Neil Young: Someone finally got it right...

I used to live in North Bay in the late 1970's. Don't get me wrong, I loved being 18 years old and residing there. But if you were into "The Who" or the "Pistols", forget it. In a small city with a strong Catholic influence, disco, as horrid as it was, ruled the airwaves.

Sometime during my misspent youth the band "Rush" came to the North Bay Gardens. I, along with my high school buddies, paid some outrageous amount for a ticket (I think it was eight bucks) and decided to see the show. Finally a big time rock act in "Northern" Ontario.

Once they hit the stage it reminded me of somewhat of seeing an elderly aunt's breasts fall out of a dress. You couldn't help but watch, but you felt guilty for looking and being so repulsed. Geddy Lee (the lead singer) hit the stage wearing a kimono (yes, a kimono), Alex Lieffson (the guitarist) was high on God only knows what, and Neil Peart (the drummer).......he just seemed to be playing in some sort of parallel universe. They ripped through fan favourites like " In the Mood" and "Fly by night",but I really didn't much care. The show sucked, the songs always seemed off key and I just couldn't get into it. (For all those Rush fans, I'm sorry. But it's my blog and this after all is the last place where a grown man can express himself without fear or reprisal).

A few years back I was reading the Globe and lo and behold: The guys from Rush had been give the Order of Canada. Apparently it was for their contribution to the Canadian music scene. I guess the panel that decides these things wasn't raised in North Bay in the 1970's.

Just last week the Order of Canada was issued to Neil Young. Now there is a musician who contributed to Canada's music scene!

For those of you who are 50'ish and reading this blog, think of how Neil seeped into every pore of your being. Was there anyone who didn't sing along with "Down by the river". Or an adolescent boy who didn't think of the song "Old Man" when his father had disciplined them for underage drinking? Or a coffee house singer that didn't destroy "Helpless"?

If you want a real treat, go to a place like " Sonic Boom" in Toronto and buy the "Unplugged" CD from 1994. If you don't have a tear in your eye but the end of "Pocahontas" then you are one cruel, heartless swine. Man, this stuff is so pure.

I was in Florida two years ago and I saw Dennis Hopper on HBO talking about Neil. He said it best: "It's like watching Picasso, man......Picasso had his different periods, and Neil has his". Oh, so true.

Congrats Neil. Finally a worthy "musical" Order of Canada recipient.

If only he could have played in North Bay.

What was John thinking?...

Your humble host is cramming for a civil service exam.

Please be patient, or I'll post Yoko singing at the "Rock and Roll Circus".

You've been warned.

If Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck were to fall in the forest, would anyone care?...

I'm just back from visiting my in-laws, so I'm somewhat tired. Ergo, this video about the egregious crap from the American far right will have to entertain you for now.

There is a piece with Canadian contnent coming, I swear.

And now for something completely different...

I'm on my way out the door to my in-laws for the holidays. Here's something that I hope you'll enjoy.

Yes, I know that it's lazy, but 'tis the season for family.

Barrie restaurant reviews...

Bella and I have been enjoying our Saturday " tete et tetes". After dance at the Bathurst I think we've tried every sushi joint in the Annex, so I thought I'd review a restaurant I've found near my humble abode, namely:

Com Pho Asia 2 Noodles
221 Cundles Road East, Unit 11
Barrie, Ontario

As the name suggests, it's a Vietnamese noodle house neatly tucked inside a small industrial mall. I happened to be travelling home via Barrie one night, and stumbled upon this gem by accident.

The first thing that will knock you sideways about this restaurant is the exuberance of the staff. You are greeted warmly and once you are shown your seat, a piping hot pot of green tea is placed in front of you. Not a big deal I know, but with the sudden blasts of Arctic air lately, it was a welcome appetizer.

The menu is typical for a "pho house" with lots of soup, noodle and rice dishes. What makes the Com Pho different and delicious is the size of the portions, the freshness of the ingredients and the presentation of your selected dish. I've eaten at a lot of Vietnamese restaurants over the years, but believe me, this is one of the best I've ever patronized.

My favourite lunch dish is an appetizer of cold wraps stuffed with vegetables and seafood, followed by a medium bowl of the "Chef's special" pho soup. At the risk of sounding redundant, this is a great lunch time treat,and a glorious respite from the fast food restaurants that seem to be clogging the heart of the City of Barrie.

My lunch including a Diet Coke, costs approximately $14.00 including a tip.

Rating: 5 out of 5

An open letter to President Obama from Michael Moore...

The following is an open letter to President Obama from filmmaker/social activist Michael Moore. I felt I would be remiss if I didn't share it with you:

An Open Letter to President Obama from Michael Moore

Monday, November 30th, 2009

Dear President Obama,

Do you really want to be the new "war president"? If you go to West Point tomorrow night (Tuesday, 8pm) and announce that you are increasing, rather than withdrawing, the troops in Afghanistan, you are the new war president. Pure and simple. And with that you will do the worst possible thing you could do -- destroy the hopes and dreams so many millions have placed in you. With just one speech tomorrow night you will turn a multitude of young people who were the backbone of your campaign into disillusioned cynics. You will teach them what they've always heard is true -- that all politicians are alike. I simply can't believe you're about to do what they say you are going to do. Please say it isn't so.

It is not your job to do what the generals tell you to do. We are a civilian-run government. WE tell the Joint Chiefs what to do, not the other way around. That's the way General Washington insisted it must be. That's what President Truman told General MacArthur when MacArthur wanted to invade China. "You're fired!," said Truman, and that was that. And you should have fired Gen. McChrystal when he went to the press to preempt you, telling the press what YOU had to do. Let me be blunt: We love our kids in the armed services, but we f*#&in' hate these generals, from Westmoreland in Vietnam to, yes, even Colin Powell for lying to the UN with his made-up drawings of WMD (he has since sought redemption).

So now you feel backed into a corner. 30 years ago this past Thursday (Thanksgiving) the Soviet generals had a cool idea -- "Let's invade Afghanistan!" Well, that turned out to be the final nail in the USSR coffin.

