I read this article on Slashdot yesterday about ten years of Neon Genesis Evangelion. Vince and I both figured it must be the ten year anniversary of the series ending on TV or something. (It wasn't, but whatever.) What luck, I had just got my Platinum Collection and had watched the first three discs of it. To celebrate, I decided to watch the last two discs in one shot -- the last eleven episodes, all at once. It made my head hurt. Why do I pilot the Eva?
I'm not much of an anime fan. When I was a kid I enjoyed the animation and the action, but not as much as some. I watched Eva in second year; at the beginning I think I was a little drunk and so I dismissively predicted everything that would happen in the show right off the get go. I really had to go to the bathroom, but I decided to stick around for the first few episodes anyway. I ended up holding it in for two hours because I just couldn't tear myself away. Every single one of my predictions was wrong.
After watching Eva, I tried in vain to find something else that would strike my fancy in the same way. Being told by all of my anime-fan friends that Eva was overrated, I watched a few other movies and series that they recommended as being very deep and meaningful, but found nothing that I really liked. I guess I'm just an Eva fan, not an anime fan. But I am a huge Eva fan. It's big, messy, and flawed, sure, but the fact that the story and characters end up in an unfinished soup of confusion and psychological anguish adds a stark honesty to it all: after all, in real life things don't tie up neatly and people don't change. Maybe it only ended up the way it did because the director was trying to do too much and ran out of money, but in the end the series is still something that I don't see enough of in the media: one man's comment on the human condition.
Over the last week then I've been watching it a few episodes at a time. As I had long suspected, much of what I had missed the first times I watched it was made up for by my new monitor, which is actually clear enough for me to see everything, and by improved translations in the subtitles. Maybe because I've watched it so many times, or maybe because I've read the popular interpretations of what was happening, things were finally making sense.
Except the last two episodes.
Why do I pilot the Eva?
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
AYCE high
The other week Brad was asking me what there was to do in Vancouver. Realizing that "playing poker with the LUGs followed by Hamburger Mary's and beating Derek and Victor at Mario Kart", "barbecue, karaoke, and bubble tea with the Math Club", and "playing bass for Dunning's band" aren't really things I can tell tourists, I was left to think: well, what exactly do I do at home? Oh, that's right, I eat. So I tell him and the others that there's lots of great food to be had. In particular, the Japanese food is so much better than here, and there's lots of great all-you-can-eat to be had.
They were all revolted. "What?" "That sounds awful." Huh? "What about Japanese food could possibly lend itself to all-you-can-eat?" And here I thought it was obvious: all of it! What's the matter with you?
As I got to thinking about it, though, I realized why. There really is a dearth of good Japanese food around here. I've heard of exactly one Japanese restaurant that people speak of fondly here, and as such it's packed even on a Wednesday night. It's also really expensive -- I've been to another branch of theirs in an upscale food court and I saw prices as high as $5 for a simple seaweed salad, and $13 for an Alaska roll (or something comparable to it). I've been to other places, and they're either crap or expensive. People are just conditioned to believe that Japanese food is boutique fare, where you are not meant to do anything as gauche as get full. I've asked around, and nobody knows of a good place in San Francisco either; if you can't find it in San Francisco, where will you find it?
For example, after thinking about this for a while, I had a crazy craving for some sushi, so I decided to try a little stuff at the place just north of campus. Things got off to a decent start with the miso soup, but the California roll was lacklustre. Or so I thought at first; as I kept eating, it went from lacklustre to flat-out bad. I also ordered the "fried tofu with teriyaki sauce" thinking it must be agedashi tofu. It wasn't. It was just fried tofu with teriyaki sauce.
This annoyed me, and then it saddened me. I just can't get good, cheap Japanese food around here. I can barely get one of the two. It's not like Vancouver, where you can get 18 pieces of sushi and miso soup for $7.
So when I said all-you-can-eat Japanese, the first thing that came to mind for my friends was not Japanese food, but the Sizzler with raw fish. Now, I love the Sizzler, but that ain't right. I wholeheartedly agree: Japanese food should not involve a sneeze guard.
Intrigued, I asked some Vancouverite friends for their opinions. Everyone agreed: we basically see good Japanese all-you-can-eat as our God-given right. It is more than a meal: it is an event, one which you plan around, look forward to, prepare for rigorously, and tell stories of after the fact. It is a way of life.
Well, not really.
