Photo by erjkprunczýk, used under Creative Commons license

“Is he a very great wizard, or is he more like you?”

J.R.R. Tolkien’s book The Hobbit is almost a part of my family. I’d had it read to me, in parts, multiple times when I was very little and would get sick. I don’t remember, but suspect I was whining that I wanted someone to read to me, and my dad decided that if he was going to read something it’d be something good. I read it myself later, but forgot most of it. I read it again shortly after I moved to Toronto, not long before Peter Jackson began making his Lord Of The Rings trilogy. I rediscovered those books as well, and fell in love with Jackson’s films. So I was more than a little excited when he announced he’d be making a film version of The Hobbit (imdb | rotten tomatoes) as well.

I’ll admit, though, that a crazy schedule kept me from going the first few weekends after its release, after which middling reviews (of the film, and of the 3Dish technology in which it was displayed) discouraged me further. But once again, family intervened: my brother told me the middling reviews centered mainly around the difference in tone of the film vs. the LOTR trilogy…which shouldn’t have surprised anyone, given the difference in tone between the books. So, armed with that knowledge, the convenience of on-demand TV, and a long weekend we settled in to watch it.

And it was pretty good. Not amazing, mind you…just pretty good. It’s suffering a bit from Jackson’s (or the studio’s?) desire to stretch a small book over three long films, but Tolkien packed a lot in those pages. And while I knew Dwarf songs were coming, that doesn’t mean I liked it. It also felt a little like they’ve fallen a bit too in love with the CGI, but not disastrously so.

I’m quite looking forward to the next adventure now though, so…mission accomplished.

.:.

Photo by erjkprunczýk, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, used under Creative Commons license

Two worlds

Cross another Toronto beer hot spot off the list: last night we tried Stout Irish Pub on Carlton. It was a busy place, being open on (Good) Friday night, so we took the last two spots at the bar, ate dinner (meh; my spicy chicken sandwich was just okay, while they actually brought Nellie the completely wrong soup), and tried some new beers. I had a Wellington Terrestrial Brown Ale, a Sawdust City Skinny Dipping With Friends Stout, and a Dieu du Ciel Grande Noirceur before we shared a large bottle of Church Key Zwei Welten Dunkelweizen Bock. So, to sum up: good beer and friendly bartenders, but not in the real top tier of beer places in the city. Still, a solid choice in a part of town without much to offer, beer-wise.

Speaking of pubs: earlier that day, while out for some lunch at the Jason George, a little girl — maybe 8 or 9 years old — walked up to our table and just took fries off my plate. So that happened.

.:.

Photo by Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by Thomas Hawk, used under Creative Commons license

The kid

I watch lots of hockey. Lots and lots and lots. In fact I’m watching a Montreal Canadiens game, en Français, as I write this. I’ve also been to a fair number of games now, mostly at the ACC, as my work sometimes affords me a chance to go. I feel bad about that — I despise the Leafs, and feel bad taking a seat from someone who would dearly love to see a game, but don’t want to be rude to those who invite me, and anyway still enjoy seeing the game played live. You just don’t get a sense, watching it on TV, how fast and fluid the game is.

Last Thursday I was lucky enough to see the Leafs play host to the Pittsburgh Penguins. I’d actually seen that match-up live once before, but with a key difference: Sidney Crosby didn’t play the first time. Last week I got to see the best player in the world live.

To be honest, it freaked me out a little. Like I said, I watch a lot of hockey, and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading the play, spotting the open man, guessing where the next pass will go, identifying openings and seams which — if exploited — could lead to a goal. So, normally when I watch a game I feel like I’m about half a second ahead of the play. But not with Crosby. With Crosby, I was behind. Actually, I was completely out of the play. Two or three times he passed the puck somewhere I hadn’t been expecting, to a space I didn’t know was occupied until his teammate had the puck on his stick. Like the one at the 2:38 mark in this video, behind his back to Pascal Dupuis who was so open Crosby was likely the only player on either team who knew he was there.

The Pens came from behind to beat the Leafs 3-1, and I got to see Sidney Crosby play, so I was a happy guy.

Oh, and we had dinner at Aria before the game, my first time there. It was…just okay. I wouldn’t go out of my way to go back, but it’s certainly better than most other options that close to the ACC.

.:.

