Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor
Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.
Jimminy crickets I hate telephones. My new $300 Nextel has decided it doesn’t want to hold a charge today so if you call to wish me a Happy New Years, please leave a message – and same to you. It’s going to be a very good year.
When I was 33… it was a very good year. It was a very good year for Yonge Street girls who lived up the stairs. With all that perfumed hair. And I had a restraining order against me. When I was 33.
How did you spend your Friday night? I am coaching little Griffin through the latest PS2 game I rented for her from Gamefly. You have to do little dances with Barbie to collect gems to help a kitten rescue a princess. It’s not so terrible actually. I’ll try to explain.
When I worked in England, there was a German guy who came in every Thursday night and drank baby mixers of Canada Dry. Since non-drinkers in England stick out like sore thumbs, I once asked why he was so fond of the ginger ale. His answer went something like this: “The amount you can party or go crazy in one lifetime is like a candle wick. Some people burn through theirs quicker than others, and I am all done.” If I were to apply that analogy to my own life, the flame would have spread to the curtains and burnt down the entire house, ages ago.
I don’t think it’s unusual for maturity to be a sudden and conscious, black and white decision – and not necessarily a gradual progression. If I were married, had a mortgage or my own children I’d have mellowed out years ago, naturally. My personal development is synthetic and born of necessity. And I like it.
Appetizer: How do you usually celebrate on New Year’s Eve?
It’s usually alcohol-driven and breathtakingly unremarkable. My favorite was probably watching fireworks in Sydney harbor in 1996. I think the key is doing something you don’t normally do every weekend. Getting juiced in a friend’s apartment is just an insult to Baby New Year. Base jump off the Prudential or something.
Soup: Name one thing unexpected that happened to you in 2006.
I promised I’d never tell. I will substitute “decided to move to Toronto” for the real answer.
Salad: Where was your favorite place that you visited in 2006?
I went North a lot. About 8 times at final count. A full, permanent transition to Toronto is slated for Feb/March, and I suppose the best answer I can give is “Canada”. I just got off a plane from Toronto and can’t wait to get back. JV and I spent the day driving around the city scouting neighborhoods.
Main Course: What resolution is your top priority for 2007?
Taking good care of my poor, aging body – and more importantly learning to moderate the nasty things I put into it. Except maybe for the rubber marital aids.
Dessert: Using just three words, describe 2006.
Enough is enough.
Appetizer: What is one of your Christmas traditions?
Mimosas on Christmas morning. I will not be participating in that particular tradition this year. I just got to my Grandmother’s place near Toronto after a night in the city Friday with Janet and the best buddy crew, and I did it all powered on club soda. Antibiotics for only 4 more days, but my soda kick is going to be extended indefinitely.
Soup: Who is the easiest person on your list to buy presents for?
My sister. Because she tells me in no uncertain terms what she’s getting.
Salad: What is your favorite Christmas scent?
My Aunt Rosemary’s cooking. Be it ham or turkey. The woman also makes the most amazing carmel popcorn I’ve ever tasted, and she hasn’t seemed to notice I’m 33 as I still get a big bag of it every year.
Main Course: If you could give a fellow blogger a gift, what would it be and who?
I don’t read many blogs for fun anymore. Between writing my own, and reading all the seo blogs I have to daily to keep my saw sharp, it’s an increasingly short list. I suppose I would give Duck a job she enjoyed more.
Dessert: What’s something on your Christmas wish list this year that you need (not want)?
I asked my parents for a suit bag – is that the proper term? A piece of luggage made especially for transporting your suit. I don’t need it. Similarly I didn’t ask for food, water or heat this year. But I’m tired of showing up to weddings looking like Columbo.
