This jumps around a bit. You have been warned.
Nice to see the Raptors stink up the joint for a couple weeks
after a reasonably inspired opening night effort. My talent for
prediction appears to be right about where it usually is. No wonder Tel
Aviv’s team beat them in the preseason- I should have paid attention
when they said it was their first win against an NBA team in 20-odd
Has Rob Babcock been fired yet?
At least the Flames are still awesome.
So they were playing Christmas music at work yesterday, interspersed
with the usual elevator pop-rock that the Safeway Radio Network favors.
I imagine the ratio will favor the butchering of Christmas classics
soon enough (I did hear the worst rendition of “Home for the Holidays”
I’ve ever heard, and that’s saying something, given how many different
versions I’ve been through while working there), but they seem to have
put some thought into the process this year. Either that, or they got
I’m told they absolutely butchered an attempt at a moment of silence at
11 am on Remembrance Day (I had the day off, so this is second-hand)
when they could turn off the music, but not the constant commercials.
Thus, the silence was constantly interrupted by a cheerful voice
asking, “Do you use sugar? Say Splenda!…”, among the other
watered-down, irritating advertising we repeat day after day after day.
Having been related this story, my lack of faith was restored.
Still hoping to hear something from Barenaked Ladies’ “Barenaked for
the Holidays” at work at some point, but I’m not holding my
breath. Their version of ‘Jingle Bells’ probably wouldn’t pass
I’ve lost count of how much unintentional overtime I’ve logged since
the inception of the hand scanner, but it seems to have come down over
the last few weeks, which is dissapointing. I was looking forward to
seeing that vein on my manager’s head explode in a mass of… goo.
Actually, I guess that wouldn’t be good at all. It’d be messy, and
such. To quote House: “Clean up on Aisle 3!” (best… commercial…
Time for some self-analysis, if just because this has been bouncing around in my head of late. Let’s put it out there.
Mom was here for a visit a few weeks, and somehow, we got into a
conversation about my own social skills (or, in my thinking, lack
thereof). I mentioned that I thought myself something of an introvert,
and she disagreed. I was somewhat startled to hear that. Listening to
her reasoning, I thought it sound- she thought I handled myself well
socially, and carry a conversation well (I disagree on this point- I
think I compliment a conversation well, but can’t carry one with a
bucket). And maybe she’s right, on some levels.
“So how are things?” you’d ask. And, almost by instinct, my response
would be, “Fine,” “Good, good,” or “can’t complain.” I think we all do
that, not necessarily wanting to burden the other converser with our
problems during what might just be polite small talk.
We had our small group reunion a couple of Sundays ago, and I think I
irked some people when I announced that I hated country music. Most
interested parties insisted that I’d come around eventually, a point
which I contested quite insistently. I think it’s the city, and the
occasionally irritating Western atmosphere it forces on us.
My tastes have managed to swing across the rock spectrum (light when I
was really young, heavier in the teenage years, and now a little more
moderate in the 20s, appreciating some of both ends), but that’s been
about it. Most other genres have always been outside my consideration,
save for a few exceptions.
Apparently, the Eagles,
a group I’ve come to appreciate more in the last few years, have been
classified as country music in some corners, and I can see how a few of
their tunes could pass merit in that genre (“Tequila Sunrise” and “Best
of My Love” come immediately to mind). But when we had a radio in the
produce backroom, and it was on Country 105, I felt nothing but pain.
Searing, unwelcome, unimaginable pain. Know this, all you who seek to
turn me to the Dark Side. I will not relent! Petra forever! Long live
Bob Hartman (a nod to Ryan, who thought that last line up first)!
Speaking of which, you know what this city needs (in a Perfect World,
as the aforementioned Hartman would say)? A real Christian rock
station. Sorry, Shine, but your elevator music does not inspire me.
ZJAM is nice, but 2 hours on Saturday night doth not a regular listener
I’m pretty sure I butchered some grammar with that last sentence. And that one.
Yeah, it’s long. So sue me. I type 60 or more words a minute, so
rambling comes easy to me. And I wanted to reward you for your patience
during my drought. Feel rewarded, people. Nay- feel PRIVELEGED.