The Power Of Music
On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
SharkBoy and I hit the corner of Gerrard and Woodbine and stand in front of the TTC stop, waiting for the streetcar. With us is a well dress couple who, probably like us, are coming home from a seasonal house party.
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
The stop is just outside a divey bar - the kind that generally fills up when a major sports event or end-of-the-month cheques come out.
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
The four of us are doing little dances to keep warm.
I heard the mission bell
The woman of the other couple notices a solo guy standing in the front window of the bar. He's holding a mike and staring at a karaoke machine. The monitor is showing the next song, but the musical lead in is really long. We should totally sing this, the woman says.
And I was thinking to myself,
this could be heaven or this could be hell
We start to sing like it's Xmas. I haven't heard this song since my high school days (it reminds me of drunk cottage parties) and I'm amazed at how I stumble over the quick lyrics.
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
We sing the song, add some falsetto harmonies and the odd comment ("Any time of year, you can drink a beer!"). The song ends and we applaud and get a nod from the singer. As if on cue the street car comes. We say nothing else to each other as we board the car, the awkward Toronto attitude killing any further conversation, falling like a curtain. Moment over.
Welcome to the hotel california
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the hotel california
Any time of year, you can find it here
Gold Is At An All Time High
Okay listen up people. I am completely sick of the influx of "gold for cash" commercials on TV these days. Toronto television is beset with these low budget commercials depicting shady looking people urging you to come to their strip-mall outlets with your family memories in hand to get rich quick.
The commercial for "Jewellery For Cash" (original, eh?) has an obese bald dude getting out of an 80's Ferrari in front of his second story walk up store front, emblazoned with "Cash for Gold" neon in the windows, while the voice over proudly offers loans up to (and I shit you not) "$1,000,000". Okay first off, if they can offer that much, why are they in a commercial row-house, second floor office? Security for all that cash, I guess. And secondly, you'd think this guy could afford a tailor instead of a Sears XXXL t-shirt. By the way, isn't it illegal to carry more than $100K out in public? How's he going to get you $1M in cash? Under his shirt?
Second up was Sharkboy's favorite, is Harold the Jewelry Buyer, where people gleefully confess their greedy desires after selling off their heritage to this dirty nailed, greasy midget. "I love my new TV!" shouts a gap toothed couch potato (it's small). "We're going on a cruise!" bellow a lonely housewife as her partner dances in an ugly Hawaiian shirt behind her. And the best scene: a bag laidened shopper is videoed in front of some mall stairway as she does the most awkward dance ever, while lamely shouting "Woo hoo." I can only describe the lameness of it by saying imagine Rida Rutner cheering and dancing. I'm sorry there's no video to accompany this one because the best line (probably delivered by Harold's off-the-boat Romanian mom) is "It was so easy. Now I'm ready to shop!" with "shop" coming out as "chop", evoking zombie fantasies.
Third up is Buster's Brampton where judging by the utter tounge-in-cheek directorial wetnoodleness of this video, the next budding Judd Apatow/Kevin Smith is probably brewing right now. Slovenly, fat clerks promise "Maximum Cash!" at the tops of their lungs as their guts flap in the breeze. Watch the chubby guy on the right at the beginning of this clip - he's wishing there was a snack truck on this shoot:
Of course, I can't mention awful gold commercials without a nod to the grand daddy of Cash For Jewelry hucksters: Russel Oliver. To be fair, he's got to be the most creative. Even after DC Comics tried to sue his ass out of existence for using a Superman costume and calling himself The Cashman in one of his commercial, he still manages to churn them out. If he's not pedophilically scaring Halloween kids (he dumps money into their treat bags) then he's dancing with Ho's. Truly he is the Michael Bay of Cash For Gold commercials. Not to mention topical: he pulled this commercial just days after Diana died:
And finally, my current fave: Oren. So casual he doesn't need a tie. So suave the ladies gush as they hand over their belongings. So sure he'll give you the best price he leaves his shirt dangerously unbuttoned like it was the 70s. I love how he watches the cougar leave his store with a leer frozen across his unshaven face and akimbo stance that says "I'll see you later, ladies! Ka-chow!". I made a remix of the part that makes SharkBoy sit up and take notice:
Disney: Excitement
Things blind you in the World. You lose site of your behaviour at 100%, 60%, 40% levels of excitement relavite to the heart-racing thing you're exposed to, while discovering things in the Parks. You come around the corner and there's Goofy in a cowboy hat! Goofy! OMFG! HI! Then you notice he's not noticing you. Then you notice the line for photographs. 100, 60, 40. Just like the forced perspective of all the buildings along Main Street.
