Am I missing something here?

I just checked my e-mail inbox, and my spam folder had no fewer than 67 (!) messages in it since yesterday. That's frightening enough... but all of them - yes, all of them - were advertising Viagra.

Is someone trying to tell me something?

Is Mark Starowicz a Prophet?

Okay, first off, for those of you who weren't paying attention, Mark Starowicz is regarded as one of the deans of serious TV documentaries in Canada.

In a recent Doug Saunders article about the current state of the media universe, Starowicz opined:

When linear time no longer governs the airwaves, it puts an end to the shared national experience. People no longer have anything in common with each other.

Now that's some elegant language. What he's referring to is the fact that video recording technology and online video streaming have made program scheduling largely irrelevant. People no longer build their lives around television program schedules; they can watch their favorite shows whenever it's convenient for them. Television no longer helps maintain the family construct; families don't sit together to watch Being Erica like they used to watch Don Messer's Jubilee.

[For what it's worth, I would argue that although TV may no longer be the Great Facilitator of family cohesion, it does serve a similar purpose within broader societal groups. I have plenty of friends and colleagues with whom I share regular discussions and debates about our communal TV-watching experiences. Shows like Mad Men or Dexter or the multiple shades of CSI have infiltrated the zeitgeist as much, or more, than I Love Lucy or The Honeymooners or Ed Sullivan ever did.]

But let's leave that debate to one side for the moment. I have to admit that when I first saw the Starowicz quote, the very first thing that I thought about was the last time I heard the words "linear time" used on television. That's right: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.

I've always thought that Mark Starowicz was a little bit more intense than the average human being. Now it all makes sense! He's a Prophet! or a wormhole alien, if you prefer. Maybe that's why - according to rumour, anyway - they used to let him smoke in his office.

As another Star Trek character would say: fascinating.

Yikes...

Good news: the Conservative candidate in the Calgary-Glenmore byelection gets beaten like the proverbial rented mule. Premier Ed Stelmach's leadership - or lack thereof - is cited as one of the principal issues leading to the defeat.

Bad news: the candidate who wins the byelection is from the Wildrose Alliance, which is to the Alberta Conservatives what the Reform Party was to the federal PCs, lo these many years ago.

Only in Alberta will you find a rightist government being taken to task for not being far enough to the right. It is to weep.

Am I being petty?

I'm a little embarrassed to be writing this, but I can't get the thought out of my head...

The news wires are reporting that PM Harper is appointing former NHL coach Jacques Demers to the Senate.

Demers admitted in 2005 that he was illiterate. Since that time, he has been learning to read, but he is still unable to read or write at his grade level, so to speak. In spite of all his good qualities, Demers is not the guy I want to be reading legislation with a view to "sober second thought".

Maybe he misunderstood the job offer. Maybe he received a call from someone in Ottawa saying "Hey, Jacques, how about a job with the Senators?"

To paraphrase Winston Churchill, we have the worst form of government, except for all the others that have been tried from time to time. If this is Harper's idea of Senate reform, count me out.

Death wish

Wow, two blog posts in a day...

I'm sorry I didn't have a camera with me so i could record the moment for posterity. I was walking home from the grocery store yesterday when I saw a person who has obviously decided to shuffle off his mortal coil as soon as he possibly can.

Here's what this Darwin Award wannabe was doing: he was 1) riding a bicycle without a helmet 2) down the middle of the street 3) hands off the handlebars 4) talking animatedly on his cellphone 5) while running a red light.

Full marks for gumption. I hope his karmic balance is on the positive side, 'cause something tells me that this guy's a street pizza just waiting to happen. Sheesh.

University as career factory?

I read an interesting post the other day on Howard Bernstein's excellent blog, Medium Close Up. I agree with some of his points but I think he's fallen into a bit of a logic trap. Like many people, he believes that if one studies something in university, they should and must go on to a career in that area.

The concept isn't completely without merit. After all, very few people would study veterinary medicine if they didn't want to go on to a career as a vet. The number of available spots in vet. med. faculties is extremely small, and graduates of a vet. med. program tend to find good, stable employment. Bully for them.

I don't think, though,that you can use the same argument for those who study journalism. Bernstein writes: "If we opened more places in the schools – and we do seem to do this all the time – we would fill them instantly. But does anyone tell these kids there are no jobs for them? I have never seen it. Worse, the schools continue to accept these students knowing there are no jobs. It is morally wrong."