I then asked other people, from other parts of North America. My sample consisted of one Montrealer, two from Florida, several from LA, one from Texas, and one from New Jersey. I asked them: what comes to mind when I say "all-you-can-eat Japanese"? Generally, they bring up little places that they know with crappy food that's clearly been left out for too long, buffet-style complete with sneeze guard. The Sizzler, with raw fish. I'll say it again: that just isn't right.
In the early days of all-you-can-eat Japanese food in the Lower Mainland, yes, there were buffets. Without sneeze guards, even. And for a long time, the sushi really wasn't good at all either. The rice-to-filling ratio was always skewed way too far towards rice. I've heard awful stories about the fish they would use in one particular restaurant, and yeah, it was to be expected. Come on, it's all-you-can-eat.
Gradually, though, things started to change. One day there was just the crappy place with too much rice in their sushi and fish that is best if you really don't think about it, and then the next there was the crappy place and another place, one with sushi that was at least an acceptable facsimile of the full-price version. Not only that, but they had more than just salmon and tuna sushi available. Their tempura was actually crisp and fresh. That place didn't last long, but clearly change was in the air and before long, more and more places started appearing.
Now, good all-you-can-eat in Vancouver isn't the exception, it's the norm. The buffets have long been replaced by a much more civilized system where you write your orders on a sheet and they bring them to you -- no sneeze guard necessary. The sushi can be expected to be at least 80% as good as the non-AYCE version, and even the crappier places have now raised their games. Some places are just amazing, like the one and only Jiro, near Broadway and Main. This, of course, is the place with the story, which all of my friends at home have heard.
And here's that story*.
Here are a few tidbits about all-you-can-eat Japanese in Vancouver. This is mostly for the benefit of my American and otherwise not-Canadian friends, and I ask my experienced friends to contribute, comment, and correct.
Last time I was home, I didn't get a chance to, and all of this talk has made me really eager to get back on the AYCE horse. So, I would like to announce that this summer, while I am at home, we will be visiting Jiro, and we will be doing it more than once. Please, get in touch with me if you wish to join us.
* Incidentally, I told some of my friends this story, but I think I may have overemphasized the gunplay and theft aspects of the story, as now they just think we're reckless idiots for continuing to go there. But they don't understand. I mean, the odds of us actually being there while any serious crimes are being committed are pretty low, and the food is really really good.
Current Music: Peter Adams - The Disappeared
They were all revolted. "What?" "That sounds awful." Huh? "What about Japanese food could possibly lend itself to all-you-can-eat?" And here I thought it was obvious: all of it! What's the matter with you?
As I got to thinking about it, though, I realized why. There really is a dearth of good Japanese food around here. I've heard of exactly one Japanese restaurant that people speak of fondly here, and as such it's packed even on a Wednesday night. It's also really expensive -- I've been to another branch of theirs in an upscale food court and I saw prices as high as $5 for a simple seaweed salad, and $13 for an Alaska roll (or something comparable to it). I've been to other places, and they're either crap or expensive. People are just conditioned to believe that Japanese food is boutique fare, where you are not meant to do anything as gauche as get full. I've asked around, and nobody knows of a good place in San Francisco either; if you can't find it in San Francisco, where will you find it?
For example, after thinking about this for a while, I had a crazy craving for some sushi, so I decided to try a little stuff at the place just north of campus. Things got off to a decent start with the miso soup, but the California roll was lacklustre. Or so I thought at first; as I kept eating, it went from lacklustre to flat-out bad. I also ordered the "fried tofu with teriyaki sauce" thinking it must be agedashi tofu. It wasn't. It was just fried tofu with teriyaki sauce.
This annoyed me, and then it saddened me. I just can't get good, cheap Japanese food around here. I can barely get one of the two. It's not like Vancouver, where you can get 18 pieces of sushi and miso soup for $7.
So when I said all-you-can-eat Japanese, the first thing that came to mind for my friends was not Japanese food, but the Sizzler with raw fish. Now, I love the Sizzler, but that ain't right. I wholeheartedly agree: Japanese food should not involve a sneeze guard.
Intrigued, I asked some Vancouverite friends for their opinions. Everyone agreed: we basically see good Japanese all-you-can-eat as our God-given right. It is more than a meal: it is an event, one which you plan around, look forward to, prepare for rigorously, and tell stories of after the fact. It is a way of life.
Well, not really.
