New Orleans: Now more than ever?

There's a great article by Matt Gross (the frugal traveler) in today's New York Times discussing vacationing in post-Katrina New Orleans.

I chronicled our trip to Baton Rouge and New Orleans back in April, seven short months after Katrina beginning here (and rambling on for days and days). Sure there were some rough patches during the trip, but overall my memories of it are just great - and I can't wait to go back.

If you're looking for a place to go have some fun and feel good about spreading some of your hard earned money around, you know where to go!

Preservation Hall, April 2006

Nature Girl, reporting for duty.

Just back from a relaxing weekend in Collingwood with the Robeau. We figured we should get another visit in before winter hits and the rates go through the roof for ski season. He was traveling all last week so it was nice to put down roots for a couple of days. The chalet we were in this time was smaller than the last visit and felt a little more "cottage-like" which isn't really a selling point for me. However, it was adequate in most respects and far, far superior in one other. Two words people...hot and tub. Oh, the joy of a hot tub! I could have lived in that thing. No, really. LIVED in it.

The view from the kitchen window


Is it safe?


Winter is on it's way...


The Robeau becomes one with the trees.


Not sure why I feel compelled to share this no make up Sunday afternoon shot with you. Probably just to prove that I actually left the city. Next time I'll hold a newspaper with the date next to my head.


Rural Decay


I really like rust. Does that make me weird?


More rust. So much more interesting than the trees, right?


We found a rust gold mine on the grounds. Why there was a pile of rusty chandeliers I couldn't tell you, but I really enjoy the curly q lines.


Wood. Chopped. You see a lot of that in the country. Odd that it was on our property since the chalet we were staying in had an electric fireplace.


Also to be filed under "weird" and "on our property" a truck, with an unlocked door and a fake christmas tree in the cab.

Anita O'Day 1919 - 2006

Character.

By now we've all seen Michael Richards' weird racist outburst in a Los Angeles comedy club. And the subsequent apology. Yesterday, when I saw the video my first thought was, "yeah, Richards was always the weird one". Whenever the cast of Seinfeld got together and did television interviews to promote the DVDs of the series he always seemed like the odd man out. Jerry Seinfeld was always personable, funny and first and foremost a true professional. Jason Alexander was the "actor" of the group and a fine interview and Julia Louis Dreyfus was always looking like a million bucks and the most like her on screen character - quirky and charming. Richards always came across as aloof, distant and put off. Like he resented having to promote his art. Michael Richards was never funny. Michael Richards as Kramer? One of the finest comic creations in television history. With the help of Jerry Seinfeld, Larry David and the dream team of writers they brought together, Richards was able to bring something really special to life.

Michael Richards never should have been on that stage in the first place. The man is not a stand up. It's actually kind of insulting that he thought he could get up there and do that kind of an act. He couldn't. Letting any clown get up there with a mic is like giving a child a loaded gun. He didn't know how to use his weapon. Ironic that he spent a decade working with one of the greatest crafts people ever in Jerry Seinfeld and he didn't pick up any tricks of the trade. He lost control of the audience and when he tried to bring them back - with startling rage and ugly racist comments - he went off the rails. I get that he was angry. It's not fun to be heckled. I've been there. But ANY comic worth their salt knows how to handle that kind of obstacle. And any human being worth their salt knows that you don't talk to people the way he did.

Michael Richards is a great character actor. What's sad is that a couple of nights ago, he displayed a shocking lack of personal character. And you know what? That matters.

Where I come to you for holiday advice...

This weekend as the Robeau and I drove back from our visits to London and Sarnia I was switching around the FM dial and found a radio station that has gone all holiday! Too soon? Ummm, hell yes, but am I going to complain? No, no I'm not. Because I am one of those people. Those people most of you out there hate. I'm a total whore for the holidays. And you know, now that American Thanksgiving is approaching I feel like I can give myself the green light to go for it and start thinking about decorating the house! And playing the christmas music! And to try the new holiday recipes! "and this and that and things of that nature..."!

Arty close up of last year's tree. And yes, by "arty" I do indeed mean blurry.

Last year I chronicled my music picks. Tell me - am I missing something? Recommendations? While you're at it, share your fave holiday recipe ideas and decorating tips. I'm opening this one up for discussion. I want to know your traditions and your favourite ways to spend the cozy winter nights. Share, internet friends, share!

The Kindness of Strangers

I am writing to you, Bloggy McBloggerson, from London, Ontario. The Robeau and I are on our way to spend the day in Sarnia so I don't have much time, but I wanted to share with you this article from today's online edition of the New York Times (it's set to appear in the Sunday book review). I thought you might enjoy spending time with John Waters talking about his hero, Tennessee Williams as much as I did.

I'll see you in hell.