With respect, it's not morally wrong, and the argument is specious. If one were to accept Bernstein's viewpoint uncritically, it would be "morally wrong" for universities to accept students in any number of fields of study. How many history majors end up as professional historians? What proportion of math majors end up making a living doing math? What about anthropology? religious studies? comparative literature? Surely Bernstein can't be arguing that these fields of study aren't worthy, or that enrolment in these areas should be severely restricted.

Even the (Canadian) college system, which is much more geared toward career preparation than knowledge for knowledge's sake, has come to the realization that sometimes - just sometimes - people study something because they're interested in it. The line of demarcation between colleges and universities is dissolving as (some) universities are developing more of a market focus, and (some) colleges are increasing the breadth of their course offerings to allow students to enjoy the intellectual challenges of learning, rather than just stuffing knowledge into their brains with the goal of hopefully building a meaningful career.

Another thing that's developed over the past number of years is that the entire concept of "career" has changed. I'm now in my third career - maybe even my fourth, depending on how you count 'em. Each was a perfectly valid career path, and each career has helped lay the foundation for the succeeding ones. Many of my friends and colleagues have had similar experiences.

Coming back to the journalism-specific issue that Bernstein raises in his blog post, I'm a proponent of the j-school-as-a-professional-program model. In other words, I think that by requiring a person to develop their critical thinking skills - and a little real-world knowledge - before they enter a journalism program, one is likely to come out with a better "product". As an old boss of mine used to say, it's easier to take someone with some life experience and teach him what he needs to become a successful journalist than it is to take someone fresh out of j-school and teach him how to be a real person. In the interest of full disclosure, I should point out that I'm probably partial to that point of view since that was the rationale he used when he hired me as a reporter.

There. I'm glad I got that off my chest. As always, your mileage may vary.

Context is everything

Anyone who's known me for any length of time knows that I think context is essential. It's impossible to properly understand the meaning or import of anything that's said or written without understanding the context in which the utterance is, well, uttered. Not knowing the context often paves the way to misunderstandings. Sometimes those misunderstandings are tiny, sometimes they're huge, and sometimes they're just hilarious.

To wit: I was looking up a few articles online to get more info on the numerous ethics complaints that have been filed against Sarah Palin over the past months. Predictably, the chattering classes and the blogosphere are all atwitter over the bona fides of the accusations and what she should do, or should have done, about them. (Just as an aside, now that "twitter" has taken on an entirely new and somewhat different meaning, are we going to have to redefine "atwitter"? I'm just sayin'...)

Anyhoo, I stumbled across a recent column by Timothy Shriver in the Washington Post that caught my attention. At least the first paragraph of it did. I quote:

Amid all the babble about Sarah Palin's recent resignation as Alaska's governor and amid all the speculation about her potential presidential bid, few have noted a new job for which she is eminently qualified: civil rights leader for people with intellectual disabilities.

If I'd been drinking coffee I would have done a spit-take. Was this guy serious? Was he actually suggesting that Palin become the poster child for stupid people?

Then I went on and read the rest. Ohhhh, I get it now: Shriver goes on to explain that because the Palins have a child with Down Syndrome and Sarah has a high public profile, she should use him as the poster child and herself as a shill. Hardly better, in my view, but ever so slightly more noble.

I have to admit - to my shame - that I like my initial context-free interpretation better. If anyone thinks that's defamatory, go ahead and sue me.

Maybe Scotiabank is right

Hey, maybe I am richer than I think.

The hot news on today's wires is that Shaw Communications is buying three television stations from CTV - for a buck apiece. Heck, at that rate I could buy... let me just rummage in my pocket here... hey, an entire nationwide network!

Maybe I should keep an eye out for interesting offerings on eBay or Craigslist. "Older terrestrial-broadcast television network for sale. Analog only - no digital. Selling as-is, where-is. No returns or refunds. We accept PayPal! No bids from Nigeria or Italy please."

Words to live by

... and a great band name, too:

CBC 70% off! A little gallows humour...

I was heading in to the CBC's Toronto Broadcasting Centre on Front Street yesterday when I saw this sign outside. It's not often I do a double-take, but I did.

Hopefully you've all been following the goings-on at Canada's public broadcaster. If you haven't, well, surf here and get caught up. I'll wait for you...

Bacon experiment number 3: Nirvana

PREFACE: Note to all concerned about my health: this is my last bacon adventure. I promise (for now, anyway).

Some time ago I heard about a restaurant in Texas that was serving chicken-fried bacon with cream gravy as an appetizer. What's not to love about that?