I then asked other people, from other parts of North America. My sample consisted of one Montrealer, two from Florida, several from LA, one from Texas, and one from New Jersey. I asked them: what comes to mind when I say "all-you-can-eat Japanese"? Generally, they bring up little places that they know with crappy food that's clearly been left out for too long, buffet-style complete with sneeze guard. The Sizzler, with raw fish. I'll say it again: that just isn't right.
In the early days of all-you-can-eat Japanese food in the Lower Mainland, yes, there were buffets. Without sneeze guards, even. And for a long time, the sushi really wasn't good at all either. The rice-to-filling ratio was always skewed way too far towards rice. I've heard awful stories about the fish they would use in one particular restaurant, and yeah, it was to be expected. Come on, it's all-you-can-eat.
Gradually, though, things started to change. One day there was just the crappy place with too much rice in their sushi and fish that is best if you really don't think about it, and then the next there was the crappy place and another place, one with sushi that was at least an acceptable facsimile of the full-price version. Not only that, but they had more than just salmon and tuna sushi available. Their tempura was actually crisp and fresh. That place didn't last long, but clearly change was in the air and before long, more and more places started appearing.
Now, good all-you-can-eat in Vancouver isn't the exception, it's the norm. The buffets have long been replaced by a much more civilized system where you write your orders on a sheet and they bring them to you -- no sneeze guard necessary. The sushi can be expected to be at least 80% as good as the non-AYCE version, and even the crappier places have now raised their games. Some places are just amazing, like the one and only Jiro, near Broadway and Main. This, of course, is the place with the story, which all of my friends at home have heard.
And here's that story*.
Here are a few tidbits about all-you-can-eat Japanese in Vancouver. This is mostly for the benefit of my American and otherwise not-Canadian friends, and I ask my experienced friends to contribute, comment, and correct.
- The service method, while definitely an improvement over the buffet style in terms of hygiene, is not perfect. You will find that the second round is slower than the first, and the third is slower than the second, and -- if you make it this far -- the pattern continues. Moreover, you can reasonably expect to get no more than 80% of the things you ordered in any given pass. This generally works out for the best, though, and so you let it slide.
- An inexperienced all-you-can-eater should never be placed in control of the ordering. They inevitably become trigger happy. Worse, they will order things like nigiri sushi, cucumber rolls, and other such things containing more rice than not-rice. This is a rookie mistake and must be avoided. There are only a handful of times in my life where I have been in serious, bloated discomfort after a meal, and 50% of them result from this. (GRAHAM. JIM. JOWEN.)
- You will find that if you order large quantities of certain items, the amount you receive will be far less. This is the well-understood Law of Fours, which states that if you order n of any item, where n>4, you will receive 4 of said item. Not knowing anyone who actually has worked in an all-you-can-eat restaurant, this law remains unproven; however, empirical evidence shows that it holds for a wide variety of items, including (but not restricted to) rolls, sashimi, short ribs, tempura, teriyaki, gyoza (fried, deep-fried, vegetable, and prawn), and karaage. The only items that you will reliably receive all of your requested quantity of are items whose servings come in individual bowls, such as miso soup, sunomono salads, and spinaches gomaae and ohitashi.
- For a short period of time in 2002-2003, the Japanese place in the UBC village went all-you-can-eat. I remember this time period very fondly, but I still don't know what possessed the owners to think this was a good idea on a university campus. They used to tape memorable receipts on the wall near the entrance. One receipt was easily two feet long. Once I came close to this sort of quantity with
JowenVictor (EDIT 11:19PM, sorry Victor), Derek, and Cecile; because we were frequent customers, they let us stay well beyond the alloted two hours. There was me and three other people whose aggregate mass was approximately 320 pounds, and yet we still laid a hurting on that place that I don't expect to ever equal again. Another memorable receipt was at first glance very short, but when you read it, it was damned impressive. One customer; one miso soup; four salmon sashimi; forty California rolls. That's 120 pieces of sushi. - One must be careful not to over-order, as they charge for wasted food. This leads desperate eaters to do such devious things as sneak food into the bathroom to throw away, and stuff the extra food into the teapot. (GRAHAM. JIM.)
- Nobody, nobody, orders the white rice. If you order the white rice, you are an idiot.
- A good roll a) should have a very even curvature all the way around, b) should have at least a 50% filling-to-rice ratio, c) have good, flavourful seaweed. In my experience, a roll that is not round, but square-shaped with rounded corners, is not going to be good. The roll I got at that place just north of campus? Not round.
