The Phantom Menace

I've got this pair of boots that I'm quite fond of. They are a quality make, and originally priced at $175. That price point is a little rich for my blood, so I got them on sale for about half that.

Then, about six months of delightfully walking around in my fantastic boots, the stinkin' heel came off the left one. As a result, I sounded like a tap-dancing fool everytime I'd walk on pavement or ceramic floors.  What made it even more embarrasing was the fact that it was only the one boot that made the noise. And, the heel missing meant that I was, in effect, an inch or so shorter on the left side which over time certainly would have made me a Quasi Modo of some sort. 

After some degree of procrastination, I decided that I should have the heel repaired. Of course, the decision to have it repaired and actually repairing it are two different things. So, two months later, after walking around as a lopsided clickety clackin' motherfucker, I finally got it fixed. But now, everytime I put on my boots and walk around, in my mind I still sort of feel like I'm missing that heel and sometimes over compensate for it when walking. It's sort of like the reverse of when a guy has gotten his arm cut off. For years he still feels like it's there, and this phenomenon is often referred to as having a phantom arm.

So what I'm saying is that if you've had a limb cut off, I know exactly how you feel.

To Hell in a Handbasket

Only white people were nominated for acting Oscars, Joseph Fiennes is going to play Michael Jackson in an upcoming movie, and now Sting is the halftime singer at the NBA All Star game.

Just what the hell is going on exactly?

The Grass Is Whiter On The Other Side

Well, us crackers lie on beaches to get dark, so I guess this makes sense...

Anyone Can DJ

In association with Girth Radio, be sure to join us at Pacific Junction Hotel (King and Sherbourne, Toronto) Mondays for our weekly open DJ night, where local creative folks with our without any technical skill play whatever the fuck they want.

Because that's exactly the point.

Tonight I'll take a break from spinning as we have a new DJ coming in, but I'll be streaming live video from the DJ booth through Periscope, so download the app, look up Hobo Gauntlet and tune in just after 7pm.

We'll spin one for Ziggy Stardust as well...

Progress

The Gaping Maw

Around this time of year, the songs and the spirit of the season encourage us to strive towards peace on earth and goodwill towards all who we share this planet with - the exception of course being turkeys. It comes with a massive degree of irony then that Christmas often brings out the worst in us. In malls, on the roads and on the streets, folks are stressed and fuses are short.

It all seems to begin with the so-called Black Friday sales. People in the US lose their shit as they step on each other's throats to save fifty bucks on a TV, and this is now creeping into Canada, although the antics here are tame by comparison.

Some people on this planet have to walk thirty
miles to get clean drinking water.  

Earlier this month my wife and I were on vacation at a Caribbean resort. As an all inclusive you can eat and drink as much as you desire and a lot of people take that designation quite literally. It appears that some feel short-changed if they don't take advantage of every possible thing offered, even if they normally wouldn't. At the breakfast buffet I saw folks gorging on chicken fajitas, which of course is the first type of food that comes to my mind at 8 in the morning. And everyday around 11 you'd see people walking around drinking some kind of rum concoction in giant coconuts, which apparently were prepared on the beach each morning. What was interesting was the sheer despair on the faces of people who missed out on getting their very own coconuts because the guy on the beach only had a limited amount. Several people were genuinely upset, with their sense of calm only returning when they finally got one the next day. (aka..give baby the tit)

The other day I saw someone put out a giant bowl of food for a dog, which the dog greedily hoovered in about nineteen seconds. Perhaps I'm over reacting, but this reminded me of the human condition. Whether it's global warming or world war 3, it's no secret that if we don't all slow the hell down and show a little discipline with our unquenchable consumption of all things, we may very well exit this planet sooner rather than later. Don't want to be a Debbie Downer (cuz I am not one) but i'm just sayin' is all...just slow down a bit & ease off on the maniacal quest to consume everything, immediately...I'm guessing you might a slightly longer life.. 

Radio Killed The Video Star

I find it fascinating just how wrong not only people can be, but an entire industry.

MTV smugly declared itself the new bad ass in town circa 1982 when it launched in the US with The Buggles' one hit wonder, Video Killed The Radio Star.  It suggested of course that video would crush radio's proverbial head and push out it's eyes with it's thumbs, sort of like that scene with the Mountain in Game of Thrones. 

MTV nowadays is just horrifyingly bad reality tv, and the once hip and thriving MuchMusic in Canada has been reduced to two aging technicians who punch things into a computer for an unending sequence of videos on a few linear channels watched by absolutely nobody, mostly still in operation so Bell won't lose their broadcast license.

On the other hand, terrestrial radio seems, in some ways anyway, stronger than ever. I've personally never subscribed to satellite services like Sirius, but I imagine some do as it's still alive. Spotify and other streaming audio services are ok, and I do have a subscription to the latter only because it came as part of my package with Rogers. I listen sometimes, but what it doesn't have is the live, local content, and radio personalities that help bring the music or the news to life so to speak. Don't get me wrong, I find inane morning show banter difficult to listen to, but there's still something immediate about good 'ol fashioned radio.

Bill Johnson, president of NBC

The conventional television model born in the 1950's is obviously dead. Newsrooms and local tv stations have been gutted and that trend will continue. Large North American TV networks and distribution channels have become bloated with their monopolies over the decades, resulting in unwatchable programming. Top shelf content is being produced and broadcast on network and distribution alternatives. With the advent of technology and consumer demand for choice, cable and satellite based companies operating only with the old models are simply a relic of the past.

It's frightening then just how wrong the so called best minds can be about any particular industry. Although urban legend states that it was Bill Gates who is on record for the quote below, the zillionaire nerd never actually said it. It was apparently uttered by some other computer executive in the 80's about the future of computers, so it's an interesting lesson nonetheless:

"640K ought to be enough for anyone"

Indifference

Mexico's Most Wanted

In 3 weeks I'm heading to a lovely resort nestled somewhere between Cancun and Playa Del Carmen, and it seems my chances of slithering off this mortal coil during that time have increased exponentially this week.

If it isn't the Cartels jacking you at roadblocks, hepatitis from the ice cubes, malaria from the mosquitoes or low level thugs masquerading as cops, Mexico's newest and most notorious cold-blooded killer, is the dreaded hot tub.

In the immortal words of The Northern Pikes,
she ain't pretty she just looks that way.

Two Canadian tourists in Mexico seemed to have been electrocuted in one this past week, so I'll steer quite clear of the jacuzzi as I saunter by holding my obnoxious 39 ounce bubba keg filled to the god damn brim with all inclusive top-shelf scotch. Worse is that there tends to be a number of these lucrative looking tubs inconspicuously dotted around the resort grounds, so when I'm greasily shifting around in an attempt to work off the nineteen plates of barbecue ribs, eleven butter drenched lobster tails and four bowls of whip-cream topped chocolate ice cream, I'll need to be on high alert at all times...the second I get cut eye from just one, ahma gonna go all Dolph Lundgren up in that.

Indeed, it seems like the most pleasant things in life are what can creep up and kill ya...

Snakes, Trains and Automobiles

I shit you not. It's the sequel to the infamous Samuel L Jackson film, and it'll be a mashup of that movie's genre and the classic comedy with John Candy and Steve Martin, with a dash of the late John Hughes.

Google that shit.