I'm not fussed about the gravy part, although I understand it's a key component of traditional chicken-fried steak. For the unitiated, "chicken-fried" means that the food is dredged in a simple flour/milk/egg batter and then fried in oil like fried chicken. No real chickens are involved.

When I started reading and hearing more about chicken-fried bacon, I immediately wondered what the texture and the taste would be like. Soooooo, off to the kitchen.

I won't trouble you with a grand photo sequence on my preparation of this truly heart-stopping dish. I battered the bacon (just saying that makes my mouth water) and deep-fried it in peanut oil, a few strips at a time, in my trusty cast-iron pan. If I had a real deep-fat fryer I would have used that.
As it turned out, the biggest challenge was keeping the oil at a consistent temperature. Everything else was almost ridiculously easy.

And the taste. Wow. I've had deep-fried bacon plenty of times before, as have many of you who have eaten in restaurants; it's an efficient and quick way of cooking larger quantities of bacon. The difference here is the coating; it gives a little extra crunch, and if it's properly seasoned with black pepper, cayenne and such, it gives the bacon a little extra depth. Surprisingly - at least to me, anyway - the frying didn't intensify the traditional smoke and salt flavours of the bacon. What was intensified, of course, was the fat content. As with the Bacon Explosion or its Canadian relative the Bacon Eh-xplosion (see below), a little of this stuff goes a long way. I just tried a couple of strips without any sauce of any kind; if I had used any kind of gravy, I think my arteries would have seized up just on principle.

There. I've done it. I'm not convinced I'll ever do it again, although I have to admit I'm a little curious about how other types of coating (specifically beer batter and tempura batter) might work. Maybe I'll start blogging about other stuff again now.

Return of the Son of Bacon Explosion II: The Revenge

Nearly exactly a month ago I did a post about the Bacon Explosion. Ever since I made it I've been thinking of possible variations to make it better, or at least different. Behold my latest invention: the Bacon Eh-xplosion.

Probably the toughest part of the original Bacon Explosion was the "woven" exterior. It struck me that the dish would be more attractive if the bacon slices were more regular and rectilinear; it would also make it easier to weave. I also mused that the whole thing would have more structural integrity if the outside of the Explosion were a single piece. It was then that I thought about using back bacon or so-called "Canadian" bacon.

So I bought a single piece, along with a few chorizo sausages for the filling. First I thought about using the denser, less-marbled back bacon to create regular and consistent slices for the outside of the dish, but then decided to just use the shape of the piece itself. So after rinsing off most of the cornmeal coating (I know it's usually called peameal bacon in Ontario, but they've actually been using cornmeal for years) I "filleted" the pork back with a sharp knife.
It got a dusting of cajun spice rub, as well as some chili powder.

I re-seasoned the chorizo much like the Italian sausage I used the first time, using dried basil, ground roasted garlic and cajun spice. I also put in a slurp of chipotle barbecue sauce as well as a bit of maple syrup (!), to cut the heat a bit and add another flavour note. In the meantime, I cooked up about a quarter of the bacon I cut out of the pork back:
Once it was fully cooked, I cut it into small pieces and added it to the sausage meat, then formed it into a chub and wrapped it in the outer layer.
Once formed, it got a coat of Blue Smoke barbecue sauce and another hit of spice rub before going into the oven. I cut a few slits into the outer layer to help drain off the fat during cooking.

The final result was, once again, tasty! This version is a bit leaner because of the lower fat content of the back bacon vs. streaky bacon. I probably should have used a bit of kitchen twine to truss this up - it would have made the final product a little prettier - but overall I'm very happy with the way it turned out.
Maybe I should start coming up with a few dishes that don't involve nearly-pure cholesterol...

I don't know if it's art, but I know what I like

Wow, once again it's been a ridiculously long time since my last post. I'll spare you my feelings on all the political crap that's occurred since then - and yikes, there was a lot of it - and move straight into the topic of this evening's post: food! Specifically, a Super-Bowl-worthy, artery-clogging, spectacular orgy of pork fat.

For the past few days the Internet has been abuzz over a little something called the Bacon Explosion. It's kind of a catchy name, but I'm not sure it does justice to a dish that is so glorious in its excess. As near as anyone can tell, a couple of hardcore barbecue aficionados in Kansas City came up with this particular recipe, although in and of itself there's nothing all that original about it. Anyway, I saw a few pics online and decided to try my hand. Here's a little photo documentary of the process.