Last time I was home, I didn't get a chance to, and all of this talk has made me really eager to get back on the AYCE horse. So, I would like to announce that this summer, while I am at home, we will be visiting Jiro, and we will be doing it more than once. Please, get in touch with me if you wish to join us.
* Incidentally, I told some of my friends this story, but I think I may have overemphasized the gunplay and theft aspects of the story, as now they just think we're reckless idiots for continuing to go there. But they don't understand. I mean, the odds of us actually being there while any serious crimes are being committed are pretty low, and the food is really really good.
Current Music: Peter Adams - The Disappeared
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Foot in mouth disease
me: "So, are you a professor here?"
Beth: "No, I'm a research associate. My supervisor studies Lyme disease, so he goes around collecting ticks all over the state. Then I crush them and extract the DNA."
me: "...
"Gross."
Current Music: Stevie Wonder - Uptight (Everything's Alright)
Beth: "No, I'm a research associate. My supervisor studies Lyme disease, so he goes around collecting ticks all over the state. Then I crush them and extract the DNA."
me: "...
"Gross."
Current Music: Stevie Wonder - Uptight (Everything's Alright)
Monday, April 24, 2006
What's Wang This Week
I've been meaning to do a WWTW for a long time now, but then things keep coming up that are time-consuming, urgent, related to my continued studies at Berkeley, and not all that interesting to write about. I think I have found a solution to this; stay tuned. In the meantime, here's a quick update.
After a three-week absence, the folks over at Homestar Runner have done it again. I give you... Thy Dungeonman III! I almost died at the beginning, because I couldn't find a way to convey "wedge the bone in between the walls like Luke did in the first Star Wars movie in a futile attempt to stop the garbage mashers".
I bought a digital camera on Saturday night off Amazon. I had my decision down between the 4 megapixel Canon Powershot A430 and the 5 megapixel Canon Powershot A530 for only $50 more. I then a) read somewhere that 5 megapixels is too much for normal snapshots, and not enough for more detailed prints, b) realized that $50 on a $150 purchase is, like, 33% of the price. So, in the end, I Did What Jowen Would and bought the cheaper.
I then took the money I saved and applied it to a purchase of a NEON GENESIS EVANGELION: PLATINUM CUT DVD COLLECTION!!! W00T Better yet, it was on sale for half price. I really Did What Jowen Would all over the place.
Why do I keep buying pork rinds?
On a happier food note, I've decided that instant oatmeal is for sissies and I've moved on to buying proper, large, rolled oats and cooking them in the microwave. Difficulty: they keep boiling over the side when I cook them. I've since devised a solution, though: first put in 2/3 of the liquid, then microwave for half the time, then add the rest, and finish microwaving. It's science!
Some of my friends (aided by Brad's endorsement) have become interested in Sloan after my really long post about them that no one actually finished. I spread the good word.
Current Music: Sloan - Penpals
EDIT (12:48PM April 24, 2006): I forgot to mention that I've also switched to brown rice, once again Doing What Jowen Would.
After a three-week absence, the folks over at Homestar Runner have done it again. I give you... Thy Dungeonman III! I almost died at the beginning, because I couldn't find a way to convey "wedge the bone in between the walls like Luke did in the first Star Wars movie in a futile attempt to stop the garbage mashers".
I bought a digital camera on Saturday night off Amazon. I had my decision down between the 4 megapixel Canon Powershot A430 and the 5 megapixel Canon Powershot A530 for only $50 more. I then a) read somewhere that 5 megapixels is too much for normal snapshots, and not enough for more detailed prints, b) realized that $50 on a $150 purchase is, like, 33% of the price. So, in the end, I Did What Jowen Would and bought the cheaper.
I then took the money I saved and applied it to a purchase of a NEON GENESIS EVANGELION: PLATINUM CUT DVD COLLECTION!!! W00T Better yet, it was on sale for half price. I really Did What Jowen Would all over the place.
Why do I keep buying pork rinds?
On a happier food note, I've decided that instant oatmeal is for sissies and I've moved on to buying proper, large, rolled oats and cooking them in the microwave. Difficulty: they keep boiling over the side when I cook them. I've since devised a solution, though: first put in 2/3 of the liquid, then microwave for half the time, then add the rest, and finish microwaving. It's science!
Some of my friends (aided by Brad's endorsement) have become interested in Sloan after my really long post about them that no one actually finished. I spread the good word.