There's a reason they don't call Afghanistan the "Garden State" (though they probably should, seeing how the corrupt President Karzai, whom we back, has his brother in the heroin trade raising poppies). Afghanistan's nickname is the "Graveyard of Empires." If you don't believe it, give the British a call. I'd have you call Genghis Khan but I lost his number. I do have Gorbachev's number though. It's + 41 22 789 1662. I'm sure he could give you an earful about the historic blunder you're about to commit.

With our economic collapse still in full swing and our precious young men and women being sacrificed on the altar of arrogance and greed, the breakdown of this great civilization we call America will head, full throttle, into oblivion if you become the "war president." Empires never think the end is near, until the end is here. Empires think that more evil will force the heathens to toe the line -- and yet it never works. The heathens usually tear them to shreds.

Choose carefully, President Obama. You of all people know that it doesn't have to be this way. You still have a few hours to listen to your heart, and your own clear thinking. You know that nothing good can come from sending more troops halfway around the world to a place neither you nor they understand, to achieve an objective that neither you nor they understand, in a country that does not want us there. You can feel it in your bones.

I know you know that there are LESS than a hundred al-Qaeda left in Afghanistan! A hundred thousand troops trying to crush a hundred guys living in caves? Are you serious? Have you drunk Bush's Kool-Aid? I refuse to believe it.

Your potential decision to expand the war (while saying that you're doing it so you can "end the war") will do more to set your legacy in stone than any of the great things you've said and done in your first year. One more throwing a bone from you to the Republicans and the coalition of the hopeful and the hopeless may be gone -- and this nation will be back in the hands of the haters quicker than you can shout "tea bag!"

Choose carefully, Mr. President. Your corporate backers are going to abandon you as soon as it is clear you are a one-term president and that the nation will be safely back in the hands of the usual idiots who do their bidding. That could be Wednesday morning.

We the people still love you. We the people still have a sliver of hope. But we the people can't take it anymore. We can't take your caving in, over and over, when we elected you by a big, wide margin of millions to get in there and get the job done. What part of "landslide victory" don't you understand?

Don't be deceived into thinking that sending a few more troops into Afghanistan will make a difference, or earn you the respect of the haters. They will not stop until this country is torn asunder and every last dollar is extracted from the poor and soon-to-be poor. You could send a million troops over there and the crazy Right still wouldn't be happy. You would still be the victim of their incessant venom on hate radio and television because no matter what you do, you can't change the one thing about yourself that sends them over the edge.

The haters were not the ones who elected you, and they can't be won over by abandoning the rest of us.

President Obama, it's time to come home. Ask your neighbors in Chicago and the parents of the young men and women doing the fighting and dying if they want more billions and more troops sent to Afghanistan. Do you think they will say, "No, we don't need health care, we don't need jobs, we don't need homes. You go on ahead, Mr. President, and send our wealth and our sons and daughters overseas, 'cause we don't need them, either."

What would Martin Luther King, Jr. do? What would your grandmother do? Not send more poor people to kill other poor people who pose no threat to them, that's what they'd do. Not spend billions and trillions to wage war while American children are sleeping on the streets and standing in bread lines.

All of us that voted and prayed for you and cried the night of your victory have endured an Orwellian hell of eight years of crimes committed in our name: torture, rendition, suspension of the bill of rights, invading nations who had not attacked us, blowing up neighborhoods that Saddam "might" be in (but never was), slaughtering wedding parties in Afghanistan. We watched as hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians were slaughtered and tens of thousands of our brave young men and women were killed, maimed, or endured mental anguish -- the full terror of which we scarcely know.

When we elected you we didn't expect miracles. We didn't even expect much change. But we expected some. We thought you would stop the madness. Stop the killing. Stop the insane idea that men with guns can reorganize a nation that doesn't even function as a nation and never, ever has.

Stop, stop, stop! For the sake of the lives of young Americans and Afghan civilians, stop. For the sake of your presidency, hope, and the future of our nation, stop. For God's sake, stop.

Tonight we still have hope.

Tomorrow, we shall see. The ball is in your court. You DON'T have to do this. You can be a profile in courage. You can be your mother's son.

We're counting on you.

Yours,
Michael Moore
MMFlint@aol.com
MichaelMoore.com

Sarah Vaughan: Live in Tokyo

'Tis the season for all kinds of ailments. For the past two weeks I've been under the weather. Hence I've been resting and getting frustrated at my inability to go outside and enjoy the fine Ontario fall weather we've been having. Thank God for my Senniheiser headphones and my CD collection.

About three years ago I was listening to a gent on "Public Radio" who sounded like he had some sort of grand pooh-bah credentials in music. The topic was the "greatest jazz albums" that have ever been recorded. The announcer was head over wheels in in love with Sarah Vaughan and some live album that she had cut in 1973. I didn't pay much attention to the name of the album and since it was from 1973, I knew that our humble little music store in rural Ontario wouldn't stock it anyway.

This summer I walked into a book store near London,Ontario and lo and behold: The Sarah Vaughan "Live in Tokyo" album from 1973 had been re-mastered on the "Jazz Lips" label. I purchased it and believe me it was the best $34.99 I've spent in a long time.

At the risk of sounding like I'm fawning, Vaughan is the only person in the world who can sing "My Funny Valentine" and get you so hot that she makes Barry White look like a 13 year old schoolboy (I had an Elvis Costello version on a bootlegged album,and he sounded like a dick). If your significant other listens to Sarah sing "Round Midnight" and they don't want to make love to you, kick them out of your life because they have no pulse and/or crappy taste in music. Seriously, Sarah's music is powerful stuff.

After this album Vaughan continued to record, but sadly she passed away in 1990 from lung cancer. At her funeral she was eulogized by a close friend who said "She had one of the most wondrous voices of the 20th century".

The friend was only half right. She had one of the most wondrous voices in all of music.

Sarah Palin scares the hell out of me too...