The raw materials are simple: about a kilo each of thick-cut bacon and mild Italian sausage. I got mine at the St. Lawrence Market.
Then I created a lattice of bacon strips, that will serve as a sort of casing for the porky goodness within. I added a good dose of Cajun spice rub.
The next step was to cook the remaining bacon. First I fried four strips in a non-stick pan to render out the fat. Then I cooked the rest in the microwave, finishing them off in the pan. The end result was some seriously crisp, flavourful and gorgeous bacon.
After re-seasoning the sausage meat with more creole spice, dried basil, cayenne pepper and ground roasted garlic, I spread it out on a silicone sheet and placed the bacon on top.
The silicone baking sheet was a real help in helping roll and form this into a loaf. I then brushed it with chipotle barbecue sauce before placing it on top of the "sheet" of woven bacon.
After a little bit of finagling I was able to get the bacon rolled around the sausage, and it got one more coat of BBQ sauce before going onto a roasting rack in a 225-degree oven.
It took about three hours to get the internal temperature of this behemoth up to the recommended 165 degrees (and I generally go a few degrees higher for safety's sake). The final result looked pretty good.
The final result was tasty and incredibly rich, as you might expect with all those spices and fat. A little goes a long way. I think I'll probably end up freezing some of it for a treat later on in the year.
The perfect Super Bowl treat: a slice or two of this bad boy in a kaiser bun with a slice of cheese and some good mustard. Yum.

Hey, the Food Network it ain't, but it was a fun way to kill a little time on a lazy afternoon.

Election time in Canada, when the idiots are in bloom

It's been quite a while since my last blog post. My apologies. There, now that's out of the way.

What a time it is to be in North America! Seemingly on the verge of a monumental economic Armageddon, with two – count 'em, two – elections on the horizon. It's almost too bad that the vast majority of us can only vote in one of the two, since nearly everyone I know has been following both campaigns with a greater or lesser degree of assiduity. That said, although it's true that when the US sneezes Canada reaches for a tissue, the reverse is seldom the case.

With only a few hours to go before Election Day here in Canada, here are my musings. First, my grades for the federal party leaders.

• Harper: D-minus. For someone who was supposedly all about raising the level of discourse in Ottawa and increasing transparency, he's done a remarkable job of doing exactly the opposite. By keeping the entire PMO, Cabinet and Conservative caucus on an incredibly short leash, Harper has shown himself to be a control freak of biblical proportion. That sort of so-called leadership ill behooves a democracy. Harper has committed the unforgivable sin (in politics, anyway) of pretending to be the smartest guy in the room. Sometimes he is, sometimes he isn't, but he doesn't seem to realize that no one likes the smartest guy in the room.
• Dion: A solid C. There's no question that Dion knows his stuff. He's always well-prepared and, during the campaign at least, hasn't backed away from the fray. He needs to be better than he is, though. If he were to find a way to create a deeper intellectual or emotional connection with voters he'd do very well. Not this time around, I fear.
• Layton: B. Maybe it's my leftie upbringing, but I really like Jack. In a lot of ways Jack is nearly the perfect Canadian politician. He pales, though, in comparison with some of his great political forebears like Ed Broadbent, David Lewis or the great Tommy Douglas.
• Duceppe: B-minus. Paradoxically, the most experienced federal leader in this election. He knows what he wants, he's perfectly capable of spelling it out, and he's smart (and honest) enough to state that if you're not in a position to vote for him, he doesn't care whether or not you agree with him. You have to respect that.
• May: C-plus. She's capable, and can improve her mark in future campaigns.

Now, for the party campaigns and platforms:

