gimme gimme gimme. gimme some more.

ok 2 things to start this off:

-I measured myself on a wall last night against the heights of my sisters roomies and found out that I'm a full 2 inches shorter than I thought I was. I'm holding out for a second opinion.

-the new Hot Chip is fucking sick. get it before you catch SARS and die.

When I left you last I was sitting in Cafe Republique. Surprise surprise, I'm back. hey, free internet! I had a superfun night last night - after a wicked nap I had deelish curry that my sis and cousin made, drank down with many many bottles of wine. We went out for Shisha, which I've rediscovered as something I totally love...something about the flavor and the whole ritual, the sparkling of the coals and the thickness of the smoke coming out of your nose - its all so tingly and warm. mmmmm.

We went out and discovered this AMAZING FESTIVAL called "Nuit Blanches" - basically an all-night, full-city, mostly-free PARTY stretching over dozens of galleries, performance spaces, auditoriums, theatres, venues, etc...and literally everything from minimal techo to modern dance to these massive dryers that you could go INTO and warm up (and come out smelling dryer-fresh!)...we opted to take on Le Place des Artes, which had about a 1/2 dozen free events, including this fucking TIGHT afrobeat band that was playing in the lobby of the concert hall where we had gone to see the symphony.

what was amazing to me was the MASSIVE support the festival got! we didn't leave the hall until after 3AM, and the streets were seriously PACKED of people, some just getting started - many events didn't even begin until after 5AM...

it's moments like that that make me consider the state of the arts in Canada - I'm not going to go on a rant about how poor the funding is, etc...but in travelling in Europe, and in eastern canada, I've come to several realizations:

-people's 'quality of life' is built upon a standard which is both manufactured and falsified. I came to this realization when in Terrebonne at the mansion, when I began to assume that these people NEVER leave their house, because they've attained a level of 'happiness' based on STUFF and THINGS and OWNING things which have implied value.

-in the west, we seem to 'settle' for things that aren't HARD to get, but generally satisfy our needs as humans - fun, colorful, exciting things, but are few and far between, so we medicate ourselves with BIG MALLS and REALITY TV and SHOPPING AT SOUTH EDMONTON COMMON. it's so...backwards.

I get this little superiority complex when I travel that I try not to take too seriously...don't get me wrong, I love Edmonton, the community, the people, everything - but I think we don't take what we DO have seriously enough as a VALUE to the greater culture of a city. we think it's quirky, odd of us, that we're unique in a way that's both unique to the CITY and the world as a whole...but that's not the case. we should be seeing our contribution as having a higher value to the culture of our community as a whole. It's in the effort of a city to put money towards public art, towarda FREE festivals, like the one last night. Every stripe of person was there - young, old, punks, ravers, whatever...it made me SO happy to see a city which could support something as complex and well-organized as Nuit Blanche, in such a big way, while Edmonton has to bend over backwards to make things happen, and then just to get people to leave their house.

The bottom line is this: VALUE YOUR LOCAL CULTURE & WORK TO ENHANCE IT.

Those that already do, great. Those that don't, or don't care - wake up. Life is for LIVING, not sitting on your ass and debating who the greatest American Idol is.

So go to a gallery. or a show. or a dance performance. support your local artist, and they will improve your life, I guarantee.

I miss you, friends. I'm seeing Belle & Sebastien/New Pornographers tonight, going to Toronto tomorrow. If yr in the hood, holla.

Eli,out.

cold hands, hot bodies.

Another day of the same- cafes, internetting, shopping, art stores– I found an incredible little bookstore/cd shop called Cheap Thrills that randomly had books that I haven’t read (many that I hadn’t ever SEEN) by some of my favorite authors– Vonnegut, Camus, Miller, Bukowski – I ended up spending a little too much money. More parent hanging, more walking aimlessly. Had nice Indian food for dinner at this place run by Scottish Sikhs – they kept calling me 'chap' and ‘laddy'…Rae and I went back to her place to meet her roomies before the night out.