I love bitchy women. Any man with half a watt who denies that he loves a bitchy woman, is a liar. I don't mean whiny women who complain to their hubbies that they're tired or they're fat or that their 10 minute routine at "Curves" is killing them. I'm talking about a well heeled, intellectually gifted, self motivated woman who doesn't turn to goo at the site of a dead animal, doesn't read a book because Oprah told her to, and doesn't shake her head like a bobbing head doll every time you express an opinion on religion, sex or politics. My bride of twenty years and I may not agree on everything, but I have to respect her for all her tenacity when it comes to a difference of opinion.

When Sarah Palin first appeared in HD on my Sony Bravia, it was hard for me not to, as Jimmy Carter once put it, "commit adultery in my heart". The summer of 2008 was winding down and Republican Senator John McCain had picked Palin to be his running mate for his run to the White House. Palin had a reputation for being abrupt, direct, and well informed on environmental issues. Palin also cut a striking figure on CNN: That auburn wind whipped hair, those "Dr Melphi" glasses, the Helen like jaw, those tight fitting jackets, those red heels, and that government job in Alaska. What Canadian guy, no matter what his lot in life, wouldn't get hot at the site of Sarah?

Unfortunately I got brought down in spades once Governor Palin opened her heart shaped mouth. It all started with the infamous interview with Katie Couric in September of 2008. Couric, who is not exactly the Barbara Frum of tenacious interviewers, made Palin look like exactly what she has turned out to be: Another vapid hockey mom from Alaska.

For those of you who didn't see the interview, here is a small excerpt:



Couric basically hands Sarah her head on a platter. The woman that I thought displayed an aura of self confidence and sensual bitchiness, turned out to be an inept dunce who gave answers that would embarrass a terminated Wal Mart employee. The interviewed aired to much fanfare and the rest,as they say, is history. McCain and Palin went down in a ball of flames, Obama became a media darling, the Democrats went on to the White House, and most self respecting Republicans caught the last Amtrak out of Washington. I thought that Sarah would no longer grace the lines of resolution on my Bravia, but alas, it was not to be.

Palin has since given up her job as governor of Alaska, has "written" a book, and is taking her show in the road. Even a Grade 5 schoolgirl knows that this is a veiled bid for the White House in 2012, but Palin vehemently denies it.

Palin's book "Going Rogue", is already on most bestsellers list and she is still portraying herself as the God fearing hockey mom from Alaska. ( On her recent stop to Michigan she said to a crowd of well wishers: "Alaska is a lot like Michigan with it's huntin' and fishin' and hockey mom's")

Sarah, her buddy Rush Limbaugh, and the rest of her ilk scare the hell out of me. How can any political party worth their weight in oats take this woman seriously?

Is this the best bitchy woman the Republicans can give the voters of the US?

The Fort Hood aftermath: This could get ugly...

I like to think I have a wide variety of friends.Although I live in rural Ontario, my civil service job allows me to meet and mingle with people all over this vast province.

One of my dearest "work" friends is a woman named Fatima.She works in my office's HR section. Fatima is " 30 something" and her story goes like this: When she was a young girl,she and her family emigrated from Moravia,Liberia. The political climate was such that a progressive Muslim family was persecuted and hog tied for showing any type of work ethic or embracing any kind of liberal view point. Hence, her family came to Canada.

Her mother and father opened a small convenience store approximately 100 kilometers north of Toronto. For those of you who unfamiliar with Central Ontario, it is an enigma: There are tall trees, small pristine lakes,and marinas that dock small vessels, Unfortunately, there is also a small group of inhabitants who see all Muslim newcomers as a threat to their sanctity and exhibit characteristics somewhat akin to the most hardened white trash racists of the southern United States.

Fatima and her family managed to deflect the racist slurs and prosper somewhat, and she ended up working in a civil service job. I got to to know her through my work, and I had the pleasure of getting to know her on a personal level. This was long after the ugly events of 9/11.

The more I got to know Fatima, the more comfortable I got asking her questions about being a Muslim. She answered patiently and projected the qualities that the prophet Mohammad felt were necessary for living a long and decent life: Compassion, empathy and charity. These are in direct contrast with what the criminal scum who call themselves the Taliban preach, namely: Murder, intolerance, and sexism. Unfortunately, it is the latter that most people in North America associate with being a Muslim. But hey, when you get your news from the "Fox Network" or "CNN", who can blame them.

I have a sinking feeling that things are going to get a little more uncomfortable for Muslims in North America.Last week a somewhat troubled, rotund, loser US Army psychiatrist went on a shooting rampage at his army base in Fort Hood, Texas. By the time this swine was finished, 13 people lay dead with scores wounded. The shooter, a Muslim of Middle Eastern descent cried:" Allah Akbar" ( God is great) before commencing the slaughter of his unarmed teammates. Within hours of the shooting, CNN and Fox were reporting the gunman's words, while trying frantically to prove a conspiracy theory that had terrorist undertones.

President Obama, to his credit, went into major damage control telling Americans that this was the cowardly act of one crazed person and not the act of a whole religious community. But by then, it was too late. The words of the shooter were burned into the psyche of every God fearing American who watched the event unfold in high definition.

I cannot imagine the heart tugging, mind numbing black pit of grief that the personnel of Fort Hood are feeling right now. To lose friends, colleagues and soul mates in this type of abhorrent act, leaves one speechless and asking for answers. The US government, the Justice Department and the US Army has vowed to bring the shooter to justice, and get the to the bottom of why this occurred.

But there is another group of people who I am feeling some empathy for: The thousands of Muslims who came to North America who had nothing to do with this atrocity. For every shell casing that hit the floor that fateful day in Fort Hood, there will be scores of Muslims who will be looked upon as complacent co-conspirators. For every time the shooters name is mentioned on cable news , there will be thousands of women in hijab's who are viewed with contempt by their co-workers. For every life that taken on that fateful day in Fort Hood , will be ten ultra conservative talk show hosts, whipping their already paranoid listeners into a frenzy and looking for the Muslim religion's collective hide. Trust me, this could get ugly before it gets better.

If only everyone involved had a friend like Fatima.

The last bastion for male bonding..

