Thursday, October 27, 2005
the week that was, what?
It's been one of those weeks that seemed to loop back around on itself like a pretzel until you weren't sure if it actually had begun somewhere nor that it had a definite end.
But here we are: TGIT (thank god it's thursday).
Last week I worked my standard Monday to Thursday... but also put in a Friday at the store... not my usual schedule. It was so I could take Saturday off to enjoy the Acadian Lines bus tour to Campbellton. It was to attend a birthday dinner for my mom put on by her three siblings... the kind of surprise party which is a surprise to no one but still had to be referred to and played out as though someone was surprised... which they weren't.
But it was a nice enough affair... got to catch up a little with folks, find out who's achieving, who's on drugs, who's having babies, etc.
A couple of days later (Monday) and it was back on the bus. Schedules being aligned as they were I took advantage of the bus getting back into Fredericton just around 5 pm to then jump in a taxi and come straight up to work at the lab. Made for a groggy night.
The week went on, still, onwards. Rain made it seem all the more like one long day.
But here we are: TGIT!! No work tomorrow.
So tonight we rejoice with:
But here we are: TGIT (thank god it's thursday).
Last week I worked my standard Monday to Thursday... but also put in a Friday at the store... not my usual schedule. It was so I could take Saturday off to enjoy the Acadian Lines bus tour to Campbellton. It was to attend a birthday dinner for my mom put on by her three siblings... the kind of surprise party which is a surprise to no one but still had to be referred to and played out as though someone was surprised... which they weren't.
But it was a nice enough affair... got to catch up a little with folks, find out who's achieving, who's on drugs, who's having babies, etc.
A couple of days later (Monday) and it was back on the bus. Schedules being aligned as they were I took advantage of the bus getting back into Fredericton just around 5 pm to then jump in a taxi and come straight up to work at the lab. Made for a groggy night.
The week went on, still, onwards. Rain made it seem all the more like one long day.
But here we are: TGIT!! No work tomorrow.
So tonight we rejoice with:
Thursday, October 20, 2005
the human unconditioning
It's been a little while since my last diatribe about daily interaction with "the public," so I will present to you a double shot from both of my service-oriented jobs:
1. The Record Store
phone rings
Me: Backstreet.
Woman: Hi. I don't know if you can help me out... I have a strange request [they all do]. I'm looking for a Shania Twain track...
Me: [trying to interrupt] We don't sell...
Woman: [going on uninterrupted] ...called "I'm Holding onto Love" [or something approx.], but with the words taken out.
Me: You mean a karaoke CD.
Woman: Absolutely Not! I need the music to sing along to at my wedding, but the words, the singing has to be taken out.
Me: What you want is a karaoke CD.
Woman: Well, I guess if there's no way to get what I'm looking for I'll have to use a karaoke CD.
Me: No. What I'm saying is what you're asking for IS a karaoke CD. A karaoke CD has the music only, no lyrics, you sing along. That's karaoke.
Woman: Oh. Well do you have the Shania Twain karaoke disc?
Me: No we don't sell karaoke discs.
-------------
2. The Computer Lab
Late-40s woman comes barrelling in with a textbook and a wild, needy look about her.
Woman: [pointing at printers in room behind me] Do your photocopiers work on cash or copy card?
Me: [indicating the actual copier to her left] That's our copier, and it only works with copy cards.
Woman: I'm just up in Fredericton for this one class, I've got to go back..., but I've got to have this, or else... god! Do STU [St. Thomas University] copy cards work in these copiers? {She pulls out a card from the Ward Chipman Library from UNB Saint John]
Me: That doesn't look like it'll work.
Woman: They should all be the same. I hate.... Well, can I buy a card from you?
Me: We don't sell them, only Imaging Services, but their office hours end at 4:30 or 5:00 pm.
Woman: Where can I buy one now?
Me: The Harriet Irving Library. But if you want to copy for cash you can go to the Paper Trail in the Student Union Building.
Woman: I don't have time. This is my professor's book. We're just on a break. What if I give you cash?
Me: What would I do with the cash? The copier doesn't take cash.
Woman: I have three children. [I have no clue what that's supposed to mean] I'll give you $20.
