Category: Family

R.I.P., Richie

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

There was a power outage in my neighbourhood today…except I don’t think the power went off in my building. I was just leaving work at 7 when the power came back on in the large area that had gone dark so I can’t say for sure, but nothing in my condo would appear to have suffered the ill effects of a blackout. Weird.

.:.

Sad news from back home today: my old neighbour Richie Pettigrew died. I’ve known Richie since I was born, as my father probably did. He worked for my grandfather, and his son worked for my dad. My childhood memories are filled with funny stories Richie would tell us, or of being at his (and his wife Margaret’s) house down the road, or of eating freshly-made maple cream off the tiny wooden spoons he’d carved by hand for my dad.

He was like a great-uncle. I’ll miss him.

[tags]toronto blackout, richie pettigrew[/tags]

I'm not having it either

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My brother sent me this article from a Manchester newspaper yesterday and I had to post it. I like to share stories that make me weep for humanity.

A lottery scratchcard has been withdrawn from sale by [national lottery operator] Camelot – because players couldn’t understand it. To qualify for a prize, users had to scratch away a window to reveal a temperature lower than the figure displayed on each card. As the game had a winter theme, the temperature was usually below freezing.

But the concept of comparing negative numbers proved too difficult for some Camelot received dozens of complaints on the first day from players who could not understand how, for example, -5 is higher than -6.

I can see why that could be complicated. Witness the lament from this poor confused soul:

“I phoned Camelot and they fobbed me off with some story that -6 is higher – not lower – than -8 but I’m not having it.”

Onward, vacuous soldier. Rage against that machine.

.:.

Tonight I was reminded of the reason (well…one reason) why I love my wife so much. I got home, expecting her to be there, but she hadn’t yet returned from the grocery store. She came home a few minutes later, crying. On her way home she’d found an injured pigeon on the street. She stopped to take care of it, got it out of harm’s way and into a box, called animal rescue and (along with a stranger) waited with it. She got home, dropped her bags and went out to the balcony to watch for the rescue van to arrive, guiding them to the box on her cell phone.

The pigeon might not make it, but she stopped and cared for it when no one else would. Pretty hard to not love her for that.

[tags]cool cash scratchcard, camelot, why i love my wife[/tags]

Les vacances sont fini

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My parents have flown back to Nova Scotia, so the vacation is now officially over. We’ve set about recovering from the time away and resuming our daily lives. We both have tomorrow off and plan to relax a little, but soon it’ll be time for the office and the gym and groceries and bills and blah blah blah.

We had one last farewell to the festivities last night, having dinner at Fieramosca with my parents and my aunt and uncle from Guelph. Now every member of my immediate family, and Nellie’s, has been there with us at least once. It was, as always, a terrific evening and a good way to cap things off.

Actually, getting my parents to the airport on time was a bit of an adventure. We booked a car from Autoshare to drive them and Nellie went across the street to pick it up. After fifteen minutes she still hadn’t shown up (the car is parked right across the street) so we were all puzzled. Ten minutes after that I was starting to get a little worried, but five minutes later she appeared. See, the downtown core was slammed today: Nuit Blanche has shut down some streets and both the Toronto waterfront marathon and the Run for the Cure were on today. This meant road not only closures, but also that thousands of people who’d just finished running were trying to drive out of the city…and we were already thirty minutes behind our (conservative, admittedly) schedule. Calling a cab would’ve taken too long so we drove anyway; after crawling along Queen Street we thought we were home free on University…until we saw that Word on the Street was blocking the entirety of Queen’s Park. Apparently it’s festival weekend in Toronto. Anyway, after a slight diversion around WotS we booted up Avenue and cruised to the airport, arriving in plenty of time for their flight. We think.

.:.

I saw some really great places on our trip — highlights include the view from Domme, walking around the old centre of Sarlat, the rooms at the Relais Franc Mayne and pretty much all of Paris — but the five days spent at the chateau with so many friends and family, in such a phenomenal location, for such an auspicious occasion, is really what I’ll remember about the trip. It was just one great memory piled on top of the next. As I said before, it was a once-in-a-lifetime happening. I can’t believe it’s only been a week since we left. Already I miss it terribly.

