I Hate to Jinx Things

But topical Benedryl is kicking the ass of my chin itch. Oh, you didn’t know my chin itch had an ass? Yes indeed. A fat, itchy ass. Currently being kicked by the magical Benedryl cream that will probably give me cancer so I’m not even googling it. Don’t care. It was on sale 2 months ago at Shoppers and now it’s on my face.

And the sun is risen! It rose at 4:30 am or something. I don’t know. I was overnighting at my volunteer job and the sun came up. And the other volunteer said, That’s Just Wrong but I disagreed silently. It is so right to watch the sun come up over all the distressed people who are finally asleep. A new day for everybody.

Posted in my itchiness, outside | 2 Comments

Yes, I am Shallow and Mean

But sir, your t-shirt’s message, “Hot as Fuck,” is greatly diminished by the pendulous man-boobs that bracket it.

Goddessa does not quite smite you. But if she sees you again in that shirt, damn, you will done be smote.

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Poverty

I’m confused. How, exactly, is a giant rock show, even one that’s held all over the world and broadcast to 3 billion people, meant to influence the decisions of the G8? Do the world’s political leaders go to musicians for advice? Should they start? If so, as a motivating tool, wouldn’t it be more influential for the world’s musicians to NOT perform so that the world’s music-lovers would become indignant and protest rather than enjoying their “free” performance (Canada’s show had a $1 million budget – paid for by corporations & broadcasting fees) and then going home to watch it on TV to see if they can find themselves?

It has been emphasized that Live8 was not a fundraiser; it was meant to be an awareness-raiser. With whom should this awareness be raised? I’m pretty sure the people who can do something about this issue are already aware of it (see: World’s Leaders, paragraph a.) There may be a few people left in North America and Europe who don’t know that the majority of the world lives in poverty but if they haven’t realized it by now, they probably won’t turn around tomorrow and become passionate crusaders for debt relief.

Live Aid hit home 20 years ago in part because people honestly didn’t know that African people were starving to death. They watched the scenes on TV and watched Queen perform and got out their wallets and gave to a cause. This new cause, forgiving world debt, is so intangible, so out of our control. It has no donation box. We can’t give of our bank accounts; we have to give of our consciences, which is a far more difficult thing. If you admit that you care, there’s no going back.

Bob Geldof is encouraging us all to become activists, which is a noble gesture but, my realistic/cynical side assures me, a useless one. Witness the photos of the rubbish left behind on the ground at the Live8 show for physical evidence of People Not Getting It. I imagine SUVs full of laughing kids driving past homeless people and working poor on their way to the show; spending $8 a beer for Molson products; enjoying their right to Rock In the Free World; heading home to their beds to sleep soundly. If you start to actually think about the world’s poor; how they got that way and how they stay that way, you are on a very slanty slope towards being unable to live your life the way you used to: without guilt.

Maybe I believe the worst about people where Geldof chooses to believe the best. (Oh, probably.) And it takes time for people to become activists. And every little bit of awareness helps the greater cause. But I nearly lost it when I read in the same article referenced above that an anti-poverty organization was handing out the “universal anti-poverty accessory” white wristband. Aside from the wording, which is the Globe and Mail’s fault, hey, Way to make the cause transient. Yoo hoo, geniuses? Take the money you spent on manufacturing those rubber bracelets and do something useful with it.

I have never seen the point of symbols – ribbons, bracelets, pins. That’s a different discussion altogether.

I think it is too easy to drop responsibility into the laps of government (in whom I have no faith and for whom I have little respect, true) and then brush your hands off and look at your bracelet every day and wish things were different. How about if those musicians who donated their time also donated their lives; gave up their limos and personal trainers and mansions in the hills. They could probably sponsor an entire African village for 10 years. I know – fundraising is not the point. Awareness. Rallying together. Etc.

Maybe in a couple of days when the G8 releases a statement that says something like, “Bob Geldof has shamed us into doing the right thing,” I will eat this post. I would be OK with that.

Posted in music, outside, serious | 3 Comments

Surprise! Etc.

Hellow! Well, I sure didn’t expect to read this editorial in the Abbotsford Times. Colour me abashed. (I think that’s a baby-blue shade.)

Today 2 of my best friends, the most adorable baby in the world and the most lovely Pat The Mum in the whole universe began a drive east that will not end for days and and will not bring them back my way for a long-ass time. (Unless they forgot something important, but I doubt this as I watched most everything they didn’t pack or ship get thrown away) To console myself, today I have napped, eaten popcorn made with my newly-retrieved Popcorn Pumper, (how I have missed thee, PP!) read most of The Diviners (which I started at the beginning of June) and purchased Idahoan Potatoes (in a box) for dinner.

Well, there will also be some flank steak wrapped around spinach and mozzarella and some garlic bread. Because carbs are not the enemy; they are the FUTURE!

But boxed Idahoan Potatoes! With the margarine and the milk and the boiling water and that packaged sour cream and chives smell. Reminds me and SA of our broke years when instant potatoes were not a sidedish, but a main course. (he ate his with hamburger relish. I usually chose hot sauce.) Of course: with extra cheese is always better.

Witnessed yesterday: a man in a cowboy hat, backing his mini-van into oncoming,(one-way street) rush-hour, long-weekend traffic so that he could parallel park in a spot about a block away. Dude! Go around the block!

Speaking of fuckwits, what’s with the people riding their bicycles the wrong way down one-way streets? If you want to play “riding on the road with other modes of transportation,” and be all “respect! 2 wheels good!” you should have to follow the rules. If it was me with my flipflops and tweed blazer on my 10-speed bicycle with my hair blowing in the breeze because helmets are an attempt to repress my self-expression versus the Escalade-piloting, matcha-tea-sipping, Bluetooth-gabbing, Botoxy-hottie who just turned around whilst driving to check that her mini-shitzy-poo has enough champagne in his bowl, I would suck it up for a bit and ride the same direction as everyone else.

And that. Is all.

Posted in outside, serious | 1 Comment

BEAVERS BEAVERS BEAVERS! SHARING SHARING SHARING!

This list of fun stuff you can do, it just seems wrong to me somehow. But maybe that’s because I’ve never been a Beaver.

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