We got a bus down to St. Catherines and went to Foufounes Electronique (The Electric Asshole), this super-bar with 3 floors and a bazillion 19-year olds with their 17-year old best friends and their fake IDs. Sam got us past the 2-hour lineup but we managed to lose some of the peeps we came with, so after just one beer, I and Benji (another Edmonton ex-pat) and I took off in search of Liv at one bar, and other people at another – this wee spot called Barfly. A couple of notes on both: Liv was at a place called Korova – a pretty standard indie/rock/bar with good tunes (including a very exciting discovery in the way of Tim Fite. Awesomes.)…but as soon as I sat down I looked over and made eye contact with this girl who I thought I recognized, because the name ‘Barbara’ instantly came to mind, from my elementary school.... It think it WAS her, but for some dumb reason I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I even told Liv that I’d “never forgive myself” if I didn't…I guess I just won’t. I left Korova for Barfly, where this hot hot jazz septet was just getting into their second set of the night. I like watching interplay between musicians, especially jazz players – they have such an exact sense of rhythm where they can float apart and come back together seamlessly and effortlessly –it’s a unique ability among other genres – I’ve seen noise bands try to be jazzy and jazz bands try to be noisy, and the former often fails.

I'm writng this offline from the back of the car on route to Ottawa – and we just crossed into Ontario – it’s the first time I’ve been here since 1995…weird.

--------
Back in Montreal now after a ROUSING Friday night at the farm, let me tell you.

Seeing that family was nice though...I stayed up way too late watching TV though, and now I'm sitting in Cafe Republique where my newfound friend Marina attacked me last time - I like it here in Outrement; it connects me to a part of my jewdom that I don't often feel anywhere else.

I dont have much else to tell you. It's blizzarding and fucking freeeeezing here, so I think we're camping in tonight, or perhaps escaping for some Shisha. mmm...Shisha.

Collectively animalistic

hola bonjour salut yo.

I woke up yesterday early and got a ride to the nearest metro station, so I could spend the day exploring while my parents and Rae went out to see the mountains (which, in quebec, are just massive condo-covered hills with shitty ski resorts in between)...but I had such a good time on my own. I knew I eventually had to hook up with the lost boys, so I went and had coffee in the village and watched gay men play staring games with eachother...the fact that cities organize sex into districts still fascinates me. I wrote a paper in 4th year on the subject, and looked at Montreal's village as an example of a community so strongly supported by everyone involved that even the Tim Hortons has a pride flag in their window...wild shit, huh?

I got a hold of Mihailo (Mickey) and I got on the Metro to go meet him. I've known mickey, and the 'lost boys'(as they/we grew up being called) since I was 8 years old, and he was 3 or 4. This crew of boys who all grew up across the street from eachother bonded at such a young age, that we as friends are inseperable for life, it seems. Mickey met me at the Metro and we walked back through his neighborhood - Point St. Charles AKA "The Irish Ghetto"...I guess after the bikers all went to jail in the late 1990s, there was a turf war in this 'hood between the Irish drug dealers and a group of African-Canadian dealers...after many violent years in the area, the Irish 'won', and now it's much calmer there. That didnt stop Mickey from pointing out where a little girl got caught in the crossfire, or where they found a beheaded corpse in the park. yikes. that said, I never felt unsafe walking around their community. I guess in it's 'day'(the 50s/60s), the Irish ghetto rivaled South-Central LA or the Bronx for 'roughest neighborhood in North America'...it's also the oldest industrial area in Canada, so that might have something to do with it. 75% of all welfare recipients in Montreal live here, making up 2/3 of those in the neighborhood in full.

we got to their flat, which is odd, and slanty and totally absurdly cheap for them to live in (they all pay less that $150 in rent every month)...we all met up, drank tea, and went on a loooong walk down to the banks of the St.Laurent river - it was beautiful - we walked out onto the ice, just a bit, and could see the swell underneath the ice, so we backed off. the crew broke up a bit, and M and I and this guy Chris all went for an even longer walk all the way downtown to Concordia, and Mick and i went on continued walking adventures, but nothing so glamorous to bore you with here.
I met up with my parents and we went to go see and INCREDIBLE show at the Contemporary Art Gallery by Anselm Keifer, a german sculptor/painter who had his first Canadian exhibit opening - I've never seen a gallery that packed in my life - there was literally HUGE lineup for coat check, a HUGE lineup to get INTO the main gallery, and then a MASSIVE lineup just to get to the Keifer exhibit. I assume it's because it was 'free day' at the gallery, but holy fuck. It's amazing to me to see a city support visual arts like that. In edmonton, just mumbling about spending a cent more on public art space, and people flip. Lame.