Current Music: Sloan - Penpals
EDIT (12:48PM April 24, 2006): I forgot to mention that I've also switched to brown rice, once again Doing What Jowen Would.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Great albums of 1999, part II
In some cool clips of Sloan from the mid-90s I saw on YouTube, people called them "Canada's answer to the Beatles". Critics always loved them, and rightfully so. Pitchfork said that regardless of their outward guise, be it grunge, 60's pop, or 70's rock, the members of Sloan -- Chris Murphy, Pat Pentland, Jay Ferguson, and Andrew Scott -- are A+ songwriters and there isn't much that can hide that. (Except maybe whatever the fuck they did on Action Pact.)
There doesn't seem to be much agreement on which is their best album. iTunes' review claims that One Chord To Another is their "consensus" best album, yet Chart magazine has twice rated Twice Removed the greatest Canadian album of all time. Meanwhile, amongst my peer group Navy Blues is another popular choice.
They're all wrong, because this is their best album:
In Chris Murphy's words, the "underappreciated" Between the Bridges.
As the dedicated will know, around 1995 Andrew moved to Toronto, effectively breaking up the band. Well, not so effectively, because the next year One Chord came out, and around that time they all moved to Toronto, one by one. Around the time Navy Blues came out, I read a quote from Murphy saying something to the effect of, "I've already written all my 'should I leave Halifax' songs, and now I'm writing my 'why did I leave Halifax?' songs." Between the Bridges is the result.
Before anyone says it, I am aware that this is also the consensus worst-rated and least-loved album in their catalogue. Well fuck that. I will grant you that it does not have a "Money City Maniacs" or a "The Good In Everyone". Indeed, I think they only made one video for their singles off Bridges. The charming lo-fi pop sounds of One Chord and the thumping basslines of Navy Blues gave way to something that, on its surface, is a lot less upbeat, less sing-a-longy, and just... greyer, as reflected by the cover. To make matters worse, it was like their marketing machine had forgotten to do anything. When it came out, I hadn't even had any idea they were working on a new album. Well, how good could it really be? I thought. I picked it up thinking it would be so-so, not great, and after a few listens it'd take a more or less permanent place on the shelf.
Then when I listened to it for the first time I was absolutely 100% rapt. I sat next to the CD player looking at the track times because I was so eager to hear what came next. One after another these songs drew me in. The immediate radio hits were missing, sure, but that isn't to say the melodies are tuneless rock pablum. They aren't; they're big and glorious. It's an evolution of their rocking sound on Navy Blues but leaner and with more focus.
It's not like the songs are all sad and lonely either. Everyone (in Canada that is reading this) remembers "Sensory Deprivation" from all those beer commercials. "Losing California" and "Take Good Care Of The Poor Boy" are two of their finest rockers. "The Marquee and the Moon" was Murphy's trademark wit applied to something deeply emotional and moving, and "A Long Time Coming" is, for my money, one of their best love songs. But these descriptions are glib and could be attached to the best stuff off any of their albums. What sets this one apart is that all of the songs have a certain depth to them that they had never demonstrated before. The grey that is pervasive in the look and sound of the album is intentional, reflecting the confusion of uprooting and the feeling of homesickness. This is an album with a unified purpose, and as such there is an urgency to each one of their songs that isn't on any of their previous albums.
To be fair, I am sure that a lot of why I love this album so much is because when I first heard it I was in grade 12 and about to graduate. I was grappling with the decision of whether to stay at home and go to SFU or to move to Vancouver and go to UBC. I had lived in the same house my whole life and I wasn't sure if I could bear to give it up. This album spoke to my difficulty, and because of that I identify it really strongly with a time and a place. I put on this album and I am sitting at home (home home) next to the stereo on a rainy day, admissions booklets on the desk and the TV on mute.
That alone would be enough to ensure this album a place in my personal pantheon, which makes my decision to not bring this album to Berkeley with me when I moved here really strange. Even before I moved, it had been a while since it had come out so I hadn't listened to it a lot. But I've since retrieved it and it feels even more important to me. I listen to it and I feel like I am hearing, watching, my own life. There is Sloan, sitting outside on a foggy day thinking about home and wondering if they made the right decision to leave. There they are, returning home for a weekend, maybe, going to a place they've been a million times and finding that the records in the jukebox have all been replaced. Wondering if they'll ever fit in with their old friends again. Trying to convince themselves that they had to prove they could manage all by themselves. Getting encouragement from their family, friends, and old mentors. Losing themselves in moments and wishing they could stay. Having a bit of success, but only thinking about what they've lost. Fortifying themselves with a final "we believe in you" from home and plugging forward.
