The True Adventures of Jep Comix!

I've been meaning to discuss the wonderful first issue of Jepcomix for some time.

You can get all the info on Jepcomix including how to purchase online and where to purchase in Toronto at

Bad Monkey X

You can even read the first issue online, just be warned that you will get yourself hooked!

Jep's writing is insightful, at once witty and warm...sort of gently satirical. I can't say that I know much about the comic book world, except that I worship Charles M. Shultz and really enjoy Seth. Jep's work fits that aesthetic quite nicely.

Also, the artwork is really striking, I especially like the ink washes used in the backgrounds.

If a pair of amorous robots look a little familiar, that's no coincidence...guess I can check "have self featured in super awesome comic book" off my to do list.

Enjoy!

Bird Lives!

Today marks what would have been Charlie Parker's 85th birthday.

From the 1958 recording that Jack Kerouac did with Steve Allen "Poetry for the Beat Generation":

Charlie Parker

Charlie Parker looked like Buddha
Charlie Parker, who recently died
Laughing at a juggler on the TV
After weeks of strain and sickness,
Was called the Perfect Musician.
And his expression on his face
Was as calm, beautiful, and profound
As the image of the Buddha
Represented in the East, the lidded eyes
The expression that says "All Is Well"
This was what Charlie Parker
Said when he played, All is Well.
You had the feeling of early-in-the-morning
Like a hermit's joy, or
Like the perfect cry of some wild gang
At a jam session,
"Wail, Wop"
Charlie burst his lungs to reach the speed
Of what the speedsters wanted
And what they wanted
Was his eternal Slowdown.

The Buttoned Down Mind Strikes Back...In Toronto!

I had the absolute pleasure of seeing Bob Newhart live last night at the CNE bandshell. What a rare treat...sitting in the open air on a beautiful night, breeze blowing, fireflies buzzing, surrounded by friends and family, experiencing one of the greats of comedy (for free, no less).

I grew up watching Newhart in the 80's and later discovered The Bob Newhart Show in reruns. When I first started dipping my toes into the comedy writing and performing pool Newhart became one of my touchstones. Smart, understated, observant.

Newhart is known for his deadpan delivery and a slight stammer which he has incorporated into his persona. All of that remains with him onstage today, which is no surprise. What did surprise me a little was how relaxed he seemed, how disarming his mega watt smile was and the charming way he often chuckled at his own bits. Mr. Newhart corpsed more than once, which only added to the fun for me. Several of his funniest and most well known bits involve hearing one half of a telephone conversation. Last night saw the classic bit "Introducing Tobacco to Civilization" and one that I think is new, where a man who works at a banquet hall takes a reservation for the last supper. He chastises the apostle on the other end of the phone for calling without much lead time because "It's Easter Weekend, a busy weekend for us". Har.

Last night saw Mr. Newhart doing a number of accents as well. A great bit with Henry Kissinger as a stand up comic is particularly memorable.

He closed the evening with a short film and a few clips from his hit sitcoms, including the enduring classic, the best last scene of a series ever, you know it, you love it...Newhart's final scene suggesting the entire series had been a bad dream experienced by Bob Newhart Show's Bob Hartley.

Perfection.

Photo Courtesy Maureen Nolan Photography.

Paved Paradise

Check it out: The Canadian National Exhibition was founded in 1879 to encourage the development of agriculture, manufacturing, industry, commerce and the arts. Over the past 127 years the CNE has grown to be the largest annual fair in Canada and the fourth largest in North America with an average attendance of 1.4 million visitors annually.

As a kid, I used to go the Ex many times over the course of it's three week run. The Toronto Blue Jays played on the grounds at Exhibition Stadium before the dread Rogers Centre (nee Skydome) was built and you could gain entrance to the fair with your ball ticket. In those days you could get a general admission ticket good for any game of the season for $4. You could get those half price at Dominion Supermarket. Imagine, for $2 a whole day at the fair and a ball game. It jars me to think of it. There really were good ol' days...