anyways, this was among the more striking pieces in the show:


its a old bible, bronzed (I think) with wings...the show was called "Himmel-Erde (heaven-earth)", and was about reconstructing mythic symbols to create new meaning in spirituality - it was deeeeeep.
his paintings are massive...look!




Rae and I left the 'rents at that point to go see ANIMAL COLLECTIVE, which is something I've been looking forward to for weeks - the show sold out so quickly in the first venue that they had to move it to this gorgeous old theatre called La Tulipe...we got in no problem, checked out a bit of the opener and decided it was kinda boring, so we went and bought a supercan (AT 7-11!!) and drank it in the alley out of a paper bag...it's funny to think how UNcivil that might seem, but it kinda made me feel all big-city-like to do so. We finished up and went inside and got a good seat on the upper balcony...and they band, of course, was amazing. I like the new record, "Feels", but live the sound is so much more...dense and involved and heavy. The stage lights were never bright enough to see any of their faces, and as they thrashed and danced and boogied in the dark, I got the familiar sensation that I feel privledged to experience so often, where I realize that I'm seeing someone's passions in action - its a warm, accepting feeling I get at shows sometimes, where it doesnt matter to me what it's sounding like, but the performers are so...into it, they MAKE the show.
this was one of those cases.

the show was over, so we caught a myriad of busses, walked a bit, and boom, I was crashed out on a couch.

today: lunch w/the rents, more walking, drinking tonight with what seems like it'll be a massive crew - Liv and the YM girls are in town, Sam and Duncan are coming out, the lost boys, the sister...rad. I may not post tomorrow, because I'm going to ottawa, but we'll see.

take care, friends.

je pense je suis fatigue.

ok - attempt #2.

I'm surrounded by someone else's luxury in Terrebonne, Quebec - about 1/2 hour north of Montreal. There is snow everywhere, piled 5 feet deep along the roads and on people's lawns. This neighborhood is fucking ridiculous...every house has grey stone facades, double garages, and variations on the 'castle in the prairies' look that seems SO popular around here...I suppose some context is in order.

I'm in Montreal visiting my sister, and my parents have arrranged to be here too. We're at this house because they have traded homes for a week with the couple whose house I'm in right now...they are in Canmore at my parents small and modest bungalow. We're here in their MANSION. I shit you not, here is what this house has:

-6 TVs - including a 5' mega HDTV flatscreen insanity.
-xbox & PS2. why both?
-a pool (outdoor, dammit.)
-foozeball, an indoor virtual driving range, an indoor skateboarding area/rampkinda thing
-a 12-piece drum kit/guitars/amps
-a workout room
-my DREAM shower - 5 spouts at once!
-2 dining rooms, 3 living rooms, 2 NICE cars, a massive kitchen with more cupboards than there is stuff to put in them.
-'theme rooms': one son has a football theme, while the other has hockey. The bathroom upstairs has a 'nautical' theme (blue everything, creepy sailor art, weird rope/knot thingy on the wall). The master bedroom is bigger than any bedroom I've ever seen in my life.
-2 basements! huh?
-a 'shed', which looks like it houses a SAUNA, among other things (a guest bedroom, maybe?)

nuts. Anyways, I'm led to assume that these people live here and surround themselves with this stuff as a way of sedating the urge to be adventurous, to dope their children into thinking that all they need in life can be bought, and to tell themselves that the city is unsafe and boring, and life is simply better in the burbs.

fuck it. Montreal is everything I remembered it to be. I walked around today and smelled the old city, ate smoked meat sandwiches dripping with mustard, spent money on records I can't find elsewhere, and loved it.