• Conservatives: It's been called a Seinfeld campaign, i.e. a campaign about nothing. The Conservative platform was supposedly unveiled last week – one week before the vote – and I still don't have much of an idea of what they really plan on doing. The entire campaign has been built around Harper and his, ahem, leadership. It kinda has to be, since his candidates have shown a distinct inability to run on their own accomplishments. This is the product of the control-freak mentality; when your boss won't let you have or express any ideas of your own, you end up not having much ammunition. The Conservatives spent most of the first couple of weeks of the campaign committing gaffe after gaffe. By and large these incredible cock-ups were the product of arrogant candidates and campaign managers who didn't realize that they really had no idea what they were doing. If I could anthropomorphize the Conservative campaign, it would be Flounder from “Animal House”. To quote Dean Wormer: “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”
• Liberals: *sigh* The Libs missed the boat on this campaign. The Conservatives goaded the Liberals into thinking that this election was about choosing who was the better leader. If the Libs had concentrated on the issues and – more importantly - their team, I think they could have done much better. To prove it, a quick quiz: who would be the top three Tories to step up if something were to happen to Harper? I'd be willing to bet that it would take you a minute or two to come up with the third, and maybe even with a second, name. Harper has had his caucus on such a tight rein for so long that it's hard to even identify the shining lights. With the Liberals, on the other hand, one at least knows that there is more than one brain in the caucus. I think the Liberals may well do better than projected in the polls, but I'm far from convinced that the Natural Governing Party will return to the top of the heap. As a fictional character, the Liberal campaign is Charlie Brown. People begrudgingly like him, even the people who don't, but he still gets no respect.
• New Democrats: It's well documented that Jack Layton's strategy this time around has been to present himself as the Best Alternative to Steve and the Conservatives. And if it were possible to vote for an individual as Prime Minister without regard to the party he/she represents, then Jack would probably do very well indeed. And the party's TV commercials near the end of the campaign have been excellent, although I'm not sure it's a good thing when the cartoon version of you looks better than you do. Full marks, though, for moving to the left and staying there. Who best incarnates the NDP campaign? Pig-Pen: smart, charming in an offbeat sort of way, but no one's gonna ask you on a date.
• Greens: This one is easy. The Greens are the Ugly Betty of Canadian politics, with Elizabeth herself playing the title role. With apologies to Rick Mercer, one could also say that the Greens are the broccoli of Canadian politics (Rick said the same thing about the CBC being Canada's broccoli). You know it's good for you. You really want to like it, but you just can't bring yourself to do it.

I would dearly love to do a similar deconstruction of the US campaign, but it might be wiser to do that in a separate rant. Congratulations to those of you who made it through this one.

And one more thing: my brother Neil is suffering, er, celebrating a significant birthday today. All the best!

Ach Joni, we hardly knew ye...

The world is ending. C'est le monde à l'envers. They're tearing down a parking lot and putting up paradise (or at least a Torontonian version of it).

If Joni Mitchell were dead, she'd be spinning in her grave.

Postmodern picnicking

I saw something fascinating yesterday. I saw a couple with their young (maybe 10-year-old) daughter. They had a baguette, some nice Brie, a few cornichons, some black olives and even a bit of what looked like country pâté. They had picked it all up at the local grocery store and were having a charming little pique-nique, just like something out of Monet... (wait for it) ... at STARBUCKS. They were sitting at the table next to mine, noshing away at the food they'd bought at the Dominion store across the street (and, curiously, not at the St. Lawrence Market, where they could have got better food for less), along with their grande-no-foam-144-degree-three-raw-sugar-go-easy-on-the-caramel soy-because-I-really-love-milk-but-I'm-lactose-intolerant-and-can't-stand-the-taste-of-Lactaid lattes, and an iced lemonade for Princess or Jewel or Mackenzie or whatever the heck the daughter's name is.

I'm an urban* kinda guy. If you offer me the choice between a week in the country and a week in a big city, I'll pick the latter every time. And don't even get me started on cottages or (ugh) camping. As I always say, my idea of 'roughing it' is when room service is late. There are, though, certain activities that should only ever take place outdoors. Suntanning. Golf. Scuba diving. Yes, rugby. But especially picnics. I mean, come on! Make an effort. At least go to a park. If not for you, do it for the children...

* that's urban, i.e. the opposite of rural, not the more recent usage of urban as a euphemism for 'black'. E.g. "Spike Lee is a master of urban cinema" or "Toronto has only one urban music station".

Was Kafka an Aeroplan member?

Yes, it's time for another screed about the marvels of air travel in Canada. Yet again I find myself in Vancouver, busily not enjoying the scenery or the (not quite fabulous) weather.

My return flight to Toronto was delayed by a couple of hours, so I figured I'd make the best of my down time by booking a trip for my summer holiday, using my Aeroplan points. I've done enough traveling over the years that I have a decent number of miles saved up. (for those of you who were raised post-Imperial system, "miles" are those things that we used to use before kilometres came along. Don't ask me why Aeroplan still uses 'em.)

First off, the new and improved Aeroplan now requires vastly more miles for reward travel than it used to. Back in the early days, there were only a specific number of seats per flight that were available for Aerooplan reward travel. A little while ago Aeroplan made a lot of noise about removing that particular restriction. "Every seat can be a reward seat", they crowed.