Photo by Thomas Hawk, used under Creative Commons license

Image by GOTSfile, used under creative commons license

“You think I’m not serious just because I carry a rabbit?”

Here’s how we’ve spent our last 72 hours (work notwithstanding):

  • Yummy beers at Bar Hop
  • The Game of Thrones exhibit at the Design Exchange, which was small, but free, and not at all bad. Just got me even more excited for March 31st.
  • Meat at Triple A
  • Dinner at Richmond Station, our first time back since Nellie’s birthday. We didn’t have a reservation, but they managed to find us a table upstairs…a cool space, since you can see the kitchen preparing the dishes. Just like the first time the food was good, and the service/servers were excellent. It’s quickly becoming one of my very favourite places in the neighbourhood.
  • Watched Seven Psychopaths (imdb | rotten tomatoes), made by the director of In Bruges. Very entertaining. Christopher Walken, man. Just…yeah.
  • Safe House (imdb | rotten tomatoes) was pretty meh, but at least it gave us an early preview of Cape Town.

.:.

Image by GOTSfile, used under creative commons license

“Who are you killing next? Do you take requests? Because I was thinking maybe some Kardashians.”

Two recent movie watches, one drawing some laughs intentionally, the other not so much.

God Bless America (imdb | rotten tomatoes) was Bobcat Goldthwait’s third feature in the last few years. It’s a funny, if clumsy, cri de couer against the vanity and banality of reality TV, radio shock jocks, bloviating political pundits, and other forms of celebrated hatefulness in popular culture. The best part was how following each killing of a mean person by the everyman protagonist, the media’s attempt to blame something simple and headline-y (terrorists! violent movies!) rather than look for a pattern. Anyway, it’s a nice — though extremely violent — anti-stupid fantasy for those of us who hate TMZ and Glenn Beck.

Nellie was determined to watch the remake of Red Dawn (imdb | rotten tomatoes), even though it carries a 12% rating and was rewritten and delayed for ages. I like how Rotten Tomatoes summed it up: “The rebooted Red Dawn lacks the original’s topicality, but at least pays tribute in delivering the same short shrift to character development and general logic.” I mean, they didn’t even leave in the iconic scene — the one good thing about the original — of hundreds of parachutes falling quietly to the ground outside the school’s windows. Instead, we get a cutting-room-floor scene from Friday Night Lights and a Camaro with a minigun mounted on top. Blech.

Photo courtesy of brizzle born and bred, used under Creative Commons license

The fifty best Bob Dylan songs

Most people who get sick with a cold or the flu just curl up in bed or watch a dumb movie on TV. Not my dad. Here’s the story my brother and I got from my mom a couple weeks ago:

“When Dad was sick with a cold last week I bought the current Rolling Stone Magazine because it had Bob Dylan’s picture on it and flipping through, I saw there was an interview, so thought it might help him pass some time. I did not look at the back, but apparently the Rolling Stone panel had selected the top 100 Dylan songs and because they don’t all match Dad’s choices, he has asked me to share his list and their rankings with you.”

He asked my mom to send it to us because, of course, my dad doesn’t have anything to do with computers. So, my brother and I made lists of our own. Here’s mine:

  1. “Like A Rolling Stone”
  2. “Maggie’s Farm”
  3. “Not Dark Yet”
  4. “Subterranean Homesick Blues”
  5. “House Carpenter”
  6. “The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll”
  7. “When The Ship Comes In”
  8. “With God On Our Side”
  9. “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”
  10. “The Times They Are A-Changin'”
  11. “Masters Of War”
  12. “Highlands”
  13. “Baby, Let Me Follow You Down”
  14. “Cold Irons Bound”
  15. “Forever Young”
  16. “When I Paint My Masterpiece”
  17. “Tombstone Blues”
  18. “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35”
  19. “Girl from the North Country”
  20. “Seven Curses”
  21. “Desolation Row”
  22. “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”
  23. “High Water (For Charley Patton)”
  24. “Most Of The Time”
  25. “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right”
  26. “Boots Of Spanish Leather”
  27. “Ballad Of A Thin Man”
  28. “I Shall Be Released”
  29. “The Ballad Of Hollis Brown”
  30. “Tomorrow Is A Long Time”
  31. “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues”
  32. “Kingsport Town”
  33. “Highway 61 Revisited”
  34. “Dirt Road Blues”
  35. “Drifter’s Escape”
  36. “Outlaw Blues”
  37. “All Along The Watchtower”
  38. “Blowin’ In The Wind”
  39. “Who Killed Davey Moore?”
  40. “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”
  41. “Love Sick”
  42. “Where Teardrops Fall”
  43. “Mama, You Been On My Mind”
  44. “Foot Of Pride”
  45. “Someday Baby”
  46. “Thunder On The Mountain”
  47. “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum”
  48. “Man In The Long Black Coat”
  49. “Everything Is Broken”
  50. “The Levee’s Gonna Break”

