Tuesday, April 22, 2008

My new favourite song of the week...

Go here where you can see this and another video. A shout-out of thanks to Mike who knows very cool people and tends to share!

Coming of Age

The days are gone for the walkin’ away
The sun sets fast at the end of the day
Everyone I know is still runnin’ around
Try to outrun the runnin’ ‘fore it takes ‘em down

They all came from some place that I never knew
A house with a window and a room with a view
But where I came from is where I had to leave
Who I was and what I had to believe

I remember those times when the evening’d fade
We’d take off our shoes and the plans we’d made
Think about someone I might find
Some kind of cure for this kind of blind

Some kind of woman who could help me see
Some kind of child to help me start to believe
’cause I thought I’d be fine in the driving rain
But these thoughts are just bickering around my brain

I said I found myself somewhere on the way
But I couldn’t even point you to that day
Seems I never quite know just where I’ll land
Keep pleading for the people to understand

’cause if you can understand, maybe I could change
And I could loose myself from feelin’ strange
But right now I’m wonder if that’d be true
Waiting for deliverance to come from you

The roads we travel have gotten rough
With the bumps and turns and all that broken stuff
Sewage was seeping up from underground
And I can’t help but feel just a little bound

To this life I choose, to this life I know
Each darkened corner, little lights aglow
And I reckon it’s time for you to call my bluff
Try to pinch this skin that’s gotten tough


And in the evenings I wonder if I made a mess
Something bigger than a man could ever accept
Can’t be the person that I wanted to be
But I never was just okay with me

SeemsI never really felt all that at ease
With who I am or what I chose to believe
But I made this life which lives in me
Still I don’t seem to be the one to set me free

Now the days are gone for the lookin’ around
Now I just keep eyes to the ground
With a little bit of hope that things could change
Though I’m still not sure what to rearrange

Cause it hides in my pocket, refuses to be seen
This glimmer of all I hope and dream
So I’ll pray to God that I’m livin’ right
And know that nothin’ good ever comes without a fight

No other news...

After having been out of the States for awhile, I have returned to be taken aback by our new obsession with round-the-clock news that has been mixed with a reality-TV-voyeurism and a Facebook narcissism that results in what can only be described as journarcivoyerism [pronounced: jour-nar-si-voy-yer-ism].

And by that I mean this....the news is no longer something we watch to become informed. We watch it to delve into other people's lives. We watch it out of morbid curiousity. We watch it because we need someone to give us our opinions so that we sound smarter than we actually are.

The most recent example of this was, obviously, the Pope. The Pope. 24/7. Really. Is that news? Now, don't get me wrong. I like the Pope. I'm glad that his comings and goings made the news and that we were interested in what he had to say, and when, and where, and to whom. But, do I need to know his thoughts, the cardinals' thoughts, the commentators' thoughts, the thoughts of those in the audience on whether he had a happy childhood? No! Seriously, people. We have a problem!

Now, lest I be accused of being anti-Papal (please remember who was recently on Vatican radio) I have to say that I would rather watch the Pope than Brittany Spears, Paris Hilton, Martha Stewart, or OJ Simpson but that is not the point. The point is this: there are other FAR more newsworthy things going on in the world you never heard about because the Pope gave a mass in Yankee Stadium, or Brittany drove drunk down Hollywood Blvd, or whatever. Like what, you ask?

Like Zimbabwe on the cusp of civil war; like the thousands killed in one week alone in the forgotten conflicts of Congo, Uganda, Somalia, Cote d'Ivoire, Columbia, Sri Lanka, and Chechnya; like China's brutal 're-education' proposition for school children in Tibet; like cholera in Soweto.

For instance.

I'm not saying let's not watch the Pope. I am saying please, SOMEONE, put news back in it's rightful place as 'information' and then let me get on with the rest of my day! Now that's something I'd pay for. A news channel that reported stories, different stories, relevant stories 24 hours a day without repeating a single one. And, never mentioning anyone who lives in Los Angeles. Nor the San Fernando valley. Nor, parts of New York. Is that too much to ask?

P.S. The first person who writes in to say that 'that's what BBC does' will never hear from me EVER again.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

He might be dead...

For those of you following the mouse saga: I haven't seen, nor heard, him today. Dare I hope?

Thursday, April 10, 2008

He's still alive...

Incidentally. One day later I am watching him climb in and out, in and out of the box of poison having a little munch here and there. Actually, it has been more like brunch, a mid-morning snack, 11-sies, afternoon tea, a small appetizer, an after-dinner nibble, and a midnight snack. Remind me never to buy stock in rat poison companies.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008


I am typing this very, very slowly and quietly. Mostly because I am watching a mouse die. It doesn't know it's dying yet. It's been running around on the kitchen countertop and stove for the past half an hour with flagrant disregard for the deal that was struck in time immemorial between humans and 'pests'. That is, they walk all over our plates, cutlery, and food at night and don't leave evidence of their existence and we don't kill them. Once they start leaving droppings or coming out in daylight it's a no-hold-barred-free-for-all on their extermination. Sorry, little friends. Them's the rules. I don't make them up. I simply enforce them.

So, while I was sitting here in the kitchen (at 10pm but with the lights on) a mouse decided to run across the counter. A cute little brown mouse. I could forgive that. I mean, maybe he was late getting home to his little mouse family across the house. Maybe he doesn't live here and is just on a layover. I can sympathise with that. But then he ran across again. And then again. And then he went out on the stovetop and climbed up on the teapot. He sniffed around a little and then sat up on his haunches and looked at me like he was daring Cuba to make a move.

Wrong move little friend. I promptly found a small container of rat poison under the sink, opened it up and put it on the counter. He wandered around. He continued dancing on the teapot. I was torn for a few moments about whether I should be willing him toward the container or away from it. But, the behaviour is, frankly, flagrant. What if other mice follow his example? We would have chaos. We would have - well, the movie Ratatouille and who wants that?

After about 5 minutes he found it and was so delighted that he has jumped into the box and is munching away on the deadly pellets. I suppose I should feel bad but frankly I'm just relieved that the death warrant has been sealed and I have nothing more to do....except scrub down that teapot with bleach.