Exhibition Stadium was a complete hole. Concrete. Astroturf. Bad lighting. Built for football. Just awful. And how I loved it. Oh, and how I miss it. I still feel as though I could weep with nostalgia every single time I walk by the parking lot that exists where it once stood. I close my eyes and I can smell the hot dogs, hear the crowd and the crack of the bat. I can feel the breeze blowing off of Lake Ontario and see the seagulls flying overhead. I'm like an amputee who thinks they can still feel their legs when I stand in that parking lot.

I loath Skydome. To me, Skydome is like the evil stepmother who never really thought about me the same way she did her own children. Skydome punishes me unnecessarily with it's multi-purpose facility façade and cramped seats. Skydome mocks me and makes me scrub the metaphorical floor.

Time marches on and we all grow up. Visiting Yankee Stadium was a pilgrimage, as close to a religious experience as I will ever have. But Exhibition Stadium was home. My childhood and innocence crumbled with it the day they knocked it to the ground in favour of a parking lot.

Miss Chatelaine

Picked up the September issue of Chatelaine, because my wonderful and multi-talented friend Brooke, who I don't see enough of, has had an article published discussing the ins and outs of attending a film festival. I am quoted as Toronto International Film Festival regular, Tracey Nolan who "likes to see a few films I know little about". This probably makes me sound like a bit of a free spirit (read: flake) next to all the folks who discuss subscribing to Variety and reading various websites as research. The fact is, sometimes it's nice to be surprised. Go into a movie with no expectations and sometimes walk away having seen a gem. What's more exciting than that? Well, lots of things I guess, but still...

I have also discovered that there was lots of great stuff between the covers of Chatelaine this issue which leads me to believe that they have either hipped the content of the mag way, way up, or I am getting further and further away from my youth.

I love Fried Eggs!

Remember that Lotto commercial from the 80's? I think it was for Wintario....where people were running around singing "I love Fridays"? Only it sounded like they were saying Fried Eggs? Silly. Anyway, I do. I love Fridays and Fried Eggs. So everybody wins.

Busiest week ever at CSIS due to visitors from China and upcoming visitor from the Bronx. So glad the weekend approaches!

If you are looking for something to do this weekend, may I suggest The Andrew Scott Quartet at the Rex Hotel this Sunday (August 21st) at 9pm? Or how about Jack Mosshammer and Doug Morencey doing their fab 2-man improv act with the amazing Robeau on keys at The Toronto Improv Fest? The show starts at 8pm on Sunday, at the Alumnae Theatre so in theory you could catch some great comedy and some great jazz all before you get back to the daily grind on Monday.

If you're wondering about the above photo - don't. It is Bernie the Wondercat. You can call her "Boo" or "Boogaloo" or my personal favourite "(Breaking Two) Electric Boogaloo". You love her, admit it.

The Aristocrats: It's the singer not the song

Tina Fey was quoted a few years ago in the New Yorker saying “If you want to make an audience laugh, you dress a man up like an old lady and push her down the stairs. If you want to make comedy writers laugh, you push an actual old lady down the stairs.” If you are planning on seeing Paul Provenza and Penn Jillette's documentary The Aristocrats, keep this in mind.

The Aristocrats is a joke that has been with comics since the days of Vaudeville. The joke is never told in public, it's a like a secret handshake for comics and it is, in no uncertain terms, the filthiest joke you'll ever hear.

What is unique about the joke is that while the set-up and punchline remain the same, the mid section, in which an outrageous, filthy stage act is described, is flexible, allowing comics try to out-do one another describing the most vulgar things imaginable. The punchline, where the name of the act is revealed to be “The Aristocrats,” is almost anti-climactic to the joke, making it perhaps the only joke that exists more for its set-up than for its payoff. As Penn Jillette notes, “It’s the singer, not the song.” In fact, more than one of the comics interviewed mentions John Coltrane…the worlds of comedy and jazz intersect once again.