In this fete of excitement you discover things about people you love. Things that may make you either love them more or question the whole foundation of your relationship.
Case in point: Lunch at T-Rex Restaurant. We're stuffed to the gills on massive burgers and nachos and we're walking it off in the gift shop. A section in the back is a Build-a-Bear outlet that had been modified into "build a Dino" in keeping with the whole restaurant theme. Nice. I've never been in one and wandered in for a browse. I'm looking at the different "breeds" of dinos you can get when I hear a manly girl scream.
"Look at these cute shorts!!"
Yes. It's SharkBoy and he's holding up a pair of cargo pants, sized for a baby or a baby dino or someone with serious medical problems. He's gushing like a prom queen stuck in the football team's locker room. The only other time I've seen him excited like this was when we bought lightsabers at our first trip to Disney. He immediately picks out an orange Raptor and thrusts it into my hand to get the attendant to stuff it while he wanders the isles looking for cuter outfits.
Not sure if you've ever done the "Build A Bear/Dino" experience. The stuffing machine attendant gives you a cloth heart that you have to rub, blow on, give a kiss, make a wish and CRAM into the centre of your creation. Yeah, I had to do that part. I wished nobody was watching.
At the end of the whole process (including making a birth certificate - say hello to Kiki2, newly adopted by yours truly, Libido Suiddlygoot), SharkBoy discovers a tiny pair of cammo tighty whiteys that illicit a final peal of delight and an extra reach for his wallet. Now, those were cute. I admit it.
Did this experience soil our relationship? Hardly. It made me love him more. It's a rare moment to see this kind of behaviour from him and it also makes me love Disney even more.
Disney: Transportation
I can confidently say the only way I have not arrived at a Disney theme park is by jet pack. Every other imaginable way has been done.
On foot? Walk it out! Bus? Yup. Rental car? Yup. Train? Woo woo! Monorail from the future? Por favor mantengase alejado de las puertas! On the back of a white tiger?
Don't let's be silly, now.
This is my second time renting a car for the week at Disney and I thought this time we could save some money by just using the bus system but I was quickly reminded that the car offers a freedom from bus-exhaustion, or, if you will, not having embarrassing pictures of yourself put up to Flickr of you asleep rubber necked, slack jawed and drooling. Plus it was a perk since the resort price included free parking at all Disney properties, meaning we could hop from park to park for free.
While driving isn't as enviromentally sound as Uncle Walt would like, it beats having to experience "the Crush" - the scrum that happens every night when each park closes. Even though the busses run every two minutes, two minutes with a grumpy sleepy child, arm loads of souvenirs and an empty stomach stretches out to eternity. Still, it's fun to see a child's face after a day of experiencing a park: worn out, over stimulated and content.
I've always loved the Monorail system at WDW and this time we tried every ride to sit in the front. All the drivers were gracious, chatty and friendly but one stood out. Missed his name but he had such a memorable southern drawl that we couldn't hear 99% of what he said:
Me: "Did it take long for you to train to be a Monorail pilot?"
Pilot: "Habamemnrm... wermmsh ahslib. Ha! Ha hahaha! Mummminy mouse!"
All of us: Blank Stares.
He let us sit in the command chair for photos before leaving the cockpit as long as "we didnmrnt touchmna stick, k?" Sharkboy is NOT touchmna stick, k? But his face says otherwise.
Like this picture? It's basically what Luke saw when he climbed up the underside of an AT-AT walker. We were asked if there were any "rides" at Disney Hollywood Studio, but that's going to be a SharkBoy post. Keep your eyes peeled.