Me: Again, what for?
Woman: To copy these pages for me! [pointing at printers in the back again] On your photocopiers!! Those are photocopiers!!!
Me: No. Those are printers. That's the photocopier. It only takes copy cards.
Woman: But how do you copy things. Don't you have a card!?!
Me: I don't have to copy things. I don't have a card.
Woman: ...Or a soul apparently!!! [storms out]
The morale of the stories:
#1 Some people aren't smart enough for karaoke.
#2 Maybe we aren't paying teachers too little after all.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
oy my aching musk ox!!
Cooking with Pressure.
or
Advanced Classes in Bad Alchemy.
This past weekend saw the pre-figured arrival of Marc Bragdon, or Marc of the North as I like to call him. As is our tribe's way of doing things... you know, together... we huddled around tables in what we refer to as "Night Spots," though not the early teenage kind you might be picturing... and shame on you for that. What amazes is how folks like us, mildly advanced in matters of culture, technology, inter-personal politics, music and the ways of animal migration, can be reduced to slobbering shouting teenagers by tiny vials of amber liquid.
Our bar-hopping was two-footed if not sure-footed, and in retrospect quite a drain on the ol' right front pocket. But misinterpreted geography and early exhuberance followed by several shots to the mouth from the hand through the bending of the elbow fogged over my participatory powers early on. Most of the post-Taproom evening was viewed through what felt like slightly steamed diving goggles.
During a foray into the Creek they call "Bugaboo," we watched as a band who's name we did not know failed to entertain us. I am told that my hoots and ironic "devil horn" throwing was under appreciated by some at nearby tables, probably attached to the band in some way. Forgive me. I hoot when I'm happy. I hoot when I'm sad. I hoot when I'm confused and can't decide. Much later (well just tonight) I've come to find that the band was Colonial Quarrels who are an "offshoot," or at least share two members with Moncton's Peter Parkers, a band I quite like. While I'm generally easier to impress when "tipsy," I'll have to reserve final judgement until I can hear them with both ears and a full (or less full) head.
We seemed to walk for several blocks each time we left a bar... so I'm not entirely sure if we went to one or two bars next... so... but... eventually we decided on The Capital as a key place to wrap up the evening. However, as we re-navigated our way there we passed in front of the Creek once more... and from inside I heard the sounds of violin, cello and three part harmony. Indeed it was A Northern Chorus
who I knew were slated to play. The sound drew me inside while the others continued on. So I parked myself on the floor below the merch table and drifted along for the rest of their set.
I failed to find the rest of my expedition crew post-show, so I did what any explorer would do: Head for the Poutine truck. The rest was just about the wandering home.
Postscript. If I left a message on more than the one answering machine I've already been told about... please disregard what I might have said. It was probably true, but still. Sorry again. I hoot you know.
or
Advanced Classes in Bad Alchemy.
This past weekend saw the pre-figured arrival of Marc Bragdon, or Marc of the North as I like to call him. As is our tribe's way of doing things... you know, together... we huddled around tables in what we refer to as "Night Spots," though not the early teenage kind you might be picturing... and shame on you for that. What amazes is how folks like us, mildly advanced in matters of culture, technology, inter-personal politics, music and the ways of animal migration, can be reduced to slobbering shouting teenagers by tiny vials of amber liquid.
Our bar-hopping was two-footed if not sure-footed, and in retrospect quite a drain on the ol' right front pocket. But misinterpreted geography and early exhuberance followed by several shots to the mouth from the hand through the bending of the elbow fogged over my participatory powers early on. Most of the post-Taproom evening was viewed through what felt like slightly steamed diving goggles.
During a foray into the Creek they call "Bugaboo," we watched as a band who's name we did not know failed to entertain us. I am told that my hoots and ironic "devil horn" throwing was under appreciated by some at nearby tables, probably attached to the band in some way. Forgive me. I hoot when I'm happy. I hoot when I'm sad. I hoot when I'm confused and can't decide. Much later (well just tonight) I've come to find that the band was Colonial Quarrels who are an "offshoot," or at least share two members with Moncton's Peter Parkers, a band I quite like. While I'm generally easier to impress when "tipsy," I'll have to reserve final judgement until I can hear them with both ears and a full (or less full) head.