.:.

One more good thing about France:

  • Original weight: 233
  • Weight last week: 227
  • Weight this week: 221.5

Yup…I actually lost weight, despite a steady infusion of pain au chocolate and booze. I may have lost even more than those 5.5 pounds but put a bit back on once I arrived in Toronto.

Clearly I need to spend more time in France.

.:.

Given how many times I’ve watched these two movies, I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before now:

“The (toy) bear that Jack Ryan brings home to his daughter at the end of The Hunt for Red October is the exact same bear that Bruce Willis brings to his son in Die Hard (both films were directed by John McTiernan).”

[via John Sakamoto]

[tags]fieramosca, autoshare, nuit blanche, toronto waterfront marathon, run for the cure, word on the street, relais franc mayne, domme, sarlat, die hard, hunt for red october[/tags]

I shall require chemical assistance

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Still in wind-down mode with my parents. Since we’re all still on French time we were up early; I’ve been awake since 3:30 and the others were up shortly after that. We went to Eggstasy for breakfast and did a little shopping; since then we’ve spent most of our day on the couch. I wish I’d taken a nap; not sure how I’ll make it through dinner tonight, let alone all the stuff I need to do.

I may have to learn to love the espresso.

[tags]jet lag, eggstasy[/tags]

Like the ghost of Jacob Marley, but with a tail

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This morning, as the fog and haze lifted, all the buildings seemed to be breathing strangely.

.:.

Listen, I’m all for supporting our troops, and I have no problem with a stretch of the 401 being renamed to honor them. But really, can we not come up with something a little less cheesy than Highway Of Heroes? That sounds like a fucking Hallmark movie. Please, Ontario government, I’m begging you: give the highway a name that doesn’t sound like a Valerie Bertinelli vehicle.

.:.

My mother just sent me this email. For context: Stryder is my parents dog (a very big rough collie with a snout like an anteater), Tigger is my cat who died five years (who, for some reason, Stryder always idolized) and my mother is deathly afraid of mice and the like.

“I’m still shuddering. Someone had come for maple and we were talking in the yard when I see Stryder coming with something in his mouth. He drops it at my feet and it is a mouse! Still alive! The humans are trying to get away from him and he keeps bringing the mouse closer, trying to pick it up in his mouth. He must have had memories of his teachings from Tigger on how to catch and torture a mouse! I finally got him to drop it and come in the house. It might be playing ‘possum’ but right now it is lying belly-up. Stryder wants back outdoors but I’ll keep him here until it revives or your father comes to remove it.

I can see Tigger’s spirit watching, ‘That’s my boy!'”

I feel bad for the mouse, but I have to say, that made me smile.

[tags]401 highway, highway of heroes, collie[/tags]

Richard Thompson = White Bear

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A few days ago I talked about how certain songs have particular — and often irrational — connections to certain places in my mind.  Another one just came to me as my Zen is on random: “1952 Vincent Black Lightning” by Richard Thompson, for some reason, makes me think of an English pub called The White Bear. My brother, his girlfriend, Nellie and I stopped there as we drove north to Scotland, and they had amazing food, a stunning view, great ambience and charm…none of which have anything to do with Richard Thompson or vintage motorcycles.

I have no idea why my brain makes that connection, but hearing the song just puts me back in that seat, eating a huge feast of duck in black cherry sauce, sipping whisky, ducking low ceiling beams, laughing with my family, surrounded by misty English hills as we started our European adventure two years ago.

I am a puzzle wrapped in a mystery inside a music-and-food-associating enigma.

[tags]richard thompson, vincent black lightning, white bear pub[/tags]

The musical meat grinder, um, grinds on

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In the last few days at work I’ve had a few periods of uninterrupted work at my desk (!), allowing me to screen some music that’s been sitting in my “inbox” for months, including:

  • apostle of hustle . national anthem of nowhere
  • dalek . abandoned language
  • low . drums and guns
  • ted leo . living with the living

None of them exactly set my world on fire, though each has a few good songs.