It made me think of the last time I was here - June of 2002. Laura and I were here learning french in Trois Rivieres, but we'd come into town on the weekends. It was so exciting - clubbing, going to shows, spending lazy sundays at Mont Royale, listening to the TamTam jam, smoking joints while Hare Krishnas danced and chanted around us. Their golden robes billowed and glowed.

Montreal, I'm totally crushing on you. I love your windy streets and endless fire escapes. I love being in the language minority, and just listening to you phrase the words "ok" and "merci". I love the attitude of the pretty girls who know it, and of the well-dressed men who hide their modesty behind $400 sunglasses. The smells. The snow. The lack of mutual respect for pedestrian and driver. Yelling old ladies. Smarmy and distracted old men. Jews who wear it on their sleeve (or hat, or kippah, or beard). I feel immersed in real culture for the first time in a long time. It's in the old buildings, and in the preserved copper roofs. In the churches and synagogues, black and grey from all the smog. It's almost romantic, how you flirt back with me constantly. Awww, I'm blushing.




Yesterday when the plane broke through the clouds and the city lights splayed themselves out underneath me, I was swelled with excitement and nervousness about my week to come. Would I be able to tolerate my family? Would I see the lost boys? Would they be all grown up? (I get to find out tomorrow, I guess). I met my parents @ the bus station and we went for Thai food...as soon as I got in the car I passed out and woke up outside of the mansion in which I sit now.

Today was fun too. We all went to Concordia to check out my sister's campus, which is nice, if not a bit wierd - it's basically spread out over several office-type towers, with one floor of each building devoted to a study (science floor, arts floor(s), etc)...I didnt realize it before, but I guess the Quebec gov't mandates that 5% of all visible space on any new architectural project has to be devoted to public art! The library at the uni has a cascading waterfall of letters tumbling off the roof, all silver and glinting in the afternoon sun. Beautiful.

I went from there with my stepdad Dean walking up St Laurent where we went to the world-famous Schwartz's deli and sat at the bar and ate what they invented - Montreal Smoked Meat. It was the first beef I'd eaten in 6 years. Weird, huh? It was salty, and sat like a rock in my stomach all day, but I guess it was worth it in the end. We shopped and hung out and drank too many coffees...we met up w/my sis and ma and we all went to see the Montreal Symphony Orchestra, which was actually really fucking cool. I haven't seen a full symphony play since I worked at the Winspear in Edmonton when I was 18...it was fascinating to watch the interplay of conductor and bassoon, of the percussion with the strings. It was a pops series, so we heard John Williams (not some cheesy movie shit, but a fully composed new work), Gershwin and Bernstein and a ballet by Aaron Copeland...it was fun, and I think my mom really enjoyed having us all there together, seeing it. We went from there to Chinatown and ate gross food, which is currently causing a rumble in my tummy. Eech. I need to go to sleep.

More tomorrow, if I can get online. I'm seeing Animal Collective tomorrow...anyone jealous?

Love Love Love
eli out.

ps: talking about 'crushing' reminded me of this album:

"Totally Crushed Out!" by that dog. - an amazing record by a long-defunct band. Too bad, really. Anna Waronker is hot.

FUUUUCK.
I just wrote volumes about my trip.
Blogspot ate it.
fuck blogspot.

strangers in the night

I have no TV. I should say, the TV I have is for movies and games. No "tv" comes to it, so when a show gets popular, or even exists, I'm the last to know. or care.

but tonight, as I was coming home from work at 3AM I passed a billboard that caught my eye.

it was this guy:



Jason Lee, playing a guy named Earl...in a TV show wittily titled, "My Name is Earl".

The funny/strange thing is this: my DAD's name was Earl and he looked EXACTLY like Jason Lee does, in this role. It's fucked.

This AND DJ Hype's MC last night was named MC Big Daddy Earl. [That was the awesome, by the way...cheers to all involved.]

but the point remains. how are us dead dad club members supposed to keep a low profile when shit like this happens? sigh.