We seemed to walk for several blocks each time we left a bar... so I'm not entirely sure if we went to one or two bars next... so... but... eventually we decided on The Capital as a key place to wrap up the evening. However, as we re-navigated our way there we passed in front of the Creek once more... and from inside I heard the sounds of violin, cello and three part harmony. Indeed it was A Northern Chorus
who I knew were slated to play. The sound drew me inside while the others continued on. So I parked myself on the floor below the merch table and drifted along for the rest of their set.
I failed to find the rest of my expedition crew post-show, so I did what any explorer would do: Head for the Poutine truck. The rest was just about the wandering home.
Postscript. If I left a message on more than the one answering machine I've already been told about... please disregard what I might have said. It was probably true, but still. Sorry again. I hoot you know.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
...but the end is nowhere nigh!
It's been an hectic couple of weeks.
Late September/early October is the busy season for Indie rock. Schools back in... bands are touring... there are festivals everywhere... and everyone puts out a new "must have" album around this time. So each week brings a new necessary preparedness for this next big release... Last week it was Metric and Franz Ferdinand. This week it's Broken Social Scene and Controller Controller. Next week it's Animal Collective and Boards of Canada. Luckily it slows down near the beginning of November.
But November brings the next phase in head-scratching and teeth-gnashing: The Year End List!
Writing for the Destination Out and Pop Rock sections of Exclaim! means I have to come up with 2 different lists. The good side (and there is no real bad side) is that you have to go back and relisten to a years' worth of music. After the "shock of the new" all October it is more of a Zen thing. I'd tell you what I'm leaning towards, but then I'd start feeling like I can't change my mind... so....
Went to see
on Tuesday at the Taproom. They were playing as a five piece with acoustic guitar, keyboards, bass, drums and vibes. I haven't gotten the new album yet, but what I've heard of it sounded great... and live was super too... mournful country with the lounge bells a-ringin'.
They were accompanied by Special Noise from Halifax as well as fellow Haligonian, recently reunited North of America. The loud band, quieter band, loudest band scenario wasn't perfect flow-wise, but it made for an entertaining night.
Now we'll have to see if A Nothern Chorus can survive a Friday night (this Friday night) at Bugaboo Creek. Perhaps also hosting the semi-triumphant return of Marc Bragdon!!! Be where?
Late September/early October is the busy season for Indie rock. Schools back in... bands are touring... there are festivals everywhere... and everyone puts out a new "must have" album around this time. So each week brings a new necessary preparedness for this next big release... Last week it was Metric and Franz Ferdinand. This week it's Broken Social Scene and Controller Controller. Next week it's Animal Collective and Boards of Canada. Luckily it slows down near the beginning of November.
But November brings the next phase in head-scratching and teeth-gnashing: The Year End List!
Writing for the Destination Out and Pop Rock sections of Exclaim! means I have to come up with 2 different lists. The good side (and there is no real bad side) is that you have to go back and relisten to a years' worth of music. After the "shock of the new" all October it is more of a Zen thing. I'd tell you what I'm leaning towards, but then I'd start feeling like I can't change my mind... so....
Went to see
The Fembots
on Tuesday at the Taproom. They were playing as a five piece with acoustic guitar, keyboards, bass, drums and vibes. I haven't gotten the new album yet, but what I've heard of it sounded great... and live was super too... mournful country with the lounge bells a-ringin'.
They were accompanied by Special Noise from Halifax as well as fellow Haligonian, recently reunited North of America. The loud band, quieter band, loudest band scenario wasn't perfect flow-wise, but it made for an entertaining night.
Now we'll have to see if A Nothern Chorus can survive a Friday night (this Friday night) at Bugaboo Creek. Perhaps also hosting the semi-triumphant return of Marc Bragdon!!! Be where?
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
out of my chair
I lost a couple of weeks there.
Or rather I did more stuff instead of just writing about the stuff I wasn't doing. For instance:
I went to two shows in the last little while.
The first was the Most Serene Republic at the Capital on Thursday September 22nd.
