things plus the ribs and the beer…though a mute for the trombone might be in order.

Radio Orchestra

I had no idea there was one of these still around:

Trombonist and composer Alain Trudel has been named the principal conductor of the CBC Radio Orchestra. He’ll officially take over musical leadership this fall at the Vancouver-based orchestra, North America’s only radio orchestra.

I am sure this puts me a few rungs down the ladder if any of you are CBC 2 types but I can only go so far to accommodate you people. But, really – who knew? What we really need is a state light orchestras. And state ale, cake, (pipe) and tea houses where they might play. One pal has a father-in-law who is/was a member of a state folk orchestra. Followed him around with brass band players for the days before his wedding. Best wedding video ever: there’s your pal, there’s central Europe, there’s the om-pah band. That is what the CBC needs to bring to the nation.

Friday Chat From The Road

Here I am in the lobby of the Comfort Inn in East Greenbush NY a little east
of Albany (an excellent
spot I might add) when what do my eye’s perceive? Gary’s
lament:

(trembling slightly….)
but, Alan, if you’re on
the road…wh-wh-ooo wiiilll run Friday chat? We, we we gotta have our
fix…..
(shakes, shudders, pale trembling face…)

So it is both
with a warm heart and yet a feeling somewhat like coming to terms with one’s
stalker that we have today’s Friday chat from the road:

  • Highway hotels are a favorite thing of mine. They play much the same role as
    airport terminals. You are in transit. It is not like a resport hotel or one in
    your favorite destination for an urban fix. Gotta have a pool, gotta have
    snacks, free breakfast and a gas station nearby that doesn’t give you the
    creeps. This particular gas station here has large bottles from nearby Ommegang
    as well as a Dunkin Donuts outlet. You got to love that: local craft for the
    beer during the Phillies and Braves and generic international for the morning
    zap. This sort of travel is also something in that style of being nowhere and
    anywhere. I really have no time to learn anything about East Greenbush NY and I
    do not want it foisted upon me. I want pleasing dislocation because by 10 am
    I’ll be gone. Like a Gordon Lightfoot song with someone who will bring you more
    pillows if you just dial the front desk and ask.

  • While on the road, even if just since 4 pm yesterday, you immediately get a
    sense that you don’t know what is going on. US sports talk radio doesn’t help.
    Why Canada can’t sustain a sports talk radio network when every city over 75,000
    in the US has its own local guy going on about the local team is beyond me.
    Yesterday I got a very good hour from WHEN 620 on the AHL team for
    Syracuse, the Crunch, and their prospects in the upcoming first round of the
    playoffs against the Mantiboa Moose. Imagine the guy in Syracuse who is fixated
    on taking apart the Manitoba Moose in four: Crush them! Crush them!

  • Apparently, according to Dick, George gave Dick and George the right to
    declassify information in an executive order. But
    Dick won’t say when they used it, who else has the general power and won’t (I am
    assuming maybe) show anyone the actual executive order. This is a lot like a
    general warrant, something barred by the US constitution, which was an
    appointment of an officer by the British pre-Revolution to search anywhere
    anytime on suspicion. It is much better for accountability and transparency to
    make folk write down on a piece of paper what facts exist and why they are
    relying on a power in like of those facts so that there is something to test the
    use of the power against. One would hope that the executive order would contain
    a test as well – a purpose which justifies declassification – so that if the
    purpose does not exist then a declassification would be unwarranted. And the
    scope of the disclosure as well. Not defining who gets to
    know     is fairly stunned, like the time Dad let the mouse out of the cage
    without shutting the door to the room. Lots of scurrying where you never
    expected you’d be scurrying.

  • If the Jays really are good this year, I know I will bandwagon with the best
    of them, I will say I liked them when – and frankly having watched them when
    there was nothing else to watch during the Jose Cruz Jr era I am owed that
    right. But it sure is depressing listening to them beat
    the Red Sox     for the second night in a row. Tonight, however, Ichiro is
    at Fenway. I love Ichiro. I try to excell at all things in life if only to be
    like the tiniest speck of grey in the shadow of the man that is Ichiro. I will
    drive though southern Vermont and New Hampshire today on highway 9 in an
    Ichiro-like manner.

Well, there you are time to get the DD java and
wake everyone up. Miles to go before I see the sea.

Opening Day

Here it is. The beginning of the good part of the year. Baseball begins tonight and I am already figuring out how and when to make the drive to Cooperstown – maybe even for the Hall of Fame game. Four and a half hours according to Google but I think it is more like three and a half if Syracuse is two from here.