Or is that me doing all that?
Lately I've been playing a lot more music and I got to thinking about writing songs again, but I couldn't think of anything to write about. Then it hit me; maybe I could write about being a Canadian in the US, being surrounded by things that are so similar on the surface but just different enough to sting. I could write about how half of being grown up is wondering what you've lost. I would capture the frustration and confusion of wondering if I would have been better off staying put at UBC. Maybe I could write a whole album! Maybe it would one day be regarded as the great Canadian album about growing up and leaving for bright lights, big city, and the big leagues.
But then I realized that Sloan already wrote it.
Current Music: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Suck My Kiss
There doesn't seem to be much agreement on which is their best album. iTunes' review claims that One Chord To Another is their "consensus" best album, yet Chart magazine has twice rated Twice Removed the greatest Canadian album of all time. Meanwhile, amongst my peer group Navy Blues is another popular choice.
They're all wrong, because this is their best album:
In Chris Murphy's words, the "underappreciated" Between the Bridges.
As the dedicated will know, around 1995 Andrew moved to Toronto, effectively breaking up the band. Well, not so effectively, because the next year One Chord came out, and around that time they all moved to Toronto, one by one. Around the time Navy Blues came out, I read a quote from Murphy saying something to the effect of, "I've already written all my 'should I leave Halifax' songs, and now I'm writing my 'why did I leave Halifax?' songs." Between the Bridges is the result.
Before anyone says it, I am aware that this is also the consensus worst-rated and least-loved album in their catalogue. Well fuck that. I will grant you that it does not have a "Money City Maniacs" or a "The Good In Everyone". Indeed, I think they only made one video for their singles off Bridges. The charming lo-fi pop sounds of One Chord and the thumping basslines of Navy Blues gave way to something that, on its surface, is a lot less upbeat, less sing-a-longy, and just... greyer, as reflected by the cover. To make matters worse, it was like their marketing machine had forgotten to do anything. When it came out, I hadn't even had any idea they were working on a new album. Well, how good could it really be? I thought. I picked it up thinking it would be so-so, not great, and after a few listens it'd take a more or less permanent place on the shelf.
Then when I listened to it for the first time I was absolutely 100% rapt. I sat next to the CD player looking at the track times because I was so eager to hear what came next. One after another these songs drew me in. The immediate radio hits were missing, sure, but that isn't to say the melodies are tuneless rock pablum. They aren't; they're big and glorious. It's an evolution of their rocking sound on Navy Blues but leaner and with more focus.
It's not like the songs are all sad and lonely either. Everyone (in Canada that is reading this) remembers "Sensory Deprivation" from all those beer commercials. "Losing California" and "Take Good Care Of The Poor Boy" are two of their finest rockers. "The Marquee and the Moon" was Murphy's trademark wit applied to something deeply emotional and moving, and "A Long Time Coming" is, for my money, one of their best love songs. But these descriptions are glib and could be attached to the best stuff off any of their albums. What sets this one apart is that all of the songs have a certain depth to them that they had never demonstrated before. The grey that is pervasive in the look and sound of the album is intentional, reflecting the confusion of uprooting and the feeling of homesickness. This is an album with a unified purpose, and as such there is an urgency to each one of their songs that isn't on any of their previous albums.
To be fair, I am sure that a lot of why I love this album so much is because when I first heard it I was in grade 12 and about to graduate. I was grappling with the decision of whether to stay at home and go to SFU or to move to Vancouver and go to UBC. I had lived in the same house my whole life and I wasn't sure if I could bear to give it up. This album spoke to my difficulty, and because of that I identify it really strongly with a time and a place. I put on this album and I am sitting at home (home home) next to the stereo on a rainy day, admissions booklets on the desk and the TV on mute.
That alone would be enough to ensure this album a place in my personal pantheon, which makes my decision to not bring this album to Berkeley with me when I moved here really strange. Even before I moved, it had been a while since it had come out so I hadn't listened to it a lot. But I've since retrieved it and it feels even more important to me. I listen to it and I feel like I am hearing, watching, my own life. There is Sloan, sitting outside on a foggy day thinking about home and wondering if they made the right decision to leave. There they are, returning home for a weekend, maybe, going to a place they've been a million times and finding that the records in the jukebox have all been replaced. Wondering if they'll ever fit in with their old friends again. Trying to convince themselves that they had to prove they could manage all by themselves. Getting encouragement from their family, friends, and old mentors. Losing themselves in moments and wishing they could stay. Having a bit of success, but only thinking about what they've lost. Fortifying themselves with a final "we believe in you" from home and plugging forward.