In the 1970's there was a magazine by the name of "Oui". It was the brainchild of Bob Guccione, the publisher of "Penthouse". I could never understand why the two magazines were published by the same company. The only difference I could see was that the girls in Oui tended to be from France, while the girls featured in Penthouse to be from North America. It didn't really matter: All the girls made me hot,so I could have cared less where they were from.

While taking the time to actually read an issue of Oui, I came across an interview with Francis Giocabetti ( or some name similar to that). He was an Italian photographer of some merit and he was being asked about his home life. His answer:
"I have three daughters at home, and if I had my way I'd have three more. All men do is talk about hunting and fishing. It's all fucked up.I think women know more about life because they are the ones that bring life into the world".

As fate ( or luck ) would have it, I'm the father of three beautiful girls. As I grow older I ponder what the Italian photographer said: Women do have a profound sense of the aesthetic and my life is certainly richer because of it. However, this does not mean that I don't need a little time with my own gender now and again.

Before I go any further let me explain that I've tried to be a "sensitive new age guy " and so far I think I'm succeeding somewhat: When my daughters were born I took parental leave so my bride could pursue her career. I'm quite content to let my wife dictate how the house should be decorated. I do all the cooking for my family and actually enjoy it. I have grown to appreciate antiques. I let my middle daughter give me manicures. However, despite all these things, the testosterone in in my body seems to always seems to rise to the surface of my olive skin and I find myself agog with the overwhelming desire to watch two steroid juiced men strap leather to their hands and beat the shit out of one another in an organized mayhem called "UFC". Or go down to the local gun club and fire a couple of hundred rounds from a Sig Sauer 239 . 40 caliber handgun, all the while reveling in watching the spent casings fly out of the gas powered ejection port. Ah, the things that stir your humble author's animal instincts...

However, these desires are always fleeting and I am brought back to reality by the needs of my girls. I have though, allowed myself one male pleasure that satisfies my most primordial urges: My weekly trip to Gus the Barber in Toronto.

I discovered Gus ( the silver haired gentleman seen cutting hair in the picture above ) quite by accident. I had dropped my daughter off at dance and strolled down Bloor Street to kill some time. Gus's shop stood out amongst the Korean BBQ restaurants and wholesale electronic shops. The entrance way was marked with a red sign proclaiming : "GUS THE OTHER BARBER", with a Greek national soccer team flag draped over it.

The inside of Gus's shop sends a clear but subtle message: This shop is for men. Period. The walls are adorned with various soccer team flags from around the world. There are several pictures of Gus with various Toronto dignitaries including "Honest" Ed Mirvish, whose gauchely decorated "Honest Ed's" store sits directly across the street. Photos of wives, granddaughters, and girlfriends are proudly displayed in front of each chair, along with various newspaper articles dishing out kudos to Gus and his four other male barbers.

Although I've had this Saturday ritual for the past year, Gus has only cut my hair once. That is because Gus is a hot commodity not only for his hair cutting skills but the paternal advice that he regularly dispenses. He, like most Greek men his age, are only too willing to share their views about love, life family, law and order,and politics. And according to one regular patron: "Gus's advice is always good". All advice is dispensed with a subtle laugh and a sense of dignified decorum.

Gus's clientele are an interesting of mix: White collar and working man, devoted Dad and hungover player, Jew and Muslim, black and white. All sit together swapping jokes ( What's the similarity between the Toronto Maple Leafs and an escort? They both blow for $200 ) while waiting for Gus or one of his skilled counterparts.There are some days like this seems like the last bastion for male bonding.

If any "metro" guys are reading this, I should warn you: This place is not for the feint of heart. If you're expecting some woman named Rina in a body stocking to trim your cuticles, you're too far down Bloor Street. Gus's scissors are sharp, his fingers quick and deft, and he uses this blue concoction on your skin when he is done.

The Italian photographer was only partially correct. Men do talk about hunting and fishing, but at a place like Gus's, it is not always fucked up.

The Calgary Flames put the "swine" in "swine flu"...

Last night I ended up in the emergency ward with my middle daughter Bella. The poor stoic thing lay in bed with a high fever for most of the day, and ended up e-mailing her aunt with her symptoms. My sister-in-law, suspecting swine flu, called me at my work and I ended up leaving work early to tend to my daughter. Swine fly or "H1N1" is hitting the Province of Ontario very hard this winter, with not much relief in sight.

When we arrived in the emergency ward, it looked a scene that Dickens might have written about so many years ago: People with tired, sunken faces were clinging to moaning children who complained that they were " hot",Grown men holding their parents hands saying: "Don't worry Mom, it won't be to much longer now",and frustrated nurses trying to calm patients by saying "Yes, I know you've been waiting a long time, but the flu season is here and you'll have to be patient". It was not an uplifting sight.

Finally around 1900 hrs, we were examined by a young doctor who alleviated my fears: Bella did not have H1N1, but simply had a viral bug that was knocking her out. "Besides", the doctor said " A healthy young person like Bella is not a candidate for the "tamiflu" shot. It's usually given to young people under five and the elderly. Bella is young and in good shape, so she will be fine". After thanking the doctor profusely I brought Bella home, gave her a dose of children's medicine and put her to bed.

I went downstairs and started reading a story on the 'net about the Calgary Flames NHL hockey team. According to news sources in Calgary, the Flames have all had their H1N1 flu shot under the watchful eye of the Province of Alberta's health ministry. The people of Alberta, rightfully incensed, are asking how these healthy young men got a vaccine whilst the rest of the taxpaying population in Alberta has been waited to obtain the vaccine through their local health unit. However, I have to ask: What is everyone in the Calgary Flames thinking?

The H1NI swine flu is killing people everywhere in Canada. Thousands of Albertans line up to get their shots, and these overpaid gorillas get preferential treatment? Did the team doctor not stop to say: "Hey guys, you're pretty healthy, so this might not be necessary right now?". Did someone in the front office not think: "You know this might not look very good and this time"?. Did the players themselves not ask: " Why do I need this? I'm in good shape"? Are these selfish young men living in such an insular world that they have no friends or family that are concerned with the lack of H1N1 vaccine for the truly susceptible? Apparently not. When the press descended upon the players and management they were given the old "Well,we keep a hectic schedule, we get sick" Huh? All kinds of people travel for their job, you morons. What a lame excuse for selfish behaviour.