The largest ride at Magic Kingdom in terms of showy-ness and "fake" transportation would have to be the paddle boat. I say "fake" because it only goes forward, constrained to a submerged track in the "lake". Discovering this after riding it for the first time was a bit disappointing because I always fantasized about the River Boat Captain going mental after a day of looping the Lands and ramming the boat into Tom Sawyer's Island for kicks.
Ironically for this post, the WDW Tomorrowland Transit Authority People Mover was closed during our stay. It's one of my favorite decompression rides: it doesn't offer any thrill other than a calming view, much like Carosel of Progress is my favorite "nap ride".
Disney 2009 – Dining
I have nothing new to report about Disney, per se. Yes it's still the pinnacle of customer service. Yes the rides were just as fun. Yes, Stacey was the first person you saw when you turned on the hotel TV. It was all the same yet the familiarity was like going to a friend's house who has 1000% better home electronics than you do.
Not much has changed since my last vacation there, except for a few tweaks (for the better) to their services and a couple new rides. I won't repeat myself for the sake of old time readers. Know that while there wasn't any bed-jumping videos of excitement, the emotion of being there was just as strong.
Collectively between three cameras (not including the Photopass service Disney provides), I estimate we took close to 2500 pictures. I'll be posting some here but the brunt of them from my camera will be on Flickr for your perusal. Don't expect captions for all!
Now, on to the subject at hand: Food!
Know that we had absolutely NO bad meals on any of the Disney properties (including third party chain eateries). That isn't to say all our meals were perfect: when we discovered that Oh Boys! on Colonial Drive in Orlando had been closed for a while (update your website you dicks! That includes you, Google Earth!), we motored back to Downtown Disney and still managed to have a great meal - at twice the price, unfortunately. My only complaint is that all manner of food at Disney World is shockingly expensive. While we were eating in moderate to "classy" places like Coral Reef Restaurant at EPCOT (blackened catfish!) or The Crystal Palace (Character Breakfast with Eyore!) at Magic Kingdom, I still dreaded the bill at the end of the meal.
The only time I noticed a staff, err... Cast Member not entirely in tune with a high level of good service output was at the Beaches And Cream Ice Cream Parlour. See video below. I think this was her one thousand time serving up this kind of sundae just on this day, to screaming over-sugared children, made evident by the robotic delivery of the room-stopping announcement (but she does save herself at the end with the "young" comment, blessherheart):
The most surreal meal we had was at The Grand Floridian - Afternoon Tea in the Garden View Room. The room was Mary Poppins Perfect: vaulted ceilings, Victorian styling and proper china tea pots. No fart jokes here. I found the atmosphere a bit intimidating, like walking into a $100/plate restaurant wearing Old Navy. Actually, that's exactly what I did. But the waitress never made me felt like I had. Her timing was infallible and her service top notch.
The other patrons made me think of bored, rich housewives having to actually socially interact with their immaculately dressed children while the husbands were off avoiding their kids playing golf and the nanny had the day off. Oh no, no rides for these tykes! They had to enjoy liver sandwiches with no crusts and were ordered to sit on their hands until the meal was finished.
At least that's what I imagined going on at the table beside us.
At one point Sharkboy decided to let loose with a bawdy, off colour joke and proceeded to laugh heartily. Suddenly he stops and says in his best educated voice: "Pardon me. Ha. Ha. Ha." We all snickered like kids in school.
Our last meal was a pizza on our hotel bed, tired out of our minds from 9 days of walking, riding, laughing and just having fun. It was the perfect last meal for all the sensory overloading.
Doors Open Season
Saturday! Woke early to go to the gym and and a breakfast burrito (yes, quite low fat thank you, when you build them yourself - more later). We grab a tea and make our way to CBC early for Open Doors Toronto 2009. We thought with all the layoffs the Ceeb is facing soon, it would probably be a great time to go have a gander at this government funded media bunker.