In the film over 100 comics analyze, deconstruct and deliver their own versions of the joke. The first big laugh of the evening for me was when two patrons walked out of the theatre ten minutes into the film, after the first complete telling of the joke, by none other than George Carlin. What exactly were they expecting? Animated cats? One wonders...

The thing I think I enjoyed the most about The Aristocrats was watching the sheer joy that came over the faces of the comics telling the joke. There's a certain freedom that comes with pushing the envelope like that, and anyone who has ever gotten on stage with the intention of making people laugh can tell you - there are times that a groan is more welcome than a giggle.

Everyone will have their favourite telling of the joke. Mine, hands down is Sarah Silverman's. She deconstructs the thing, acts the hell out of it while telling it and takes it places that I don't think anybody else working today could. She's damn smart and damn funny. The animated version from the South Park boys is also great, filthy and innocent at once, like all of their best work. Mario Cantone, doing the bit as Liza Minelli is priceless, he really captures the "show biz" of the thing. Bob Sagat is a revelation, if only for that one move where he measures a certain body part using his face. That's all I'm saying.

Gilbert Gottfried tells the joke in public, a few weeks after 9/11 at roast for Hugh Hefferner. It's not the funniest version of the joke, but it's so inspiring to watch him up there, sacrificing himself and getting back on the horse for everyone. The laughter in that room is a big, cathartic cry. Gibert Gottfried is one brave man and the hero of the piece. An outcome as unexpected as the punchline of the joke itself!

Night Train

Through the magic of audio blogger, Oscar Peterson's classic recording Night Train. Ray Brown on bass, Ed Thigpen on drums. For all of you kids who are too giddy to sleep after the excitement of OP Day. Enjoy!

Happy Oscar Peterson Day!

Today I've been walking a little taller, there's been a smile in my eye, and a song in my heart. I've annoyed loved ones, coworkers and strangers alike with my non stop cries of "It's Oscar Peterson Day!"

I'm including some (fuzzy) photos that I snapped of the event this afternoon at HMV to unveil the OP stamp. The first photo is of OP and his stamp. The second is of OP, his birthday cake, and special guest Diana Krall who attended with her husband Elvis Costello. It was wonderful to see Ms. Krall, obviously as moved as the rest of us to be in the birthday boy's presence.

For more on OP visit

His official website

where you'll find discographies and some very insightful journal entries.

Great reading for anyone interested in OP, jazz, the history of Toronto or education is Andrew Scott's scholarly article on

The Advanced School of Contemporary Music

I could go on at great length about Oscar Peterson's ability, his elegance and his taste. I’ll refrain from that and say only this; I am proud of him, Canada is proud of him.

Diana Krall put it beautifully when she said "God bless you and the day you were born".

Indeed.

Oscar Peterson

Tomorrow, Monday, August 18, 2005 will mark the 80th birthday of the one and only Oscar Peterson. To mark that occasion Canada Post will be releasing a stamp with his image on it, jazz fm will play all Oscar all day and I will write more on this truly wonderful man...but for now, a heads up....Oscar Peterson Day...tomorrow!

I'm a little excited. Can you tell?

The beauty of unintentional humour in sad times

I decided to watch Larry King last night since they were doing a little show in remembrance of Peter Jennings, who as you know passed away over the weekend. I always liked Jennings, he was handsome and smart and being Canadian at his roots, always seemed to be just a little more "fair and balanced" than the other big players in the news game. I gravitated to him during the 9/11 coverage because while he was clearly stressed - even heartbroken, he was speaking about the "why" of the thing right away, like a good journalist would, while everyone else was still in whatever stage of grief "anger" is.

At any rate, Larry King spent the first half of his show talking to Brian Williams (the American, not the Canadian who I will always picture in an orange polyester sport coat), Bob Scheiffer and Bernie Shaw, which was cool. The second half was going to be dedicated to a look at lung cancer, because that was what claimed Jennings and in a weird coincidence, Dana Reeve, long suffering non-smoker and beautiful widow of Christopher Reeve announced yesterday that she too, was suffering from lung cancer.