Good luck with that Cup run guys. I hope the fans in Alberta remember who put the "swine" in "swine flu".

Rush Limbaugh scares the hell out of me...

The art of gift giving is a tricky one. Anyone who believes the old adage "'tis better to give than to receive" was never on the receiving end of a double signed second party cheque for $15.67 ( a gift from my old girlfriend's mother and father....I swear), or a cassette tape of "Rob McConnell and his Boss Brass" ( a gift from my old girlfriend....). My bride of the past twenty years, however, has always had a flair for being generous and buying the most thoughtful of gifts.

In the early 90's my wife gave my a "Grundig" portable short wave radio.I was always fascinated by listening to "American talk" radio personalities. That's when I first heard Rush Limbaugh.

In the 90's Limbaugh was considered nothing more than an overweight Republican windbag. The more that he criticized the Clinton's, global warming and "feminists" ( which he coined " femi-Nazi's" ), the more he seemed to be treated like a circus freak: Someone who no one really cared about or loved, but someone who people would throw money at because they were fascinated by the grotesque.

The radio was subsequently misplaced, probably by one of our many moves, or maybe it fell on the dung heap of obsolescence. Who knows? The radio may be gone, but Limbaugh lives on.

While surfing the 'net a few months ago, I came across a New York station that was only more than happy to indulge Rush for more than three hours while he spewed his trash talk about: women ( If something goes wrong in government, it's been " chick-a-fied", or scrutinized by a woman ), Obama ( his relatives live in huts in Africa), Nancy Pelosi ( "Nazi" Pelosi ), and socialized medicine ( " Our forefathers fought so we wouldn't have to go through this type of thing folks"...What that means I have no idea. ) Don't get me wrong: Free speech is something that your humble author is willing to fight for, but this is simply offensive and irritating. But the thing that scares me the most: Some Republicans are saying that Limbaugh is the "unofficial" head of the Republican party.

Can you believe it? A radio talk show host who spews this vitriol? Do you mean to tell me that the leadership of the Republican party is so rudderless that it turns to this type of of pompous dork to be it's leader? Jesus, what a sad state of affairs.

This really scared the hell of me. If only this type of narrow minded radio personality could be misplaced like that Grundig radio.

What does Johnny think of the Toronto Maple Leafs?...

My father worked for the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce for 40 years. Although I never heard him say that he loved his work, I do think he enjoyed his time at the branch located in at Church and Carleton Street in Toronto. This is where Maple Leaf Gardens, the home of the Toronto Maple Leafs , was located.

One year, I believe it was 1968, the Leafs were in in the Stanley Cup playoffs and they were facing the Boston Bruins. Tickets to the game were a hot commodity and my father was given two rink side tickets from a generous supervisor. (That was the least the bank could have done for him considering the number of hours he worked there, but that is another blog). Anyway, my father decided to take me with him to the game.

Going to Leaf games then was considered the height of civility. Although I was quite young, I remember that men wore suits and fedoras. Women wore dresses and minks, without the fear of repercussion from some well meaning PETA devotee. To quote Henry Hill from the movie "Goodfellas": It was a glorious time.

As the two teams took the ice, I remember looking at the Toronto goalie and thinking of how different he appeared from the rest of the team. He looked like he was pushing 50 years of age and he seemed so small. Only later did I realize that this person was none other than Johnny Bower. Bower was a legend, helped the Leafs win four cups and was a fan favourite. The Leafs lost to Boston that year and have never won a Stanley Cup since.

I was looking through a Toronto newspaper the other day and I came across a picture of Bower. He was going to be attending a "sports memorabilia" show in they city, Man, he looked pretty good for someone who has to be in his 80's. As I looked at the photo, I couldn't help but think: If I took Johnny out for a Stella and some wings, what would he think of today's Toronto Maple Leafs?.

The Leafs now play at the Air Canada Centre which is a poorly designed glass and steel monstrosity situated between a series of condos. The once curvy women who occupied the rink side seats, are now replaced by anorexic pale skinned women who talk on cellphones. Men that once wore suits to the game, are now clad in cheesy Leaf sweaters with the name of their favourite player sewn on the back for no less than $150. The programs that once contained glossy photos of your favourite stars,are now hawking everything from designer clothing to Japanese made cars. But the one thing that has changed the most has the been the Leafs themselves. This once proud team that Bower so capably played for, has become a metaphor for everything that has gone wrong in North America in the past five years: Greed, incompetence, poor spending,and excuse making. The team that my father took me to see, is now a professional hockey team that has not won a single game this year, all the while charging the fan more than $150 a pop (if you're lucky) per ticket, while playing at a level that would embarrass even the lowest tier Russian team.

What would Johnny think?...

Bloor Street Sushi Reviews # 4...

Where does the week go? It just seems like yesterday that your humble author was writing about the dim-witted parents of the " Balloon Boy", and now I'm writing my weekly " Sushi" review.

The weather was a little sketchy as Bella and I headed to:

New Generation Sushi
493 Bloor Street W,
Toronto

This place came highly recommended, so we could hardly wait to eat.

It was a little crowded when we got there, but the cute unassuming waitress who seated us, more than made up for any over crowding.

Bella had her usual "Bento" box, while I had the eight piece Sashimi plate.

After the traditional soup ( which was piping hot ), I got my plate. The presentation was orderly and neat, and the bright lighting of the restaurant gave the food an appetizing glow.

My plate was fresh and plentiful, but the salmon was just a tad on the bland side.
(Yes I know I'm being bitchy).

Bella's "Bento" was huge, and the tempura vegetables were fresh, crisp and hot. She ordered the teriyaki chicken and found it to be a touch fatty.

I had a glass of the house white wine ( Kressman, I'm betting) and the serving was healthy and the glass nice and cold.