I looked at neither my dad’s list nor my brother’s before making my own, but not surprisingly there was some crossover:

  • Three songs were in both my top ten list and my dad’s: “Like A Rolling Stone”, “The Times They Are A-Changin'”, and “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”
  • Four songs were in both my top ten list and brother’s: “Like A Rolling Stone”, “The Times They Are A-Changin'”, “The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll”, and “Maggie’s Farm”
  • My dad and brother crossed over on only two: “Like A Rolling Stone” and “Desolation Row”.
  • Obviously “Like A Rolling Stone” was the only song to make all of our top ten lists. My brother and I both independently ranked it #1. So, in what seemed a rather obvious move, did Rolling Stone. My dad claims his top ten was “not in order”, but “Like A Rolling Stone” was listed first, so I’m holding him to that and saying that we all picked it.

My dad’s top ten, by the way:

  • “Like a Rolling Stone”
  • “Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”
  • “Desolation Row”
  • “Blowin’ In The Wind”
  • “Forever Young”
  • “Girl From the North Country”
  • “Highlands”
  • “Farewell Angelina”
  • “She Belongs To Me”
  • “High Water”

And my brother’s:

  1. “Like a Rolling Stone”
  2. “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll”
  3. “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands”
  4. “Desolation Row”
  5. “Blind Willie McTell”
  6. “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”
  7. “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”
  8. “Masters of War”
  9. “The Times They Are a-Changin'”
  10. “Maggie’s Farm”

.:.

Photo courtesy of brizzle born and bred, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by boyce duprey, used under creative commons license

“It’s all a deep end.”

Like me, many of you probably remember an awful movie coming out in the mid-90s called Judge Dredd (imdb | rotten tomatoes), in which Sylvester Stallone droned “I AM THE LAW” and all but ruined the character for anyone who’d read the comic book. I wasn’t even aware it had been a comic book — it was bigger in the UK than here — until Dredd (imdb | rotten tomatoes) showed up in last year’s TIFF lineup…Midnight Madness, specifically, which made sense given the violence on offer.

I hesitate to call it a remake — what I remember of that awful Stallone movie bears little resemblance to Dredd, by all accounts a much more faithful depiction of the original character. It was far from a great movie, and will be far too gory for some people’s tastes, but was a solid little Saturday afternoon good(ish)-guy-vs-very-bad-guy flick.

.:.

Photo by boyce duprey, used under creative commons license

 

Photo by Oefe, user under Creative Commons license

Surprisingly: no beans

In retrospect, February may not have been the best time for a trip to Boston. But of course I didn’t think about that when a Porter seat sale prompted us to visit a new city. Yes, new city: somehow neither of us had ever made it to Boston.

The trip started out well enough: it was snowing when we left Toronto last Friday, but not so much that our flight from the island was delayed. We landed in Boston with no problems, fat fresh snow falling on banks built high in the previous week’s blizzard. My sense of direction is usually pretty good, but I was more than a little disoriented by the time our cab reached our hotel, the XV Beacon. Luckily, in addition to a ton of space and a nice gas fireplace, our room had a great view of Boston Common, so I was centered again. That fireplace, it turns out, would come in handy.

We were already hungry, so we homed in on a nearby place known for both good food and good beer for a late lunch. We took the long way, walking through a bit of the Common where we saw kids ice skating and guided tours of the Freedom Trail starting, before finding ourselves a barstool at Stoddard’s.  Our food was great, and they had some serious American craft brew on tap: I had a Narragansett porter and and a Left Hand milk stout, while Nellie had a Harpoon UFO Belgian white and a Brash “The Bollocks” IPA. We left there pretty fat and happy.

