I’ve recently begun jonesing for another suit; my old black Boss has just lost its shape, and doesn’t look right anymore. My guy from Harry Rosen called to see if needed anything, and I’m considering picking another one up. I’ve also thought about going to Trend Custom, purportedly the only bespoke tailors in Canada (or Toronto, at least).

But God help me, I really want a suit from Thomas at English Cut, especially now that he’s considering ready-to-wear and it’s less than what I usually pay.

Just a few days after watching a documentary about the life of Jack Johnson, and expressing my disbelief at just how racist our society was a hundred years ago, I get a reminder that we’re still hardly beyond it.

I got my hair cut today, at the same little barbershop I always go to. Today there was a different guy there; the two who usually cut my hair — Nick and Ralph — are great guys: polite, friendly and funny. This new guy was a little old Greek man, probably about 70. He chattered on incessantly the whole time, as barbers do. He talked about coming to this country, about how The Beatles inspired shaggy haircuts and drove him out of the business, about how warm it’s been this week, and about his kids. And it was while discussing his daughter — a teacher at a high school in Scarborough — he mentioned “how many problems they have with…” — at this point, he glances around the room and drops his voice — “…the black people”.

It weirded me out. Made me feel guilty for being the one he was talking to. I suppose I should have said something, but I always tend toward just letting shit slide. Easy for me, I suppose; I’ve never felt particularly discriminated against. Anyway, he’s an old man; would it have changed his mind?

I couldn’t wait to get away from him. I gave him my money, said goodbye to Nick and left.

I’ve been using the Firefox 1.1 alpha this afternoon. It’s rippin’ fast!

My brother pointed out that I haven’t really commented on With Teeth yet. Whoops; I’ve been so busy lately that my posts have gotten more and more terse, and I thought I’d talked about it already.

I guess part of the reason I haven’t commented is because it hasn’t moved me that much one way or the other. It’s good, but not so shockingly good that I had to rave about it. It’s not bad enough that I’d want to bitch about it either. It was also overshadowed by the (excellent) Spoon disc which arrived the same day.

So all in all it’s near the bottom of the discography, but a mediocre NIN album is still better than most.

Fascinating.

from Salon: Woodward and Bernstein: Felt was Deep Throat

My little buddy T-Bone is in the office today during a break in her other daily occupation (as it were). I see her too rarely now. Tomorrow she’ll be gone again, so tonight…we drink!

It’s funny how every phone call she’s gotten today — and there have been many — has started with, “Hello? Hey!………Nope, just for today.”

…i’ve chosen the Be Good Tanyas. It’s a good way to keep from going koo koo bananas at the end of a long day.

from the London Free Press: Ontario bill ends censoring of films

there are songs that just perfectly fit the morning you’re having? or trying to have? well, this morning it was “Teddy Roosevelt’s Guns” by A Silver Mt. Zion.