more Ottawa

In Ottawa, speed bumps are called "speed humps." For serious.

It's finally getting cold here, and - as if on cue - the heat in my car broke the other day. Yay for timing.

I took a surreal walk along the Rideau the other night. It finally froze. Not enough to skate or walk on (I'm not really a winter guy, but it does look like fun), just enough to make it all shiny and reflective. The thin sheet of ice acts like a giant mirror; pretty amazing to see at night.

It's incredible, in this city, that you can be practically downtown and still so removed from the hustle and bustle of civilization.

the inexhaustible quest for the perfect slice

I have yet to eat a truly good pizza in this hamlet you people call a city. It's not as if pizza joints are difficult to find in Ottawa ...they're everywhere! Quantity, but alas, no quality. And what is the deal with burying the toppings underneath the cheese? Pepperoni on pizza is meant to be crispy...or at least cooked through.

I used to think that perhaps "Canadian cuisine" was itself an oxymoron, but I've found enough great food north of the border to belie this notion. Schwartz's in Montreal is a bonafide classic, serving what is probably the best luncheon meat in the world. And London and Toronto are not without their share of quality eateries.

Still...I tread lightly. Especially when ordering burgers. "Rare" typically means "medium well." I suppose I could ask around, perhaps get someone to recommend a place, but as the locals here gave Harvey's (no joke) an honorable mention for "best burger" in their "best of Ottawa" poll, their culinary taste is more than a little suspect.

On the positive side, Indian food is not nearly as commonplace as pizza, and typically very good. I'll just have to forego my slices in favor of naan and samosas.

soundtrack to this moment

Everly Brothers - "I Wonder if I Care as Much"
Tom Waits - "Warm Beer and Cold Women"

Right now, it's warmer in Ottawa than in Detroit. Suckers.

double binds

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."

- Jack Kerouac

Kerouac might describe madness as little more than passion with no particular place to go. I suppose I'm too cautious to be mad, but too passionate to be unequivocally cautious. What does that mean? I have no idea...but it's as good a reason as any for being awake at 3 in the morning.

today

Just a couple more hours of 11/11.

The Roman Line

It's rare that I plug bands on here, but these up-and-comers are the real deal:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=11549707&Mytoken=A99F8E02-DA80-4EC6-B8D39672B68395892091788640

Still a little rough around the edges...which works perfectly for this stuff. Ambitious, sweeping pop melodies awash in gain and feedback. Kind of like Brian Wilson writing songs for an 80s movie soundtrack with the Jesus and Mary Chain.

We play with them Saturday in Toronto. Go.

Currently...

...attempting to clear my head with:

Robbie Fulks - "I Never Did Like Planes"
Stevie Wonder - "I Believe When I Fall in Love"
Buzzcocks - "What do I Get?"

I don't think my neighbors liked the last one.

Other people's conversations...

...suck.

Did you ever listen - inadvertently or purposefully - to what random people are saying within earshot of you? I already suspected the worst, but riding the bus has raised the bar. There's nothing quite like public transportation - with its close, uncomfortable quarters - for rediscovering one's misanthropic tendencies. Today, I had the displeasure of hearing this little nugget of meandering nonsense:

"So it's like, my name is Kat and I was totally a cat for Halloween...people were so into it...because I was a cat, and it's my name...people were calling me a cat - because I looked like a cat - and I was like 'I am!' and they so didn't even know..."

And so it went. Not for one minute or two, but for the entirety of my 20-minute bus ride.

Methinks she needs a few minutes alone in a room with Stewie Griffin and lots of sharp power tools.

here comes/goes the sun

After weeks of seemingly endless rain, the sun finally poked its way through the clouds late this afternoon.

It set 15 minutes later. Stupid autumn.

Sometimes, the moon comes out during the day, but the sun never comes out at night. Doesn't seem fair.