And bunker it was. Security was buzzing, trying to keep track of volunteer staff, who bitched and complained to each other on their headsets. I'm sure the level of security you would normally have to pass through is there to protect Peter Armstrong from marauding fans, and not to hide the somewhat extravagant hallway decorations placed there for the general public not to see... We were first for The Hour studio tour and had to endure some poor volunteer's worker's utter mental breakdown for lack of organization in her line. We were shunted to an elevator which ironically (?) the doors would not close due to overcrowding. With all of us explaining to the elevator operator that we needed to lose 2 people, the poor volunteer staffer was about shout "I'M JUST A VIDEO ARCHIVIST! I KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT HOW TO OPERATE AN ELEVATOR!!" when two people volunteered to get the next one.
The studio was pretty flash, even though the seats looked "cheap wedding uncomfortable" so we know that the money going to the Ceeb isn't going back into the public. No, it's being spent on huge screen TVs to tart up talk shows only 1/3rd the Canadian public watches. Here Sharkboy and I are playing George Stroumboulopoulos and Jean Chretien:
We took the next tour of the radio department and had an interesting run of various sound proof rooms. Quite interesting.
After that we went to Osgoode Hall and wandered the dusty hallways of justice.
We then tried to get to the Don Jail but they turned us away due to a 4 hour wait, which was too late past the closing time. I thought to myself "Who would wait four hours to see an old jail?" Disclaimer: I use to manage a traveller's hostel in Ottawa that was converted from a 165 yr old jail.
Me apparently. Sunday we were back there at 945am and in line. Warned that the line was 4-5 hours long, we stuck it out. And stuck it out. And braved line-jumpers and fidgety kids.
ALL IN THE NAME OF GETTING READY FOR DISNEY!
Bored, in-line video:
The jail itself was probably not worth the 4 hours wait due to the state of the building. But it did remind me of the use to live in the jail/hostel I managed and it just brought back memories of impossible maintenance hoops our staff had to jump through every so often. Pipes bursting, kids falling off bunks, flooding, etc.
After 5 hours in the sun, SharkBoy's neck looks like an ad for an S&M Red Lobster outlet. Being red-green colourblind and able to see the shade should let you know how bad he got it across the back of his neck.
On the upside, my Wii is no longer calling me Obese. At 214lb, I have moved into the realm of Overweight. Yeah! I made my Disney weight goal with a few days to spare!
Last night I dreamed of O Boy's Ribs on West Colonial Dr, Orlando. Oh yes, there will be binge and purging...
Fallen Out
KABOOM!
This weekend I finished Fallout 3 finally, after something like 40 hours of running around and killing Radroaches and listening to Three Dog howl "Thanks for liiistening... people!" And yes, I managed to get minor plasma TV burn in from the Hit Points meter. Nice!
I have to admit that using Liam Neeson as the voice of your father throughout the game skeeved me a bit. Okay a lot. He's got a great voice and all, but I got this "pervy dad" vibe every time I heard his voice. Thing is, you have to suffer through the first half of the game while he coddles you and encourages you to grow up smart and strong. Stranger danger!
However, using Malcolm McDowell as the voice of the Enclave President was a stroke of genius. I suggest that for Fallout 4, they please use Hugo Weaving? That man is my favorite villain right now.
I originally didn't want to play this game because the characters looked too much like "Thunderbirds" puppetry, but thanks to SharkBoy's love of the commercial (the long slow pull out while using The Inkspots I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire), he made me get it during the Xmas sales. I was hooked after an hour of game play. Not as artistically intrinsic as Bioshock, but intriguing and engaging in it's multi-layered storytelling.
Now we're on to playing LEGO Indiana Jones, which are a ton of fun for two people (except the co-op can get a bit frustrating if you decide to go off and do your own thing and wind up yelling at each other for not being on your side of the screen). It's amazing they can recreate the three movies in 99.99% pantomime. Or maybe that's testament to the crappiness of the movies? Regardless, the game is a lot of fun with nods to Star Wars all the way through it.
I of course, can't wait until they make the Lego version of this movie:
(video inspired from G4's Attack of the Show)
Full Circle
The phone rings last night and it's the Old Audio Dude (my third in line brother), he's coming to Toronto with Heather and The Mop, my incredibly thick-haired nephew. No really, this kid's hair is incredible considering he came from our gene pool of hairy backed, thin-on-top family. He can take solace (or sadness?) in knowing that no Mii editor, no Xbox avatar creator, no PS3 Home builder, will every be able to recreate his large, unruly mane.