The time that we spend here was pleasent enough, but I should confess that I don't think the restaurant lives up to all the superlatives that are heaped upon it. Yes it was "good", but I could not figure out why this place was jammed when all the other Sushi joints were almost empty. Oh well...

Dinner with a tip: $23.45

Bella and I give this restaurant a 4.2 out of 5

We are all the "Balloon Boy"...

The first woman I ever lived with was a woman named Anne. Like most young couples, we thought our love would last forever, we would grow old together, sex would always be mind-blowing and we would look after each other in our "golden years". Alas, it was not to be...

One of the most irritating habits that Anne had ( unlike me who had 1000 of them ), was to reverently follow any insipid news story that any sort of angle of "human" tragedy. ( i.e.-The fictitious story about a woman who placed her baby in a scalding hot oven while the baby screamed:" Mommy don't!", or the story of the kid on the Micheal Jackson video who broke his neck while break dancing..Another urban legend). While her concern for the "human condition" always touched me, I could never figure out why she bought these dumb stories and why they always ended up being splashed on the front page of some crappy Hollywood rag.

I wonder what my old Anne thought of the " Balloon Boy". The story of this poor young lad and his celebrity seeking, undeserving parents from Colorado, have made headlines all over North America. Basically the sordid story goes like this: Trailer trash sleazy parents claim to have built this home made balloon capable of rising to great heights ( unlike the parents). One day the balloon drifts off, Dad claims his young son ( I think he is five years old) was aboard the flight, Colorado Law Enforcement gets notified, the balloon lands without the kid aboard. Media descends like a fat kid on a Smartie, and 2 million National Enquirer readers hold their breath until the kid is found unharmed. The Dad claims his son was in the house all along, the local Sheriff knows a line of bullshit when he hears it, and conducts a full investigation. The result: The parents of the boy have concocted this Kafkaesque scenario in the hopes of landing a reality show on some American cable network.

Now, it should be quickly deduced by anyone with an IQ of over 67 that these parents are swine and have no right reproducing, voting or having a driver's license. But one has to wonder why a couple would jeopardize their family, their sleazy reputations and what ever chance they have at stardom for such a stupid ploy. By giving these types of stories media time are we creating a society of media junkies? By watching these stories on the "Fox Network" and " CNN" are we contributing to the addiction? Are we party to this type of shameless whoring?

If we are, then we are all the Balloon Boy. Our love for this type of dopey story and the fallout surrounding it makes us all guilty of bad judgment and bad taste. It is a sad fact of life in mainstream North America.

Maybe Anne was simply embracing a trend that no one saw coming.

Who's to know?.

Bloor Street Sushi Reviews # 3...

My oldest daughter Peta decided to accompany Bella and I to our Saturday outing to Toronto. After dancing at the Bloor Street Theatre for the day, Bella decided we should try:

New Generation Grill/ Sushi
486 Bloor Street W,
Toronto

This is one of the newer restaurants in the Annex. I think it used to be an Italian restaurant not that long ago.

The first thing that impressed me about this place was the price. We went into the dining room around 4:15 p.m. and found that we could still order from the lunch menu for about $5.99 a plate. How could you beat that?!

Peta ( the vegetarian ) ordered a vegetarian noodle dish, Bella ordered the Bento box with chicken and I ordered the assorted sashimi platter.

The service was amazing. Our miso soups came within seconds of ordering. Everyone agreed that it was the best soup that we've had in the Annex so far.

My sashimi consisted of six assorted pieces. Every piece was firm, flavourful and filling. Topped off with a glass of the house white ( I think it was Jackson Triggs) it was a great little meal.

Peta devoured her veggie noodle dish. I didn't sample any but guessing from the steam rising from the plate, I assume it was hot and fresh. She said it had just the right amount of spice and tang to it.

Bella thought her dish was "alright". I sampled the sushi and found them to be a little "gummy". However, the tempura vegetables that accompanied them were delicious. They were just the right consistency and were piping hot.

This restaurant is a neat little find. The decor was bright, but not overbearing,the service was fast and the price can't be beat.

The price for three people, including a glass or wine and a tip was $38.85


Rating-Out of 5 : 4.5
Child friendly: Yes

Rachel Kramer Bussell is a different kind of cat..

I love the works of Norman Mailer. When I learned that he had helped found the Village Voice I immediately began to follow the publication on line. Living in rural Ontario, going on line was the best way to read the " Voice" given the fact we live about 700 kilometers ( give or take) from New York City.

One day while browsing the column section, I came across an entry entitled "Lusty Lady". How could any hetero male not be drawn to that title? I quickly double clicked on the said entry, intrigued by any "Lady " that would entice her readers with a title like that.

Reading the first few lines about a female authors night in NYC, I thought maybe that I was in for a diatribe somewhat akin to what the average housewife may hear on " The View". A few lines later the author named Rachel Kramer Bussell , put any fears to rest.

I quickly learned that Ms. Bussell has a passion for cupcakes, self determination, writing and spanking.No...not your children, other adults. I thought maybe I had misread or misinterpreted Ms. Bussell's column, but alas I had not. Self worth, spanking and cupcakes. Man, in a civilized
world of people who are dying to "getting to know" themselves, Rachel Kramer Bussell is a different kind of cat. Here is a woman who knows exactly what she wants, has the chutzpah to be frank, embraces her libido and loves cupcakes. What's not to love?

Although she no longer contributes to the Voice, you can view her site at: http://rachelkramerbussel.com/

Go ahead, you won't be disappointed. But be prepared: Her site is addictive. And she's a different kind of cat. Thank the Gods for that.

Polanski's Drill Sergeant...

When I was a young man I had a Drill Sergeant with the surname of Harvey. For the life of me I cannot remember his first name, but I do remember the life's lessons that he taught me.

One day while out on the parade square a recruit had the balls to ask: " Why are we doing this?". Instead of bellowing a response or berating the poor fellow, he took us all aside and told us the following: Marching in unison teaches teamwork, it builds character and evokes a sense of discipline. According to Harvey, character was essential for any successful man. It meant standing up for the underdog, doing the "right thing" when no one was looking, taking your lumps when you did the wrong thing, and making amends to anyone you had slighted.