They put on a great show... members spilling halfway up the stairs off the narrow shallow Capital stage. A lot of energy, a lot of variety, much in the way of unexpected twists and turns.... One thing, a little thing, which made a lot of difference: the keyboard player had little themes which he played in between songs, effectively covering up the dead spots while people drank water or retuned or whatever. It really is the little things that please me I guess.
The next show was The Inflation Kills at Bugaboo Creek on Tuesday September 27th.
It was Tuesday. It was Bugaboo Creek. It was Fredericton.
On Vinyl and Crosstown Rivals were slated to open, but Rock and Roll flu symptoms knocked OV off the bill. A "crowd" of about 15-20 people stuck it out through to the end of the evening. A good show of solidarity. The Inflation Kills are a band made up from remnants of Kitchens and Bathrooms (the band, not the actual rooms). They have a post-punk, Drive Like Jehu-ish feel to them... and great stream of consciousness lyrics.
Other than the rock it's mostly been work and scratching my head over the things to do/accomplish:
1) Need new shoes... I'm picky (not about brand... but sorta about style and definitely about cash)
2) Gotta (always) keep sorting through the new music to keep the reviews current on Surgery blog and in Exclaim!
3) Tons of stuff I want to read... keep falling asleep
4) Learn more HTML
5) Eat. Better.
I watch a little bit of a call in show on French CBC-TV in the mornings... it's essentially a moderator, two debaters and whoever happens not to have anything better to do. Sorta like the "Cross-Country Checkup" on the radio.
One of the recent topics had to do with Public vs. Private health care. A gentleman caller (heh heh) wanted to make a point that he was for private health care... and it was because he went to a clinic near his home and they had wonderful x-ray equipment and it took no time to get his results back, etc. The moderator asked him how much it cost him and the gentleman said it was free. Ergo, the moderator said, it was a public health clinic, not a private one. The gentleman protested saying it was a clinic that had built itself up on its own... funded by the Government.
People are funny.
Or rather I did more stuff instead of just writing about the stuff I wasn't doing. For instance:
I went to two shows in the last little while.
The first was the Most Serene Republic at the Capital on Thursday September 22nd.
They put on a great show... members spilling halfway up the stairs off the narrow shallow Capital stage. A lot of energy, a lot of variety, much in the way of unexpected twists and turns.... One thing, a little thing, which made a lot of difference: the keyboard player had little themes which he played in between songs, effectively covering up the dead spots while people drank water or retuned or whatever. It really is the little things that please me I guess.
The next show was The Inflation Kills at Bugaboo Creek on Tuesday September 27th.
It was Tuesday. It was Bugaboo Creek. It was Fredericton.
On Vinyl and Crosstown Rivals were slated to open, but Rock and Roll flu symptoms knocked OV off the bill. A "crowd" of about 15-20 people stuck it out through to the end of the evening. A good show of solidarity. The Inflation Kills are a band made up from remnants of Kitchens and Bathrooms (the band, not the actual rooms). They have a post-punk, Drive Like Jehu-ish feel to them... and great stream of consciousness lyrics.
Other than the rock it's mostly been work and scratching my head over the things to do/accomplish:
1) Need new shoes... I'm picky (not about brand... but sorta about style and definitely about cash)
2) Gotta (always) keep sorting through the new music to keep the reviews current on Surgery blog and in Exclaim!
3) Tons of stuff I want to read... keep falling asleep
4) Learn more HTML
5) Eat. Better.
I watch a little bit of a call in show on French CBC-TV in the mornings... it's essentially a moderator, two debaters and whoever happens not to have anything better to do. Sorta like the "Cross-Country Checkup" on the radio.
One of the recent topics had to do with Public vs. Private health care. A gentleman caller (heh heh) wanted to make a point that he was for private health care... and it was because he went to a clinic near his home and they had wonderful x-ray equipment and it took no time to get his results back, etc. The moderator asked him how much it cost him and the gentleman said it was free. Ergo, the moderator said, it was a public health clinic, not a private one. The gentleman protested saying it was a clinic that had built itself up on its own... funded by the Government.
People are funny.
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