Not so fast, Sparky. Although it's true that you can now use your miles to get any seat, the number of miles you need to get said seat can often be ridiculous. Air Canada may have simplified its fare structure when it comes to using hard currency, but the byzantine fare rules didn't actually vanish - they've just been applied to reward seats. So a trip that used to cost just 25 000 miles can now cost 150 000 or even more.

*fume*

But wait: it gets better. After I found an itinerary that wasn't going to involve me shedding my entire stock of hard-earned reward miles, I booked it online. I entered all the flight information, dates, name, address, phone numbers, astrological sign, favourite colour and e-mail address. Then I clicked "submit". (There should be doctoral theses written on the appropriateness of that particular verb in this context.)

The highly sophisticated and no doubt ridiculously expensive reservation system essentially laughed at me. "Error", it said, giving an error code and recommending I call tech support to get past this little hiccup.

Being generally the resourceful type, I changed Web browsers and tried again. Same info; same result. Undeterred, I called up the Aeroplan customer service line (yes, as a matter of fact I do think that's a contradiction in terms) to talk to a human being. I went through the itinerary with her, giving all the required information yet again. She was entering the very same information into the very same database I had been using. Then, just as she was about to click "submit", she mentioned casually that it was going to cost me an extra thirty bucks. The explanation was that there is a mandatory fee for booking reward travel through the telephone system.

My response was something along the lines of "Hulk ANGRY". Why fortheluvva Mike would I go through the rigmarole of booking online, be unsuccessful twice, and then have to pay for the privilege of having someone else enter the same info into the same system, with very possibly the same result? The by-now-very-put-upon agent offered to transfer me to tech support.

*fume some more*

Sooooooooo... another pleasant chat, this time with the customer service guy. (A friend of mine in the IT business calls his customer service reps "monkeys". Until today I thought that was unfair.) It turns out that the error code indicated that my e-mail address was "wrong".

Huh? Wrong? The e-mail address I've been using for something like a dozen years? Why, yes, said the (remember, I didn't coin this term) monkey. "Your e-mail address has only two characters before the @. Our system needs at least three."

That's when I think everyone in the lounge heard all the blood vessels in my head explode at the same time.

The system was expecting more characters? I was speechless. Quoth the monkey: "You could always get another e-mail address". It's funny, but maybe I should quit expecting service from, you know, customer service.

Waving without due care and attention

The province of Ontario is considering a ban on cellphones while driving. Other provinces - Newfoundland & Labrador, Nova Scotia and Quebec - have already instituted a ban, and even Alberta is considering it.

That's a good thing. I can't tell you how many people I see running red lights, blowing off stop signs, passing or changing lanes unsafely, all because they're too busy yammering. Being a pedestrian in good ol' Muddy York can be a real challenge at times.

Why am I blogging about this?

Today I had a moment of true puzzlement. On my way home from work I walk in front of a large office building. The underground parkade there is so busy at peak times that the place could really use a traffic light outside to help manage the volume of vehicles coming out. In the absence of a stoplight, there's a paid-duty policeman who is there to direct traffic. He holds off oncoming traffic on Front Street so that people can get in or out of the parkade; he also protects the pedestrians from getting run over by the drivers. All that is as it should be.

Until today. Here's the fine, upstanding officer of the forces of order, merrily directing rush-hour traffic... and talking on his cellphone at the same time.

Let's recap. The province wants to stop people from using their cellphones while they're driving. Why? Because the attention they're paying to their conversations is attention they're not paying to driving safely (cf. my post re cabbies and cellphones). They're distracted, and being distracted is bad.

Am I to infer from this that it's okay, though, for a police officer to be distracted while coordinating the movements of eight or ten vehicles at once?

Oh, and before you ask: the conversation wasn't a life-and-death matter, either. I think I heard something about groceries.

Language barrier

There's a small food court in the building I work in. As you'd expect, there's a predictably bland kiosk that serves Italian (-ish) food like pizza, panzerotti, lasagne... you get the idea. The guy who works at the cash register has, shall we say, a somewhat imperfect command of the English language.

Normally, as I'm walking away after paying for my lunch I expect to hear something along the lines of "See you tomorrow" or perhaps the ubiquitous "Have a nice day". This guy, though, always says "Good luck" as he waves goodbye. Every time he does that, I look at my slowly congealing slice of 'za and wonder whether he's trying to tell me something...

The end of the world as we know it

I saw this marquee outside the Sony Centre last week. Now, I'm no expert on the Bible, but I have read healthy chunks of it over the years, and I seem to remember this as one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse:


Make sure all your affairs are in order; the end is nigh.