Or is that me doing all that?
Lately I've been playing a lot more music and I got to thinking about writing songs again, but I couldn't think of anything to write about. Then it hit me; maybe I could write about being a Canadian in the US, being surrounded by things that are so similar on the surface but just different enough to sting. I could write about how half of being grown up is wondering what you've lost. I would capture the frustration and confusion of wondering if I would have been better off staying put at UBC. Maybe I could write a whole album! Maybe it would one day be regarded as the great Canadian album about growing up and leaving for bright lights, big city, and the big leagues.
But then I realized that Sloan already wrote it.
Current Music: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Suck My Kiss
Saturday, April 15, 2006
The Crawford Era
Is it pretty much understood now that Marc Crawford will be gone after the end of the season? I certainly think he will be, and along with him will be Bertuzzi and maybe Naslund. I personally won't be too sad to see Naslund go, as for the whole last season and the end of the previous season he hasn't been giving off good vibes. This season there have been numerous stories about the problems in the Canucks' dressing room. In particular, I read a report on TSN that said that a player who started the season in the Canucks' lineup (McCarthy?) claimed their problems to be "ten times worse than they appear to be". The way Naslund played definitely supported the rumours (for fuck's sakes, pass to Morrison/Ohlund/Jovo/Salo/Baumgartner/not Bertuzzi, he's open). Now, any hockey fan knows that hockey writers' opinions are a very noisy signal, so to speak, but any statistician knows that as you average them out you tend towards the truth. It's the law of averages!
Anyway, when I look back at the great Canucks teams of recent years that came short in the playoffs, it always comes down to the goaltending. Cloutier was steady in the regular season but didn't seem to flat-out steal a lot of games. Fortunately, he rarely had to. This year Auld carried the team at stretches, but then he reverted back to ordinary, which I assume has something to do with only getting four games off in the last four months. Giving Cloutier the benefit of the doubt, maybe that's what happened to him the last four years.
This has always rankled me, ever since Brian Burke and Crawford came to power. Great as their team may have been, it really seemed like they simply could not handle goalies. Burke was responsible for the acquisition of Felix Potvin, remember. As for Crawford, I have this theory that at any given time in the last five years, either the wrong goalie has been the starter in Vancouver or the backup goalie is unduly getting the shaft. 2001: Dan Cloutier got the start over Bob Essensa in the playoffs. 2003: Peter Skudra had a couple of bad games and Crawford lost all confidence in him -- never mind that Skudra stood on his head to get the Canucks into the playoffs the previous year. 2003: the Canucks pick up Johan Hedberg. I always thought that if you went around the league the majority of coaches would start Hedberg over Cloutier. Hedberg had a string of bad games, probably relating to his broken hand, and just like that Crawford is done with him, causing Hedberg to play even worse. Auld got the nod in the playoffs as soon as Hedberg let in one bad goal.
This year, Auld wins -- well, falls ass-backwards into -- the backup job by virtue of his contract situation. He plays well but peters out, likely due to fatigue. Why did he only get four nights off? His first backup, Maxime Ouellet, has three ordinary games and is finished in Vancouver. His second backup Mika Noronen, yet another Goalie Of The Future, plays one so-so game and is shelved for the rest of the season. Meanwhile, Auld falters down the stretch but Crawford continues to go to him, night after night. He was no better than ordinary when I saw him the other night.
This all seems hypocritical of Crawford when you consider all the breaks he's given to Cloutier. Why? I have a theory, which I of course pulled out of my ass because I really don't know hockey enough to be talking about it: Crawford's pre-Canucks NHL career was exclusively with the Nordiques/Avs, where he had to deal with a rather lame tandem of Stephane Fiset and Jocelyn Thibault before they got Patrick Roy, whom Crawford rode to the Cup. I think his mistake was treating Cloutier as if he was Patrick Roy, at the tender age of 26. Maybe he had bad memories of the platoon situation?
Anyway, I really hope that the next coach of the Canucks is ready to give the other guy a chance, dammit, and I'd like to see a backup goalie actually get a fair chance to get hot. Every year a backup goalie rises to prominence and steals the starter's job. For example, Auld seems alright but let's not forget that the previous season in Manitoba he lost his starting job to Wade Flaherty, then 37 years old. I'm not saying that it will happen, but that it could happen and if it did we'd all be really happy about it. Besides, why run Auld into the ground? He's not Patrick Roy either, he's only 25.
