Where's the music?

This is a returning theme of this blog -- that the to which it owes it's name generally doesn't exist. Sure, if you go into Zap Records, or the Summer Dock Studio (Wolfe Island), or The Dorian School of Music, you can buy our cd -- but aside from that, there really hasn't been much going on since our November show. And that sucks.

Every time I run into, or talk with one of the guys from the band I feel like such an ass that I haven't managed to pull together anything resembling a show.

I've enjoyed making music and shows with Peja -- but no matter how much I like to pretend to the contrary -- she's probably a bit young for being in a band. Give her a year, maybe two, and there could be something there - but right now she shouldn't have to worry about whether the song is a swing or a shuffle. So, maybe soon, I'll get something scheduled. I've been talking to Kyra and Tully at the park, and it'd be cool if we could do another show like last summer's Wilson Room spectacle.

The Dorian spring recital is being split this year -- there'll be two shows; the 2nd of which will feature my students on June 28th in my favourite venue -- The Wilson room at the Central Library. I have a few songs to learn -- I think I'm supposed to sing or drum about 75% of the tunes, so I should probably figure them out. . . I can sing Green Day, right? My students are doing a great job learning their stuff -- I think we'll pull together a good show.

I've been playing ball at Peja's school at a great community pick-up game. I am amazed and very pleased to find a large number of Dad's and Mom's who dig basketball too. It's not quite the level of KSSC, but it's pretty fun, and at 2 hours or so, a longer and better work-out. We had 8 players out last week, which seems about perfect, 3 on 3 with 2 subs lets everyone play as much as they want, with an option for rest. You constantly switch teammates, which can be confusing, but also makes it really fun, and it means you never get too upset by physical players, because 10 minutes after they knock you over, they're helping you by setting a dirty screen for a lay-up.

Uh, that was a bit scattered. . .

Take care.

You'll Always Mean the Same: Demo

Transformers

I dropped out of film school, as many of you know, and pretty much stopped enjoying nearly all forms of passive entertainment.

Because I'd like the world to be black and white.

Things are much simpler that way.

Or, so I thought.

Sienna, my poor wife, has put up with me for 5 years, and slowly, slowly, I have been willing to participate in movie watching. Now, a good drama still bores me to death. The writer Dave Eggers discusses fiction as driving down the street in a clown costume -- you know it's a clown costume, everyone else knows it's a clown costume, but we all pretend not to notice. The costume is the fiction, and the pretending is our suspension of disbelief. Now, when I studied film-making, I started noticing the clown. Because it's an f'n clown -- and, guess what, I'm not getting emotionally attached to a clown. ("guess what, I'm not. . ." could've been tatooed on my face from ages 15-23)

Now, what I have discovered, is that the movies that I could still really whole-heartedly enjoy were the ones that purported to no higher purpose than entertainment.

With that in mind, I present -- Jay's first Very Short Way After the Fact Film Review!

Today's film is Transformers, Directed by Michael Bay.

I will fight, to the death if necessary, anyone who argues that this film is anything but the absolute best movie it could be; given, of course, that's it's about transforming robots from outer-space.

Grade: A

So ends Jay's first Way After the Fact Film Review.

Off to Sleep

I just put Peja to sleep with 30 pages of Danny the Champion of the World, which was the very first book I ever read cover-to-cover in one sitting. I'm not sure how much she's getting, her 4th birthday is still a couple of months away, but every night she chooses it over the stacks of Dora and Franklin, so I'm hopeful that her mind's eye contains the same dark woods I conjured twenty years ago.

Chatting with Peja -- Episode 12