Listening to Ted Leo always makes me think of Ottawa, and for an odd reason: I always think of his song/album “Hearts of Oak”, which always makes me think of the Royal Oak (caution: site has loud & cheesy embedded music), an Ottawa pub my brother and I frequented when I lived there for a summer. In fact, we went there on the day that Keith’s was first introduced to Ontario. Anyway, yeah, that’s Ted Leo for me. My brain strolls in weird directions like that.

.:.

Last night was the second episode of the latest season of The Shield (aired here in Canada anyway; the season’s already done), which I’ve always said is one of the best shows on TV. It made me appreciate The Sopranos even more; without the success of The Sopranos, shows like The Shield (and characters like Vic Mackey) wouldn’t exist, let alone entire networks like F/X.

[tags]apostle of hustle, dalek, low, ted leo, royal oak, the shield, the sopranos, f/x[/tags]

The night shift lullaby

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I just made my dad a CD, which I shall stick in the mail tomorrow. He likes getting them every now and then, and I like making them; it’s inspiring and reassuring to know that my 64-year-old father likes good music. Here’s the tracklist:

  1. cat power . “kingsport town”
  2. r.l. burnside . “old black mattie”
  3. amy millan . “blue in yr eye”
  4. magnolia electric company . “the night shift lullaby”
  5. black keys . “you’re the one”
  6. yo la tengo . “my little corner of the world”
  7. jessie mae hemphill . “standing in my doorway crying”
  8. old crow medicine show . “minglewood blues”
  9. ox . “1913”
  10. broken west . “down in the valley tonight”
  11. great lake swimmers . “i could be nothing”
  12. pablo . “wall street”
  13. william elliot whitmore . “does me no good”
  14. avett brothers . “shame”
  15. kings of leon . “the runner”
  16. sufjan stevens . “amazing grace”

I suspect he’ll especially like the songs by R.L. Burnside, Jessie Mae Hemphill, Ox (since it’s a Woody Guthrie cover), William Elliot Whitmore and The Avett Brothers. The Yo La Tengo, Pablo and Kings of Leon are stretches, but you have to keep the old man on his toes.

[tags]mixed cd[/tags]

The conscientious objector

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Attention, everybody who keeps sending me Facebook invitations: I will not do it. I don’t want to join the club. I didn’t like the club when it was called Myspace or even Friendster, and I don’t like it any better now just because they’ve fixed the style sheet. I sure as shit don’t want to “catch up” with 99% of the people I went to high school with, and I don’t want to take part in the online clique-building. If you want to keep a blog or post your pictures, please use a site that doesn’t require membership in a cult just to view it. I decline. I forestall. I abstain.

Thank you.

.:.

This blog post by Matt Brown sounds almost exactly what was going through my mind the first time I visited Vancouver. I left miserable weather (and a fairly unhappy life) in Toronto to visit Vancouver on business. As I flew there I read The Water In Between by Kevin Patterson, a book about a guy who leaves his shitty life behind, moves to BC, buys a boat and just starts sailing. When I got to Vancouver it was sunny and warm, and I sat in my hotel room overlooking English Bay, wishing I had Kevin Patterson’s guts. I had my phone in my hand, ready to make my resignation phone call.

Of course, I didn’t. I returned to Toronto a few days later, and stuck it out there, even though I pretty much had a job offer in Vancouver. In the end, of course, my life turned out pretty well indeed. I don’t for a second regret staying here in Toronto, but I can absolutely understand what Matt’s feeling.

I guess I’ll just keep living Vancariously through Stanzi.

.:.

It’s my mom’s birthday. I’d point you to her blog to leave a congratulatory comment, but she doesn’t roll like that. Given the current trend she’ll no doubt be on Facebook soon though, so maybe y’all can say bonne fete next year.

[tags]facebook yawn, vancouver, english bay[/tags]