Larry was throwing to commercial break and says..."When we come back Christopher Reeve's widow Dana CARVEY announces that she has lung cancer".

Well isn't that special!

Whaaa?

Testing this new blogger picture thingy. Look Bloggy McBloggerson, a monkey! And he's so very shocked to be here! Ain't technology grande?

Gatemouth

Today, August 4th, we celebrate the birthday of Louis Armstrong - jazz trumpeter, innovator, personality and granddaddy of them all.

Armstrong's nickname Satchmo was an abbreviation of "satchelmouth," a joke on the size of his mouth... He was also nicknamed Gatemouth, Dippermouth, Dip, and simply Pops...a nickname that had nothing at all to do with the size of his mouth. That's nice.

While I like to pretend that his recording of "Hello, Dolly!" never happened and I find “I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do – they’re really saying I love you” the creepiest lyric EVER, today I will I listen to his recordings of Potato Head Blues and Struttin' with some Barbecue (both sheer bliss!) and think about how grateful I am that there was a Louis Armstrong. He was one of a kind. His importance cannot be overstated...and he sounds GREAT!

Happy Birthday Gatemouth.

Bernie Senesky Trio

Caught Bernie Senesky at the Rex last night, during their early evening / after work set. I love that you can get live jazz downtown, for no cover, every single day at 6:30pm. I don't always love the programming for the early set, but really, who cares? It's the fact that they do it that counts and when somebody like Senesky plays the early set it's an extra special treat! I take the Rex for granted sometimes. Shame on me.

Senesky was playing his korg organ last night and was his typical amazing self. I love, love, love the jazz organ / B3 sound. This sounds silly, but it reminds me of christmas. When I was still in high school I bought a christmas compilation that Verve put out with some Jimmy Smith versions of holiday songs on it. That was my introduction to the B3 and to Jimmy Smith so whenever I hear the instrument I get that warm and fuzzy christmas feeling. I've said it before and I'll say it again, sometimes those method acting classes I took in my early 20's pay off. Sometimes.

Senesky played some originals, some Strayhorn, some Jobim and to greatest effect, I think, a really swinging version of Come Rain or Come Shine. He was joined by two young uns' - Nick Fraser on drums and Nathan Hiltz on guitar. Hiltz held his own and was fun to watch, simply because he was clearly enjoying what Senesky was doing so much. Fraser was great on drums, inventive without being intrusive and often very sparse. I appreciate that economical approach to the drums, you don't hear it much. Great stuff.

Bernie Senesky will be appearing at the Rex every Tuesday at 6:30pm in August (except Aug 16th).

Bonjour Brioche

Zeenoixy joined me for lunch on Friday at neighbourhood haunt, Bonjour Brioche. I was anxious about taking a day off from CSIS and was in need of a distraction and from what I’ve heard the baguette at this joint would be just the ticket.

The thing is, I’ve never been a really big baguette fan. Probably because I’ve never been to France. I was convinced that Bonjour Brioche would make me a convert and I was right. The baguette transcended all of my expectations. The other aspects of this place that get a lot attention are the long waiting times and the poor; some would even say surly service. We would have preferred a seat on the small patio that sits along Degrassi Street but it was full and we were relegated to the small, overheated indoor seating area. I ordered lemonade to beat the heat and was disappointed that it was of the “Snapple” variety and not freshly made. What I was hoping for was something homemade like we experienced at Balzac’s coffee shop in the Distillery District the week before. That was fantastic! It would have been nice if I were given a glass of ice to go with the lemonade as well, but no, no ice for me. The service was not a bad as I had come to expect after everything I had heard though and while the servers were not falling over themselves to be friendly or helpful I certainly didn’t feel abused.

