Author Archives: Rob MacD

It’s “talk like a pirate day”, apparently. A day where we’re all supposed to speak like pirates.

I’m doing my part. However, the pirates that I choose to emulate speak better than your average avasting brigand. There’s no rule that says a bucanneer can’t have graduated from university with an English major and a modern appreciation for proper grammar.

In the previous post, those Columbos amongst you might have detected the reference to a broken fridge. Well, our well-respected appliance man told us that it’s not worth the money to keep the old girl frigid (insert nun joke here). It had been breaking down for the past number of months, then working again. This time, though, it doesn’t seem to want to work again. (insert EI joke here) Our man is sure of the problem (from a past visit) and said he could come and tell us in person, but he’d save us the service charge and just tell us over the phone: It’s time for a new fridge. Well, the thing is over 30 years old, I think, and it’s yellow (insert, I don’t know…racist ethnic joke here?). Time to go.
So, K, having the day off today, was gallavanting with her mother to various appliance stores. It’s now close to quitting time for me, and I have no idea of the results of their appliance quest.
In the “Isn’t this exciting, getting a new major appliance!” respect it’s kinda like Christmas. In the “Isn’t this expensive, getting a new major appliance!” respect, it’s kinda like…Christmas.

In an earlier post (if I was smarter, I’d figure out how to include a link to it), I challenged the Karoberon to go the whole month of September without bringing fast food into the house. Well, we upped that to ‘no fast food at all for a whole month’. That was just crazy, though, that claim, and we broke down twice so far, once going to Harveys and once to Wendys. Still though, this is much better than our usual habit. Still, we haven’t brought any fast food into the house.
Until last night.
But if there was ever a time to break down it was then… Let me explain: I got home from work vowing to cut the grass. I reheated a previously barbecued hamburger for CB. K was working until after 8pm, and would be dining on lobster supper. I had a choice: reheat two sausages and then cut the grass, or just go ahead and cut it, then eat. I chose to dive into grass cutting. Two hours later, totally wiped and sweaty and near death, I came into the house. The fridge was broken. That took away any desire for me to prepare myself a meal.
So, I cleaned up, waited a bit, then we went to pick up K. On the way, we passed by KFC. I knew then that on our return, I’d be stopping in and driving-thru. With heavy heart and shame from failure, I ordered the greasy chicken and took it home and ate it.
But today, we start again! No fast food in the house for the rest of the month!!

I just emailed the following to Peter at The Buzz, and thought I’d post it here as well:

Hi Peter, and all those associated with The Buzz.

I imagine that you’ve likely received some flak from people in regards to Michael Oliver’s “negative” review of The Twelfth Night in your latest edition.

I just wanted to let you know that I was so very happy to read this review. Not because of its content specifically regarding that production, but because of its honesty, criticism (both good and bad) and straightforwardness.

As someone who’s been involved in the PEI theatre scene for a number of years, I am well aware of our island’s unwritten rule of ‘flattering reviews only, please’, and have been the recipient of my fair share. And however nice it is to read such kind words, it somehow begins to ring false or less genuine. They are akin to the mandatory standing ovation at the end of all productions at the Confederation Centre. They become meaningless. And while nobody involved in a production likes to read reviews that are critical of the production, or of their performance in the same, critical reviews are nonetheless valuable in that they can help us (performers and audience) from accepting complacency. Reviews that are only positive and, seemingly, written by friends or associates of the production, give us all something of a The Emperor Has No Clothes syndrome.

So, again, thanks for publishing the refreshing review.

CB is 9, almost 10. I’m at the point now where I’m having some difficulty in choosing movies to watch with him. He’s at an age now where ‘kids’ movies are getting blase, and he’s more often interested in more grown-up films, but I’m not really sure what he should be watching. For instance, I’ve been on a horror/thriller/suspense kick lately and I don’t know what movies are appropriate for him to see. Just as a ‘for instance’, Is “Halloween” going to scare him – overly -, I wonder. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen it, so I can’t recall specifics of scenes, only the general mood. He’s probably ready for “Jaws”. I’m pretty certain that The Exorcist is too intense for him now. I have no idea how he’d react to something like Evil Dead 2.
I don’t worry about him getting scared (that’s the point of such movies), or seeing boobies and such (those are also the points of such movies). In fact, I don’t have near the problem in having him see sexual scenarios (to a point, of course) as I do having him see horrific images or scenes. I don’t want to rush him into movies I want him to see, only to have him start having sleepless nights and such.
On a related note, my favourite movie is “Lonesome Dove”. I own the DVD and watch it at least once a year. I just recently watched it with CB, his first viewing. He really enjoyed it. He was somewhat confused as to what a whore is, and why would someone want to ask one for a poke. He didn’t seem too impressed with my explanation.

Check this out. I love the live-matrix effects.

Six feet high and rising

Listen to “Folsum Prison Blues” (or “San Quentin”) and “Cry Cry Cry” and “Delia’s Gone” and “Sam Hall” and to your own favourites

Watch the video for “Hurt”

Feel good

The most common topic of the day is September 11, 2001. There are those who choose to commemorate it in large size, those who choose private reflection, and those who have become somewhat jaded about the whole thing.

Me, I choose to turn down the noise of the world, and listen to Bruce Springsteen’s “My City of Ruins” once and let that be that.

Peace. Even if it sounds corny.

I don’t trust dentists. For no particularly valid reason, I place dentists below mechanics when it comes to expecting that they’re fleecing the customer with seemingly unnecessary expenditures. Preventative medicine I believe in, but don’t necessarily follow. Preventative dentistry, however, I see as the dentist’s cash-cow and I stubbornly refuse to fall prey to their serious-sounding predictions of potential gloomy-gums and dental-disasters years down the road. I also refuse to follow, like cattle, their demands of yearly check-ups. I think that once every couple of years is probably enough.

I say this, not because of any recent or upcoming visit to the dentist. Only because I have a tooth that, lately, is sensitive to temperature changes.

Don’t trust these teeth-pirates!!

On the corner of Queen and Water is a sign that says “Take a walk down Water Street” and it points in the direction of Great George.

Shouldn’t it say “Take a walk up Water Street”?

Now, I haven’t studied this to the point that perhaps I should have, but in a purely geographical sense, one would be walking *up* the street if one were to follow the pointing-arrow advice of the sign. However (and this is the part of the study in which I am perhaps failing), I wonder if the house-numbering in that direction goes in a downward direction, and therefore “Take a walk down Water Street” would be correct enough.

One thing I do know – I won’t sleep tonight.