Recently, the film director Roman Polanski was arrested on an outstanding arrest warrant. For those who don't know, Polanski plead guilty in the US for the rape of a 13 year old girl. Before he could be sentenced he fled the US and hid out in France. He was there for more than a decade before he was arrested last week in Switzerland. He is now awaiting extradition to the US for his failure to appear for sentencing.

Friends of Polanski and some in Europe are pleading for the US to annul the extradition request and allow him to stay in France. The victim in the case claims she wants to get on with her life and doesn't care if Polanski is extradited or not.

Don't get me wrong I am no fan of the US "sentencing" process. Too often men and women are jailed for excessive periods of time under such measures as the "three strike law". But this is not the case with Mr Polanski. There is no doubt as to his guilt. He admitted he was responsible. However, he flaunted the fact that he was released prior to sentencing, and chose to ignore the responsibilities that come with being a US citizen. He has also had the privilege of being able to continue his craft without any penance whatsoever. This just boggles the mind.

It's obvious to me that he never had a Drill Sergeant named Harvey.

Her 15 minutes are up..

Years ago, I was in a Toronto hotel with my family. I was waiting patiently in the lobby whilst my parents shopped in the adjacent retail stores. Somewhat bored, I decided to use a payphone to call my girlfriend who was living in North Bay at the time. This was long before the days of cellphones, e-mail and "texting".

As I was making my way to the payphones, a young woman in front of me abruptly dropped one of the phones, yelled something unintelligible and left. I immediately recognized her as Mackenzie Phillips, the young star of " One Day at a Time". Although she was a huge hot commodity at the time, I was struck at how homely she was, and how she appeared to have slept in her clothing.( Yes I know that sounds bitchy, but it's the truth). I didn't watch her sitcom all that regularly, so she was never really on my radar screen for the remainder of my teenage life.

Last week Ms. Phillips once again came to my attention. This time was not a chance encounter in a hotel, but via a news report that she had slept with her father John, in a " consensual " sexual relationship. John, long dead, is unable to rebut any of these allegations. His ex-wives vehemently deny the story ( what else could they say?) , leaving Mackenzie to peddle her story to Oprah and anyone else who will listen. Her allegations are all recorded her in her book" High on Arrival". When queried as to why she wrote the book, Phillips replied something along the lines of : " It was my moral duty, I want to make sure something like this never happens again to anyone else" , etc...

Although the allegations made by Ms. Phillips are serious and the offence a vile one, one has to wonder: Why now?These allegations are decades old, and Mackenzie has had plenty of time and media coverage over the past years. Why weren't these charges levied then? Why Oprah in 2009 and not Merv back in the younger days?

Is this a true call for all those who have been abused to rally together? Or is this a woman who realizes her 15 minutes may be up?

Only Mackenzie and her long departed Dad will ever know for sure.

Bloor Street Sushi Reviews # 2..

Ah, another Toronto Sunday with Bella. Despite the drizzle, we still had fun and went out for Japanese food after her dance class. This review is about :

e sushi
522 Bloor Street,
Toronto,ON
(Family freindly)

After a long day of dance, my middle daughter was famished. She ordered the Bento box with California Roll, while I ordered the eel sashimi.

My dish was chewy, but not in a in a revolting way. It just had enough texture and firmness to make it interesting. I had a glass of the house white wine ( I think it was Kressman ), and found that the serving was generous and at the PERFECT temperature.

Bella said her California Roll was the " best she ever had", but the chicken teryaki was just "alright". I picked away at her plate and found that the portions were just a tad on the small side.

The service was good, however,the dining room had to be 32 degrees Celsius ( I'm not exaggerating).

Bella and I give this restaurant a 4.2 out of 5

The above meal, with one glass of wine: $ 32.75

PS-Thanks to "Mike" for the photo

Ann Coulter is as dumb as a post...

Peta, my oldest daughter is taking an interest in American politics. Hunter S. Thompson said that politics was " better than sex". I think that's open to debate, but I'm glad my daughter is taking an interest in the former rather than the latter.

Today Peta showed me a " YouTube" video of Ann Coulter being interviewed by the CBC. Coulter, for those who don't know, is an American, Republican "ultra right winger", media darling. She was infamous for saying that the widows of "9/11" were wallowing in self-pity, and that: " If we took away women's right to vote, we'd never have to worry about another Democrat president. It's kind of a pipe dream, it's a personal fantasy of mine, but I don't think it's going to happen."

Anyway, the video shows Coulter ranting on Fox TV that the USA should just "roll over on Canada". Then the video cuts to a CBC reporter asking Coulter what she meant by that comment. Coulter comes out swinging and says:"It's about when Canada was a friend of the United States...Like when we were in Vietnam, Canada sent troops to help us....". The reporter, hardly able to contain his laughter, says:" We didn't send troops to Vietnam". Coulter, non plussed, says : "Yes, you did..I'm sure of it". Again the reporter says: "No, we didn't...". Coulter, always the one to try and have the last word, replies: "Well , I'll have to check and get back to you on that". According to the CBC, Coulter has not responded to her obvious lack of education on the Vietnam war.

How can Fox TV or the Republicans endorse this woman?If this was a black woman or an Hispanic male that had made these stupid comments, the Republicans would be all over them. Or as my daughter Peta said: "Dad, even I could be a better political spokesperson than this woman...And I'm still in high school". Sad, but oh so true.

Bloor Street Sushi Reviews..

My middle daughter Bella dances every Saturday at the Bathurst Theatre in Toronto. Although it is time consuming for me to drive from rural Ontario into the "big city", I enjoy the "one on one" time with her. When her dance concludes at around 5 p.m., we walk into the Annex ( that's what the area of the city is called), and we usually have Japanese food for our dinner. Last night during dinner, Bella said: " Why don't you review this restaurant on your blog?". "Great idea" I said, so we've decided to review all the restaurants that we will be visiting after dance class. We usually have sushi, but we'll mix it up. So here goes:

Japan Sushi-482 Bloor Street W, Toronto:
Bella and I got there around 5:15. The weather was beautiful, but all the outside tables were taken, so we sat inside.

