Year: 2006

Kwyjibo

This is probably 800% funnier to me than it is to anyone reading this. Welcome to my world.

Repharm

I recently received email at work from Repharm, offering me a variety of contact lists, with on average 10 executive contacts per organization, thinking that I might be interested in acquiring your competitors’ customer lists. Since Marg Moore was so kind as to introduce the company to me on behalf of Michael Gordon (and don’t forget Dianne Edwards), I thought I’d do them a favour and pass on the company’s info to all of you so you can take advantage of their services.

$ whois repharm.net
[...]
    gordon, michael  repharm@sympatico.ca
[...]
    905-728-6708    Fax: 905-436-6495

In case you can’t get email to that address for some reason, try rti@look.ca or Repharm1@aol.com or repharmtechinc@yahoo.com or repharm419@sympatico.ca or lrepharm@sympatico.ca or repharmtechnologies2@yahoo.com or repharmtechnologies20@yahoo.com too, or call 905-721-8456 or send a fax to 905-721-1471. And be sure to visit their websites at repharm.net and repharm.com too. I know they’re waiting to take your call.

Thank you in advance for your consideration, and we look forward to hearing from you.

Me too

I chose not to vote strategically, I chose not to vote for a party, I chose not to vote AGAINST anyone.

I looked up the platforms and the records of the candidates IN MY RIDING.

I based my vote on who I thought would be the best person IN MY RIDING to send to parliament.

That is, after all, the way we are supposed to vote.

Best of

Lenni Jabour and The Third Floor, Les Dangereuses
You all knew this was coming, so there’s no sense keeping it for the end of the list. Lenni et al’s new CD departs a bit from the sound of their more recent independent releases and live performances, evolving the music into something I can only describe as filmic. They’ve included more instrumental pieces than they’d play in concert—Rosa Dances In Her Kitchen in particular is wonderfully evocative—and added a range of new ideas, including vocal effects, that make Les Dangereuses a Third Floor experience unlike anything I’ve heard from them before. It’s exactly, but also not at all, what I expected. (Full disclosure: Lenni’s a dear friend, and I helped sponsor the CD.)
Angie Nussey, Paint and Turpentine
Angie’s got a unique vocal style that perfectly matches her personal lyrics: both are quirky yet often powerful. Paint is a great complement to her previous release, Circumstantial Overload. There’s a lot of great music on the disc, and I think Take Me Home distills it all better than I could hope to describe.
Kristin Sweetland, Root, Heart and Crown
OK, Kristin’s CD was actually released a couple of years ago, at which point I wrote (but then took back) some not-entirely-complimentary things about it. I’ve gained a new appreciation for the disc—and for Ms Sweetland in general—since then, and she’s been a highlight of my listening and concertgoing in the past year.
The London Fringe Theatre Festival
‘Nuff said.
Stratford Festival, The Tempest
I had the honour of seeing William Hutt on the last night of his final stage performance, playing Prospero in The Tempest. Are there any more fitting lines to close fifty years at the festival than these:
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please….
As you from crimes would pardoned be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
Harmony Trowbridge, Amoraphobe
An EP release in advance of her first full-length CD, Amoraphobe is a nice introduction to Harmony’s distinctive phrasing and phrases. I’m a sucker for clever imagery, and I find her lyrics—like woop! go the v-birds, from Nothing Runs Like a Deer—stick in my head for hours.

Reach for the Top

I started writing this post on September 12, 2002, with the intention of completing it shortly thereafter. Three-plus years later I still haven’t, but I might as well get this part of the story out there… and who knows, maybe I’ll rediscover the story in another three years and finish telling it.

For the last few months I’ve been using a quote from Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes comic strip as my e-mail signature:

I’m not dumb. I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.

I use the quote because it’s accurate: among other things, I’m a serious trivia geek.

I’m a serious competitive trivia geek. As long as I can remember I’ve been interested in facts—I think a lot of it comes from having two teachers as parents, because both of my siblings have a similar bent—and for six years, from Grade 8 through to Grade 13, I was in my element as a member of my schools’ quiz teams.

It helps that I had some early success. I was on the first Super Quiz/All Star Quiz team from Warwick Central Public School with my teammates and friends Jon Craig, Susan Hoeksema, Scott Burchill, Bob Bork, Jeff Frayne, and Peter Agocs, all coached by Frances O’Neil… and we kicked ass, winning the county championship in our first time out. I don’t have tape of any of the televised games, but I do have a photo on the set of our team playing against a group of people I’d eventually be teammates with in high school.

(It’s also that group, plus Shelly Demers, Jodi Cable, and Pam Wilcocks, that built a computerized buzzer system for the school and won the computer science prize at the county science fair… despite discovering halfway through that the person we had doing wiring was colourblind!)

I was hooked.

I’d heard from my father that there was a team at North Lambton Secondary School that had some pretty good players, and soon discovered he was right. Murray Watson, Jason Dodge, Ian Coulthard, Gary Peters and Bev Rider were forces to be reckoned with; Murray and Jason had been recruited years before by Roger Harrington, who’d just given up the coaching position to Ann Walker. Also joining the team that year were Maryann Moons and Dave Mallick, who I’d played against in elementary school. The intermediate team (grade 9 and 10 students) did reasonably well in county competition, as did the seniors, but Sarnia’s St. Clair Secondary—henceforth known as the enemy—won the county.

In Grade 10 I was introduced to Mark Lade—current voice of the TD/Canada Trust automated banking system—who hosted CFPL-TV’s regional Reach for the Top competition. To this day I can recall his distinctive voice at will, and not simply because of what I’ll write about later. CFPL, a former CBC affiliate, had kept Reach running after the main corporation cancelled it nationally. North Lambton hadn’t been in regional televised competition for several years for a variety of reasons, but we managed to back-door our way onto the show.

I graduated to the television team, with Murray, Jason, and Ian, for our wondrous return in a first-round game against London Central—henceforth known as the enemy—in November 1986. That we lost. By 70 points, given up during the snapper round at the end of the show. We were finished.

Well, not quite. The less-glamorous (i.e. non-televised) county School Reach competition remained for the senior and intermediate teams. (School Reach and Reach for the Top are run by the same organization.) By April the seniors (with Gary) had won the county, allowing them (with alternates Maryann and yours truly) to compete in the Southern Ontario School Reach competition in Windsor. That we won. By 5 points. On the final question. Which meant two things: we were going to provincials… and we were going to be on CFPL again.

A couple of things have changed since I wrote that part: Warwick Central has closed, and CFPL was bought by CHUM and renamed to The New PL, and then again to A Channel. Neither is particularly relevant to the story, except as trivia… which was kinda the point.

Declaration of Principles

The universe speaks in many languages, but only one voice.
The language is not Narn, or Human, or Centauri, or Gaim or Minbari.
It speaks in the language of hope.
It speaks in the language of trust.
It speaks in the language of strength and the language of compassion;
In the language of the heart and the language of the soul.

But always it is the same voice.

It is the voice of our ancestors, speaking through us,
And the voice of our inheritors, waiting to be born.
It is the small, still voice that says
We are one.
No matter the blood, no matter the skin
No matter the world, no matter the star:
We are one.
No matter the pain, no matter the darkness
No matter the loss, no matter the fear:
We are one.

Here, gathered together in common cause,
we agree to recognize this singular truth:
That we are one
and this singular rule:
That we must be kind to one another
Because each voice enriches us and ennobles us
and each voice lost diminishes us.

We are the voice of the Universe,
the soul of creation,
the fire that will light the way to a better future.
We are one.

We are one.