Oh, and I hope, if he stays for next year, that Naslund passes to someone else, dammit. Also, that "world renown writer" Kevin Kinghorn sits on his own nuts and faints.
Current Music: Guillemots - Bad Boyfriend
Anyway, when I look back at the great Canucks teams of recent years that came short in the playoffs, it always comes down to the goaltending. Cloutier was steady in the regular season but didn't seem to flat-out steal a lot of games. Fortunately, he rarely had to. This year Auld carried the team at stretches, but then he reverted back to ordinary, which I assume has something to do with only getting four games off in the last four months. Giving Cloutier the benefit of the doubt, maybe that's what happened to him the last four years.
This has always rankled me, ever since Brian Burke and Crawford came to power. Great as their team may have been, it really seemed like they simply could not handle goalies. Burke was responsible for the acquisition of Felix Potvin, remember. As for Crawford, I have this theory that at any given time in the last five years, either the wrong goalie has been the starter in Vancouver or the backup goalie is unduly getting the shaft. 2001: Dan Cloutier got the start over Bob Essensa in the playoffs. 2003: Peter Skudra had a couple of bad games and Crawford lost all confidence in him -- never mind that Skudra stood on his head to get the Canucks into the playoffs the previous year. 2003: the Canucks pick up Johan Hedberg. I always thought that if you went around the league the majority of coaches would start Hedberg over Cloutier. Hedberg had a string of bad games, probably relating to his broken hand, and just like that Crawford is done with him, causing Hedberg to play even worse. Auld got the nod in the playoffs as soon as Hedberg let in one bad goal.
This year, Auld wins -- well, falls ass-backwards into -- the backup job by virtue of his contract situation. He plays well but peters out, likely due to fatigue. Why did he only get four nights off? His first backup, Maxime Ouellet, has three ordinary games and is finished in Vancouver. His second backup Mika Noronen, yet another Goalie Of The Future, plays one so-so game and is shelved for the rest of the season. Meanwhile, Auld falters down the stretch but Crawford continues to go to him, night after night. He was no better than ordinary when I saw him the other night.
This all seems hypocritical of Crawford when you consider all the breaks he's given to Cloutier. Why? I have a theory, which I of course pulled out of my ass because I really don't know hockey enough to be talking about it: Crawford's pre-Canucks NHL career was exclusively with the Nordiques/Avs, where he had to deal with a rather lame tandem of Stephane Fiset and Jocelyn Thibault before they got Patrick Roy, whom Crawford rode to the Cup. I think his mistake was treating Cloutier as if he was Patrick Roy, at the tender age of 26. Maybe he had bad memories of the platoon situation?
Anyway, I really hope that the next coach of the Canucks is ready to give the other guy a chance, dammit, and I'd like to see a backup goalie actually get a fair chance to get hot. Every year a backup goalie rises to prominence and steals the starter's job. For example, Auld seems alright but let's not forget that the previous season in Manitoba he lost his starting job to Wade Flaherty, then 37 years old. I'm not saying that it will happen, but that it could happen and if it did we'd all be really happy about it. Besides, why run Auld into the ground? He's not Patrick Roy either, he's only 25.
Oh, and I hope, if he stays for next year, that Naslund passes to someone else, dammit. Also, that "world renown writer" Kevin Kinghorn sits on his own nuts and faints.
Current Music: Guillemots - Bad Boyfriend
Friday, April 14, 2006
With the convenience fee, I paid $22.50 for that
I also drove, so I didn't get tanked on $7 beers. I decided instead to get a $4.25 jumbo hot dog and $5.25 nachos with that processed cheese goop stuff. In retrospect, I feel that it was just as fitting a metaphor for the Canucks' season.
Anyway, we lost, Edmonton won, the season is a bust. We didn't just lose, we went down like bitches. Perhaps I will bitch more later (because who doesn't want to hear about hockey from someone who can barely skate?) when I'm more coherent and not stuffed full of In-N-Out.
Anyway, we lost, Edmonton won, the season is a bust. We didn't just lose, we went down like bitches. Perhaps I will bitch more later (because who doesn't want to hear about hockey from someone who can barely skate?) when I'm more coherent and not stuffed full of In-N-Out.
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