We walked a tiny bit of that off by circling the Common and Public Gardens, getting our bearings, figuring we’d do the heavy-duty touring the next day. We saw a little more of Beacon Hill, and had dinner at Bin 26, a wine bar not far from our hotel. It was okay, but didn’t blow either of us away. Still, any place with that many wines by the glass has to be commended, even if the wine list is like a puzzle. We walked back to our room in the chilly night, past the golden dome of the State House to our hotel, and planned our adventures for the next day while  the downtown lights gave us a little reminder of home.

Plan, schman. Turns out something the Weather Channel called “winter storm Plato” decided to show up and pelt Boston with a wicked (see what I did there?) blast of snow and cold. We set out with every intention of trying to see some of the Freedom Trail, but it was just too cold and windy…we got maybe a few blocks before the ice pellets stinging our eyes drove us inside. We couldn’t bear the thought of retreating to the hotel though, and decided to jump on the subway.

Needless to say, I had The Kingston Trio’s “MTA” playing in my head from the moment we bought that ticket. We decided to go way out to Allston, in the middle of Boston College and Harvard and a bunch of other schools, to try a place called Deep Ellum…the top-rated beer place in Boston. It was a long, brutal walk through the storm from the train stop to the pub; getting through a door never felt so good. It was packed with students scarfing down hangover brunch, but we found two seats at the end of the bar. Despite being twice the age of anyone else in the place we got asked for our ID. Incroyable!

The beer selection was impressive: the draft list alone consisted of a couple dozen American craft brews I’d never even heard of, and we  took full advantage. I had a Jack’s Abby “Smoke and Dagger” smoked lager, a Pretty Things “Saint Botolph’s Town” rustic dark ale, a Rising Tide “Daymark” rye APA, and a Jack’s Abby “Saxonator” dopplebock, while Nellie had a Wormtown “Petite Belma” IPA, a High and Mighty “Beer of the Gods” German ale, a Pretty Things “Baby Tree” quadrupel, and a Green Flash “Palate Wrecker” IPA. Food-wise we had a nice soft pretzel, some sausage & mustard, and poutine (!) with duck gravy. We wrapped up with one more (another Palate Wrecker for Nellie, and a stout on cask that I don’t quite remember) before starting the return trip. It was still brutally cold, but at least the ice pellets had stopped hitting us in the face.

We got back to the hotel and made full use of it for the rest of the afternoon, taking long hot showers, curling up in front of the fireplace, watching travel shows about warm destinations. We weren’t up for another excursion when it came to eating dinner; luckily Mooo (a new steakhouse) is in the hotel’s basement, so we ate there. It was pretty decent: Nellie had lobster bisque and filet mignon, while I had short rib croquettes and prime sirloin, paired with a 2007 Heitz Cabernet Sauvignon. After spending the whole afternoon at Deep Ellum we needed that food in our stomachs too.

We went out the next morning with every intention of doing at least some of the sights on the Freedom Trail, but didn’t get far…it was still fantastically cold. We got as far as the Boston Massacre site and turned back for the hotel. A shower and some packing later and it was time to go. I have to say, the whole process of flying out — from getting to the airport (in the hotel’s Lexus SUV house car) to checking in (no lineups, and friendly, funny TSA agents!) to waiting to board (lunch at a Vino Volo and painless boarding) to the super-smooth flight — was one of the most painless travel experiences we’ve ever had. Always good when a trip wraps up like that.

So, while it wasn’t a bad trip — indeed, we had a lot of fun — it was certainly limited by the weather. Clearly we’ll need to go back, not just to see what the city is like in the warm sun, but also to further explore a feeling we both had almost immediately about Boston…that it feels an awful lot like Halifax. I guess that makes sense — both are old North American cities, not terribly far apart, designed largely by the British around the mid-18th century — but we still both had the strong feeling of familiarity almost immediately upon arriving. The commons in the middle of the city, the public gardens, the waterfront, the wealth of colleges (though Boston’s are certainly more prestigious), the unusually strong ties between the cities with traditions like the annual Commons Christmas tree and the love of Boston sports teams in Nova Scotia…it all made Boston feel familiar to two people who consider Halifax kind of their spiritual home. And just as we’d never assume good weather before travelling to Halifax, but trusting to find its’ charm indoors and out, so we’ll plan a return trip to Boston someday.

.:.

Photo by Oefe, user under Creative Commons license