Month: December 2012

Five stars for the documentary… a beautiful story, beautifully told. Five hearts for Rodriguez, the subject of the story. See it or buy it and you’ll understand why. The audio CD is available, too.
Thanks to a tip from Brian Hickey, Danica and I headed over to the Bloor Cinema and caught the matinée today. My photo (above) shows you what a nice cinema it is. We arrived early and got perfect seats in the balcony front row. Only one other person was ahead of us… a real fan… she sat smack-dab in the centre seat.

Learn how the tragic legacy of the residential school catastrophe has been passed on from directly affected individuals to their children.
I know many intelligent, good spirited non-aboriginal adults who are unable to comprehend the depth and breadth of the residential school aftermath. Perhaps Chief Spence’s account will shed some light.

That’s me over Jack McClelland’s shoulder, intent upon getting as many free books as possible. First, I got a paperback copy of Margaret Atwood’s Edible Woman. Then I took off my coat to change the appearance of my outstretched arm and went in for a forbidden second freebie. I didn’t fool Mr McClelland. He looked me in the eye and said, “You’ve already gotten one”. He gave me the second one anyway… I forget its title.
Danica found the old newspaper clipping. I wasn’t going to post it because she says I looked like Charles Manson but I showed it to John Robert Colombo and he upgraded me to a glum Marxist revolutionary.

Maybe 15 centimetres. Not much, but enough to use the snowblower for the first time in 2 years. Up until now, we’ve only had dustings that didn’t stick. I’m happy to see the white stuff… as long as we don’t get too much of it, and as long as it stops by May. (It did snow on May 6th one year, the day after Danica and I got married. Our West Coast guests mocked our climate merrily, I recall.)

It’s a weather report from soggy England as well as a perfectly timed bit of stop motion photography. Chrissy Magill caught her daughter Kaitlyn in the act of testing her new rainsuit… a Christmas present from her grannie and our friend Kathleen, who is over visiting in Tonbridge right now.

Apparently the series has been around awhile, but I hadn’t heard of this U.K. phenomenon. There will probably be a North American knock off one day. If we bounce Rob Ford as mayor, he’d be a good choice to play our “Karl Pilkington”. Here’s a Karl quote, for example:

“I find that if you just talk,
your mouth comes up with stuff.”

In the following 3 minute clip, Karl explores Chinese cuisine…

A Tibetan monk burns himself to death in public protest. An Arab street merchant sets himself alight and touches off a series of despot-toppling revolutions.
In Canada, a native kid hangs himself. Another taunts commuters, drunk out of his mind. Many languish in prisons for stupid, sometimes vicious crimes. A chief starves herself in public protest.
I see comparisons. Self destructive behaviours motivated by social injustices. I don’t see fixes, and I don’t know that fixes could work, anyway. Attempts at assimilation only led to broken families, lost cultures, abused children and despairing adults. “Handouts” have delivered chronic poverty, marginalized workers, ignorance, bad health and corruption.

Here’s what Danica’s toonie [almost only a loonie… see funny video below] got her during our recent visit to the Monkey’s Paw antiquarian bookstore.

It’s a 1976 hard cover with dust jacket featuring such great Canadian authors as Morley Callaghan, Marshall McLuhan, Eric Nichol, Al Purdy, Robertson Davies and yes, our dear friend John Robert Colombo (Casa Loma: A Collage). In fact, editor William Killborn gives special acknowledgment to John for his help in putting the book together.
What a score! And even more… the inside covers were lined with an old map of Toronto that shows our part of East Toronto before most of the streets existed. Using a Google map overlay, I located our house (red circle, photo above) in what was then a large concession of land owned by one C.C. Small.
Coincidentally, the unique Biblio-Mat machine was designed and built by a Mr Craig Small. Here’s Danica, using it…

Of course she reported her bargain to the owner and turned in the uncollected loonie that was still owing. I found her dismay at being undercharged both charming and amusing, but completely in character.

Hint: Nobody knows what it’s for, but this strange, bony object is uniquely Torontonian and a source of constant embarrassment.

It’s probably a good time to bake these goodies because they are supposed to be gifts for neighbours. If my flu bug wasn’t robbing me of interest, some of these would not have made it out the door.
For the record, aside from tantalizing me with treats I can’t have, Danica has been the perfect spouse during my (hopefully brief) setback. I plan to be fully recovered in time for Christmas turkey.
Also for the record, the little snowman is filled with homemade caramel corn from my sister-in-law Kathy. I hope there will be some left when I start eating again. Danica is pretty good about sharing and self-restraint, but Kathy’s confections are a powerful force.