For my main course I went with one of the many tarts that was on the menu, a bacon, tarragon and butternut squash tart in fact, which came with salad and baguette. The aforementioned baguette was worth the trip alone and the salad dressing (a basil vinegrette) was magnificent. I purchased a bottle of it to take home and try. Hopefully Zeenoixy will work her food diagnostician magic on it and we’ll be able to make a reasonable facsimile of it ourselves. The tart on the other hand was disappointing. Too eggy, like a mini quiche. I don’t go for all that egg. The tart that Zeenoixy ordered had gorgonzola cheese in it, which helped balance the egg a little bit, but still, I wouldn't go for that again.

If I wanted quiche I would have ordered quiche!

I just imagined myself sitting in a French bistro, surrounded by quiche yelling that out like Tom Cavanaugh in that old Labatt’s commercial.

I pillaged the take out counter on the way home and have to say the baguette didn’t seem to translate. I think it may be one of those things that needs to be eaten FRESH. I mean seriously fresh…right out of the oven! So from now on I will eat my baguette there, on the premises. Also brought home an almond croissant (fair, but not as good as the one from Balzac’s), a giant macaroon (again, fair) and some actual brioche, which really was rather bland…and stale tasting later that day. The second brioche went au revoir in the trash bin before we even sampled it.

I will be back for more of that baguette though, even if you’re not in the neighbourhood it’s worth the visit to Leslieville…or South Riverdale…or the Film District or whatever they’re calling us now.

Remember that they only accept cash and keep an eye out for the autographed photo of Bill Cosby on the wall, a pleasant anomaly. It might also be worth noting that Bonjour Brioche is not affliated with Hello Toast, the pleasant breakfast haunt at Queen and Pape.

Bonjour Brioche
812 Queen St. East (at Degrassi, just West of Broadview)
Toronto, ON
416 406-1250

It Takes an Idiot: The Rick Santorum Story

He's at it again. Senator Rick Santorum was all over the news shows this past week promoting his new book "It Takes a Family" (gag) and picking a fight with Senator Hillary Clinton (author of "It Takes a Village") over the "correct" way to raise a child. First of all, this whole scenario is just nonsense. I mean if I was looking for child-rearing advice I'd go to Dr. Spock or Marilyn Dennis or that toothless homeless guy on the corner. What I would not do is go seek counsel from two US Senators.

"Excuse me, Senator Santorum, my baby won't sleep through the night...do you have any advice on how I can get him to sleep?"

"The right to privacy doesn't exist in my opinion of the United States constitution."

"Um, okay...but he's colicky I think. Anything for colick?"

"Marriage doesn't include homosexuality. It's not, you know, man on child or man on dog, or dog on your baby or whatever the case may be either."

"Senator Santorum! Nobody is trying to fuck my baby. He's just colicky."

Asshole.

When I asked Senator Clinton the same question she gave me some line about making sure I gave my man head every night. That's no help either.

But I still like her better.

And so does my man.

Boom chick-a!

I think that perhaps we should put this little war of the words on ice until the Santorum brats are old enough to have a chat with Chelsea and they can let us know who the better Mommy is - Rick Santorum, the bigot, or Hillary Clinton, the woman Santorum likes to call a "radical feminist".

Radical (political views):
Favouring or effecting fundamental or revolutionary changes in current practices, conditions, or institutions.

Feminism:
Belief in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes.

Guess I'm a radical feminist too. How do you like that!

There's a definition out there that's gaining a certain popularity. Syndicated Seattle based sex columnist and gay heathen Dan Savage has dubbed the "sometimes frothy, usually slimy, amalgam of lubricant, stray fecal matter and ejaculate that leaks out of the receiving partners anus after a session of anal intercourse" as get this...santorum. It's sweeping the nation. Santorum is sweeping the nation.

It's my hope that in ten years or so, a whole new generation of young gay men use the phrase santorum without knowing its etymology. He should really just disappear.

Pierre Trudeau was right, there's no place for the state in the bedrooms of the nation.