I digress.
He's here in town and to give Heather the day to herself, SharkBoy and I are going to treat him to a march down Queen West and a movie (Marley and Me). I think there might be robot shopping involved. Expect pictures. What makes me feel incredibly old and expectant, is the fact that he's the exact age when I started to come with my Dad to Toronto on business trips and run around alone on the subway downtown (yeah, they use to let 13 year old kids wander the streets alone back in the 70s).
I'm slightly weirded out that this is how the legacy is passed on - trips to the Silver Snail with $20 in his pocket, a ticket to a movie and popcorn, chased down with big gulps of sugar water. That arcade is closed so I can't show him that - he's voiced his desire to plug into our PS3/Wii/Xbox combo until his eyes bleed, anyway. If I had more time I'd take him to the Science Centre but that's too late. Oh well, we'll teach him the fine art of shopping. Every young lad should learn that early.
Holiday DMZ
Welcome to that zone between holiday events where a weird calm truce exists between the stress of Xmas and the drunken powder keg of New Years.
Since I've been unimpressed with my workplace with a layoff a week before the holidays and the arrival of a new gaming system at Casa RoboShark, (We're "deadrobot" and "sharkboytoronto" respectively on the Sony network), I haven't been in the mood to sit in front of a monitor for the last couple days. Judging by my RSS feed and various other outlets, not much of you netizens did either.
Sharkboy has been documenting most of Xmas this year. I recommend the "Switcheroo" post where, as usual, he proves that he is the utter master in gift giving surprises. I got punk'd and good. I've said before that I give bad gift. I can't keep a surprise, I get the wrong thing, etc. Like all good overlords, SharkBoy preyed upon this weakness of mine and got me good.
Xmas dinner with Da, The Brother Playwright, Sharkboy and myself was perfect. We had Turkey-in-a-box that was delicious and more food than you could shake a stick at. Again, SharkBoy has pictures of our disastrous first attempt at a bear cake here. The rest of evening was punctuated with digesting and good deeds. On the way home we helped a slightly inebriated woman get to her home after she fell three times on the ice. Merry Xmas, titanium hip!
Speaking of gifts, I plugged in the Wii Fit we got for ourselves and the fucking thing tells me I'm obese. Back under the TV credenza it goes. Fuck you, fucking Wii Fuck Fit.
Boxing day we were up with the dawn for illegal boxing day sales (non-Canadians should know that it's ironically illegal for a store to be open on Dec 26 unless in a designated "tourist area", like... uh... a city) and the twinge in my back I felt starting all last week was growing to a rumbling pain, exasperated by quick slips on sidewalk ices. You know the graceful, one foot, Brian Orser style "WOOP" you do when you let your guard down as you walk one of Toronto's many unshoveled or de-iced sidewalks. My back pain grew steadily. Regardless, we were in HMV/Futureshop/BestBuy well before 9am on Boxing day (weird side note: HMV at 830am was like a Bear411.com reunion. I saw so many live profiles it was weird...) and judging by the consumerist frenzy, there is NO economic strife. I'm convinced it's a media manufactured myth: At BestBuy there was a man dragging a 42" HDTV, PS3, armload of games and Home theatre set up to the cash.
At this point I would like to point out that Blu Ray movies on a 50" TV is like angels coming down and spitting heavenly mana into your eyes. And I have not experienced a WOW moment with a home gaming system in a long time since Donkey Kong for the N64. Of course, I'm talking about Little Big Planet. Who isn't?
Yesterday I spent the entire day in pain. At one point I couldnt get myself upright in bed. With tears running down my face, I managed to stand and move around a bit. SharkBoy tore himself away from the PS3 long enough to make dinner and help out but by bed, I was high on back pain meds and slept on my stomach all night. To my surprise, in the morning, I had very little pain. Knock wood it stays away today.
We're going brave the rain (remember folks, it's not global warming, there's always a thaw just before the new year cold snap!) and go see a real movie before we go house-squirrely. Meanwhile, why not peruse some of my Xmas shots here?
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