I leave tomorrow for my trip east (then west). Well, Monday, but since it's almost 4AM on Saturday night, I say tomorrow. I'm excited. I can't wait to see my sister, and The Lost Boys. it's been too long, friends. Too long. See you soon.

(This hug stretches coast-to-coast.)

Max's Joke

A baby seal walks into a club.









bwahahahaahahha.

Rocks and other hard places

I need to get some shit of my chest.

I seriously want to fucking get all HULK!SMASH! today. I'm getting ousted from my office to make room for the Edmonton office of our calgary sub-company...I've known this was coming, but didn't know when or how; and so last week, at our staff meeting I was told that it would be this coming monday that I'd be out, and they'd be in. I was to share an office with a co-worker, which was annoying at first, but I decided it would be ok as long as the transition was seamless.

it wont be. the calgary guy who's supposed to be ordering me a desk, hasn't. when I tried to expresss my frustration to him, he just cut me off and shot me down. I feel like I can't really turn to anyone else in the office because it's not really any of their concern, nor should they care. But in the end I feel like a refugee, kicked out of my 'place' with nowhere to go or work, except the boardroom table, which s.u.c.k.s., is phoneless and NOT AN OFFICE. I'm just frustrated that it seems like this transition affects nobody but me, and so nobody else cares, nor should they, really.

The second thing I feel like I need to vent about involves friends, heartache, heartbreak and dirty rotten scoundrels. I can't and won't go into the details here, but I've basically done some minidetective work and found out that a old friend of mine is being cheated on by her long-term boyfriend. and the more I dig into it, the more shit I find out about this guy, and about the 2 or 3 other girls he's been with recently. Because of the randomness of my discovery, I feel like I don't know whether or not to tell this girl about her philandering partner, or if I'm just MISSING something here, like maybe it's an open relationship, or maybe he's just...like that.

Hrm. I don't know if I feel any better. I feel even more heavily weighed upon by this all. I feel like charlie brown, thinking he's FINALLY got the ball this time. But no, no he doesn't.



Have a good weekend, friends.

(rndm)

ran·dom (rndm)
adj.

1. Having no specific pattern, purpose, or objective: random movements. See Synonyms at chance.



photos by the fabulously talented (and not to mention, TALL) Ira Lee Anderson go show him some love.

my eyes have been bugging me lately.
they are sore, tired, dried out.
I feel like they are constantly watering, shedding their own protection.
it might be the stale air in my office.
or staring at a screen all day.

they itch. and make me sneeze. and my eyelashes stick together when it's cold out.

in other news, Beedogs are making my week. I'm working on a bunch of stuff for work right now that could RULE should it pan out. It's the frustrating/amazing part of my job is getting to work on things that MIGHT be and COULD be, if the right pieces fall into place - but I'm learning NOT to get excited about it until the final stages, because I know how volatile the industry is. Hell, look at Cat Power, for chrissakes. What a flake. Her agent must be PISSED.

It WAS snowing, but it's not now. I miss the snow. The REAL SNOW, not this lame shit that is dusting our streets. It's fuckin FEBRUARY, and it hasn't snowed more than 5 inches since before xmas. Last week when I was outside the Blackdog, this busker was like, "can we stop for a second and recognize that it is FEBRUARY right now? Seriously, people. Feb-ru-ar-ee."

We laughed. I've been doing that alot lately. I like making Leah laugh. It's such a nice sound. Sigh. I won't make you, my faithful readers, gag yourselves with spoons by going into the nitty gritty of my relationship, but I'll just say it's fun and interesting and new and growing. I'm happy. Well rested. Getting lots of work done. Enjoying time with friends. Trying to keep myself on an even keel.

ok I've avoided work long enough. it's 9:45 in the morning, the grumpy italian lawyer neighbour (yes, paul the shitter) is up and yelling already. Funny.

Oh yeah, while you're here, and about to leave, maybe choose one of these exits:

Exit to the left
Exit to the right
A hole in the ceiling
A trap door!

Wise words

A quickie before the weekend:


"Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.”
-Kurt Vonnegut