It had to be about five years ago (or was is six?) that I met Reimer at one open mic night or another. He had just arrived from Calgary to attend the Humber College comedy program. You meet a lot of people when you're toiling in the comedy trenches. Most often they are friendships that start off intensely, burn bright and end quietly. That's just the way it is. Performers are strange. Writers are complicated. Comedians? All of that and more. So much more. Reimer and I hit it off immediately and in the years we've been friends we've also been able to perform together and work together (at CSIS). For a couple of years there we saw eachother every single day...so it's going to be very strange for me now that he's flown the coop and moved to Boston to be with his wonderful and talented girl. If you have to put one of your dearest friends on a bus out of the country at 11pm on a Tuesday night it's nice to know that they're going to someone who is more than worth it.

So Tuesday night at 11pm I did just that. Put the boy on a bus. But first, he wanted me take some publicity stills of one of his characters "Todd". Todd is a rockstar and we thought it might be fun to take the pictures late at night at the oh so scenic Toronto bus terminal, home to white slavers, abuse victims, drug dealers and an assortment of colourful personalities. Reimer wouldn't even stand out in his outlandish costume. Right?


I've put all the Todd shots into this photo set if you are curious to see the rest. Just for frame of reference, I'd like to include a photo of Reimer, how he usually looks in the this post. And there is one picture in particular that I'd like to share. The thing is, I can't give you my honest description of it without potentially offending, well, EVERYONE, so I'm going to temper you, dear readers, with a disclaimer first:

It's been said that 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 comedians laugh, you push an actual old lady down the stairs.

Reimer and I at a Christmas party last year...


A few months ago when I was going through my iphotos I stumbled across this. Reimer had just left to do his one man show in Edmonton. I emailed him the following message under the subject "mindset":

Hello Friend,

Hope you're still tearing up Edmonton.

I was cleaning out my old iphoto library and I found this picture of us at the Christmas party. It ALWAYS makes me laugh because I think it looks just like the pictures they use on CNN when they're memorializing the victims who worked at the World Trade Centre. Look at us! We totally work in finance and we were totally trapped on the 105th floor.

Our respective families lived in Connecticut. You had two kids and a golden lab and I lived with my widowed father. I cooked him pasta every night and none of them ever knew about our secret affair.

I'll see you in hell.

Nolan xo

And you know, I sincerely hope that I will see him hell. He'll be the cheerful one starting the sing along of campfire songs...

Welcome Back, Mr. Mayor!

Monday night Toronto reelected our Mayor, David Miller to a second term and I couldn't be happier about it. Miller is a man of integrity, he's got undeniable charisma (yes, that is important in a leader, don't you think?) and I share his vision for what's best for our city. Most importantly I think he really cares about what's best for our city and I think that's way more than you can say for our last mayor who was a first class Assclown. Who misses his leadership? Noooooobody!!!!

A candid shot of Mayor David Miller that I snapped at this summer's Toronto Jazz Festival

It was obvious from the outset of the non-campaign that began a couple of months ago that Miller had no real competition. Jane Pitfield was the only other candidate that got any attention and she lost in a landslide. She did get support from big business and the suburbs but Toronto succeeded in electing Miller, who is practically a Socialist despite being saddled with the 905ers. Now, please, don't call me a snob here because I'm down on the burbs. I know, we're different! We're not better! We're just different! Right, we are different and that is precisely why this whole GTA megacity thing is a mistake. We do not have the same needs. You think the 905ers don't feel like they're saddled with those of us downtown in the urbanbleedingheartbubble? I bet they do. I bet that's why they supported a candidate with no record, no political skills and crazy eyes. Seriously, the woman has CRAZY EYES. Kind of like that Runaway Bride chick or Glenn Close or...Nancy Pelosi.

It has been said that Miller was a "do nothing" Mayor in his first term and frankly, I just don't buy it. I've seen the results of his "Clean and Beautiful City" initiave downtown and in my neighbourhood. I've felt his support of the arts first hand and I've been confident in his leadership, knowing that he won't kowtow to greasy backroom dealings or embarrass us on the world stage. I look forward to seeing what he's able to achieve in the next four years with the support of everyone in this fair city. It's a good time to be a Torontonian!

Gene Bertoncini

When it was suggested by Andy that I should check out guitarist Gene Bertoncini (who he studied with at the New England Conservatory) at the Rex this week I made sure not to miss it. He's got great taste and I trust his judgment completely when it comes to these things. When I got there I realized that just about every other jazz fan in Toronto proper had shown up. It was Wednesday night and the place was so crowded at the top of the first set, you couldn't have squeezed another listener through the doors if you wanted to.

Despite some tuning issues, which frankly you would need to have much better ears than mine to be bothered by, I was initially struck by the warmth of Bertoncini's tone. It brought to mind two legendary guitarists I've been lucky enough to catch live this year, Bucky Pizzarelli and Jim Hall. Bertoncini, who plays an acoustic, classical guitar, has played with the likes of Dizzy Gillespie, Buddy Rich, Tony Bennett, Lena Horne, Wayne Shorter and oddly enough, Luciano Pavarotti.