The service was prompt. Bella ordered the " Bento Box" with chicken. Knowing that she would not eat a full meal, I ordered the Sashimi appetizer plate.

Minutes later, the waitress brought us our miso soup and noodles. The soup was hot and aromatic. The noodles were firm, but tasty. ( I ended up eating Bella's).

Shortly afterward, the main course arrived. My sashimi was at the perfect temperature: Cool, but not too cold. The salmon was delicious.

Bella said her chicken was " really good". I picked at her vegetable tempura and found that the zucchini was great, but the carrot was a little raw for my liking. The accompanying sushi was the "California" type that my daughter likes. We both picked away at it, and both agreed that it was fresh and satisfying.

All in all, we enjoyed our time at Japan Sushi and would recommend it to anyone. With a Sprite and a glass of white wine, our bill came to $ 24.55

Rating-Out of 5 : 4.5
Child friendly: Yes

104.1 The Dock...

I live in rural Ontario, Canada. As with most other places in the world, most of our electronic media comes from the cities.Some of it is exceptional, some is passable, but most of it is pre-packaged. What I mean by that is, the announcers do not promote any sense of community, while playing music targeting the "dance" crowd. ( Seriously, how many times must a guy listen to "Poker Face"?)

Just a little over a year ago, our little town became home to "The Dock". It is an FM radio station broadcasting at104.1 on the FM dial. All I can say is : FINALLY someone has a grasp of what an rock station should sound like! The broadcasters talk about local community events while playing all the great music from the 70's, but with a bit of a twist. Unlike most stations that play the crap out of two or three favourite songs from a band, the Dock will play the whole side of an album, a "B" side or some obscure cut. What a great concept.

My favourite announcer is a woman named "Meg" who is part of the morning show team. You have to hear this chick's voice: It sounds like Rod Stewart when he was with "Faces", combined with one of the Power Puff Girls. It's absolutely infectious.

Anyway, for those of you who are reading this in some far off land, I'd encourage you to go on-line and tune in. If you simply put in "104.1 The Dock", you'll get there.For those of you who are north of Toronto, but south of North Bay, take a listen.You'll be pleasantly surprised.

The world's sexiest woman?

OK, I know it sounds a tad trite, and the title is cheesey. However, I have concluded one thing: Next to my wife, Arianna Huffington is the sexiest woman in the world.

I came home last night around 4:23 am ( Yes, even civil servants have their emergency situations at work) and flipped on the tube. There I saw Huffington speaking to a group of journalists about how the Democratic Party has let down the voters of American but letting the Republicans walk all over them. She was, in a word, captivating.

I just wish Obama would see that, and make this remarkable woman a member of her team.

Plus, she is a lot easier to listen to than Hilary Clinton.

The working Dad..

Nothing pisses me off more than those dorky TV ads that portray Dad as a bumbling boob. This type of yellow, stereotypical marketing does nothing but infuriate men and leaves an intelligent woman aghast.

As a working Dad, married to a working Mom ( who makes far more money than this civil servant), I am responsible for the cooking in the house.The reason is quite simple: My wife, as intelligent and witty as she is, can't par boil shit for a street dance. Ergo, I am left to do the cooking. I'm not complaining, it's just the way it is.

For all those working people out there who need to feed a family after a hard day of work, take my advice: Buy a crock pot. Forget all that "Julie-Julia"nonsense, be realistic and start being smart with your time. Julia Child never had any kids, her hubby was a diplomat, and she lived in France. That's three more things going for her than I have, so if any of her devout followers are offended, tough shit.

This is a really simple crock pot recipe that can feed your hungry hubby/wife/mistress/best friend. It's simple and most of all, kids love it.

You start with:

1 large package of chicken thighs ( 6 to 8 )
1 bottle of Diana's " BBQ Sauce" ( or any other sauce that is compatible with chicken: Hot and Tangy sauce, Sweet Sauce, etc...)
1 tin of Diet Pepsi (or any other cola)
3 dashes of olive oil
1 crock pot ( I have a small one...crock pot, that is)

Directions:

Heat your oven to 425 degrees far.
Place the chicken in a large baking pan ( I love the Laghostino myself).
Dash the chicken with olive oil. Make sure your cover all the chicken!
Let the chicken cook until golden brown. Turn over once or twice while cooking.

Once the chicken is cooked, remove from the pan and pat dry. Place the chicken in the bottom of the crock pot. Pour the tin of cola over the chicken. Once the foam settles, cover the chicken with the WHOLE bottle of Diana's sauce.

If you are cooking with a small crock pot, cook it on "LOW" for about 2 to 2.5 hours. If you like your chicken a little more crispy, cook it for about 3 hours.

My daughters ( except Peta, my oldest who is a vegetarian) love this dish.

It's time for working Dad's/Mom's/Mistresses to unite and prove that we can look after our families while still putting food on the table.

the 18% solution...

Being the consummate consumer, I ordered and received a "Marriot VISA" platinum card. I figured that I had a good paying job, so I could afford the 18% or so fee on the card. I was approved for $5000 in credit. North Africa, here I come!

I took my three daughters to Ottawa this weekend. I treated them to the " 5 star" treatment, the same way any indulgent parent would. I love my kids, so it's no big deal to me.

When I went to check out of the hotel, I was informed that my VISA card was not valid. I called the company, only to be told that my credit limit had been reduced to $3900 dollars, and that I had met my limit. I explained that I was paying more than the required limit and that I had never been late with a payment. The peon on the other side of the phone said: " Well, it has to do with a "blip" on your credit report that made us reduce it". When I enquired what the "blip" was, they said " We can't really discuss it".

My advice to everyone: Watch these swine who offer these cards. This type of unscrupulous behaviour is simply contemptible. Yes, I know that credit cards are high risk, but not to people who use them responsibly.

As Vincent Bugliosi said:" There ought to be a law".