Baseball’s beginning also means eyeing those two Watertown Wizards double headers on the Canada Day long weekend. Maybe a game at Auburn or Syracuse or Ottawa as well. Staying away from major league tickets means you can take the family to half a dozen games instead of buying a good pair of tickets to one.

This year I play catch. I am taking my glove to Maine in two weeks and, just for the record, note that Binghampton’s in town then. Maybe I’ll buy a bat and get the kids some mitts as well and start working on their double play. Six ain’t too young – not if you want to make sure they are more interested in the game rather than something grimly isolating like fly fishing or reading. And then there are those Sox games on the car radio fading in after sunset from 1080 Hartford. And on the computer during the day.

When does it get to be too much? How many times does it take for ice cream to become boring?

Update: A few lessons learned. First, price objects of kids’ desire before exposing kids to those objects. What they do not know will not hurt you. Second, Walmart has a good range of well made little kid gloves which are are sized by the inch. The lad got a ten and herself an eleven and a half. Who knew? Canadian Tire, no so much but it may just be that the stock is not out yet because hockey season lasts until July, dontcha know. Third, test the glove by having kid hold ball in glove and turn glove over to see if kid can hold ball in glove while shaking. Passing that test move on to the grip test wherein the kid with glove on tries to keep it on as you try to tug it off. This test can be confused with the no-kid-you-are-not-getting-the-129-buck-glove situation so be clear on the verbal instructions at that moment. Finally, good to see a league baseball is still under five bucks, though you no longer get them in individual boxes.

Now, off to throw three throws, roll my ankle and lay on the ground as the kids say “Gedup! Gedup!” knowing ten years from now in the same situation they will not be as kind.

Friday + Bullet Points = Chat

That is the magic formula, the secret to all idle thought and a crushing blow to economic production. Even though this is the shortest weekend of the year, it is still worth anticipation and therefore chattery:

  • British Columbia is passing an Apology Act. Here is the text in first reading. It is a little wee law that basically says you can say you are sorry for something without that being used against you. It does not mean that you are excused for the thing you are apologizing for but it does also mean the apology in itself does not serve as a GOTCHA! sort of thing. It is an interesting idea as ultimately there is no real barrier to legal action and, frankly, if you do apologize you are still highlighting that there may be a case to be brought against you if someone were to investigate further. But it speaks to civility and also levels the community so that, say, a professional who has done something they are not comfortable with but which is within the realm of normal non-perfection can actually say “Oops” or maybe something even kinder.

  • It’s been a rather adult week around here between applying for a mortgage and growning out my sideburns. I am under orders on the latter point. The trouble is I do not have the most robust near-ear fuzz and what is there is snowy white as is my whole beard now. That is why I shave – to look more 37 rather than 57. But apparently the suggestioning of a mini-moutasche near each of my temples is an important fashion statement so on I go.

  • Speaking of manliness…am I the only one who is noting our new Prime Minister is getting rather large rather quickly? As a fellow traveller in this regard, it concerns. Heaviness especially at pace is not necessarily good for you. I know, I know…but some people actually are saying so. Here is my evidence over time. He has even taken to wearing gut covering vests when he is in the stinking hot jungle while the guys from Texas and Mexico wear thin searsucker. I don’t expect he is a devotee of the beery world so what is he up to? Is he a secret pastries man? A two litre a day of Coke guy? What does a nerdy policy wonk do to get out of shape this fast? But if he wants to do it well, he really should get in touch with me. Two words: boston chocolate.  Again, the man needs my help.

  • Oh, yes. I went on a cable TV splurge just to check it out. Last year, I signed up for a movies/super-station package and got the Friday night Red Sox game. OK, I signed up for the Friday night Red Sox game and happened to get a movies/super-station package. But then the Super station lost the Friday night game rights. What to do? Well, dump the uber-transmissions and get the sports. 1600 baseball games. Seven bucks more. But what about the east coast stations? Nothing like watching Carl Wells on CBC Newfoundland tell about how the Burin is getting battered by storms again this week. One day I fully expect him to have a panicked look mid-hurricane and turn to the camera screaming “SWEET JESUS IN THE MANGER! WE’VE LOST FOGO!!!”. So that’s another seven. Then for another four bucks or so they guy on the phone said – I clearly heard him say this – “we can turn the tap on full.” Best value, too, said he. So now we have 247 channels. Including One, the channel so generically named you can’t find it on Google unless you use the counter-intuitive long form of the name: One – the Body, Mind & Spirit channel. My leafy green consumable and skin balm awareness is expanding as I sit here. I know it is.