Gene Bertoncini reacts to the crowd's reception of his closing number "Con Alma".

Bertoncini plays standards. I could have identified every tune he played that night, and probably have parrotted all the lyrics for you if you asked me to. He's the kind of musician who's also one part entertainer, making sure to play the familiar, well loved tunes and telling jokes to the audience during the set. The one about the rooster? The one about the monks? The one about the nymphomaniac? I heard them all Wednesday night. Now, that's not to say that just because he plays the familiar tunes he doesn't stretch as an improviser. The harmonic sophistication that you would expect from a man with his pedigree and reputation was there. The lines were elegant - sometimes breezy, sometimes delicate, always swinging.

Joining Bertoncini on the bandstand were two of the genre's best players Terry Clarke on drums and Dave Young on bass. You cannot go wrong with these guys. Every time I get the opportunity to see them play in a small venue like this, knowing that they've played concert halls and festival stages the world over with the likes of Oscar Peterson I remember how lucky I am to live in such a great jazz city.

Bertoncini with two of Canada's greatest musicians Terry Clarke on drums and Dave Young on bass.

It was a lovely evening of sublime, soothing, swinging guitar jazz of the first order, from an entertaining, fun guy.

This just in! Rummy has fallen on his sword.

Great day in the morning! Of course this won't mean anything in the long run, but it still feels like a victory. The kind of victory that should entail dancing in the streets and kissing random strangers...wheeeee!

All about the new guy, Robert Gates, who you can hire to speak at your next meeting.

Hoping against Hope...

It's a grey and rainy fall day and I can't wait to curl up on the couch, remote in hand. I'm ready to hunker down and spend all night watching midterm election coverage. I mean, I'm confident that the Dems are going to take Congress, but what about the Senate? It could happen! It could happen! I am full of hope.

I should be careful though.

I've been full of hope before. And look where that got me.

The races that I'm the most interested in following are the ones involving Harold Ford Jr (how can you not love a Democrat savvy enough to print the 10 commandments on the back of his business card?!), and Rick Santorum (how can you not want to watch that assclown get his just desserts?!). Something tells me this is going to be good television...

How will a big win for the Democrats (and therefore a big loss for Bush and the neo-cons) impact those of us up here in the Great White North? Well, after Harper has seized every opportunity to align his government with the Bush administration, the weaker they become, the weaker Harper becomes. Won't he have to cut and run on Afghanistan and nuclear proliferation and global warming and well, all of it if Bush and Co. are faced with a hostile Congress and all that entails? Without strong International support for his backwards and wrong headed policies and ideals won't he be forced to listen to the will of the Canadian people? Or will ideology prevail over good sense, prompting our neocon Prime Minister to maintain his grip on a failed president? Only time will tell. Only time will tell.

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, Friends and Lurkers alike, I give you Stephen Harper (just because I never get tired of seeing this picture):



And with his BFF, in his big boy clothes:



Here's hoping it's a rough night for the both of them.

Date Night

After wrapping up my week at CSIS on Friday night I headed to the Local for some drinks with Reimer and my wonderful and funny friend Mr. Doug Taylor. Mr. Taylor has a sharp tongue, a twinkle in his eye and the most magnificent way of making even the most rumpled and cat fur covered amongst us feel like nothing less than style icons, bless his heart. And Reimer? Well, I just need to get my fill of that man before he leaves the country. I imagine his departure will leave me feeling more than a little bit...widthdrawlly. Widthdrawlish? Widthdrawlsome?

After Happy Hour with my boys I headed to meet the Robeau in hopes of getting tickets to the opening night screening of Borat. We showed up an hour early, but all the tickets were gone already. So, boo hoo, no Borat for us.

Instead we browsed around the bookstore for a little while and then the Robeau took me to my favourite date night destination. The do it yourself car wash. Big soapy brushes? Oddly worded signage? Coin operated vacuums? All more fun than fancy dinners, flowers and candy. You can quote me on that.

Mr. Echo gets all the bird poop scrubbed off. He was so covered in it looked like he had been carpet bombed by pooping birds. Assaulted. In the dark of night. He didn't want to talk about it. And he refused the rape kit.



The do it yourself car wash is a technicolour world.



This would work for the ladies room too...



Little known fact: Charleton Heston used to write copy for signs in the do it yourself car wash.



Whaaa?



Is it just me or does this look oddly like the US Homeland Security Advisory System? Except for the "Have a nice shiny day!" part. Tom Ridge would have been well advised to soften his message that way, don't you think?

For me to POOP on!

We now realize why Bernie did what she did the other night. She was getting in character because she wanted to be this guy for halloween.