Archive for March, 2004

Last Sunday after church we had a potluck lunch and by far the most coveted dish in our group of lunch eaters was the Ambrosia — Ambrosia salad.

What is “ambrosia?” What does the word mean? I had some notion that it was an adjective describing something ripped up, cracked and reddish orange in colour. That works for the salad, there’s lots of mandarin oranges, cherries and coconut shavings. But now, I know I was way off.

I checked out a dictionary and learned that the preeminent definition of “ambrosia” is that it refers to the immortality conferring food of the Greek gods. Now, let me tell you how I got all mixed-up.

I blame it on the Lost Dogs. They sing a song on The Green Room Serenade — Part One called “Sweet Work of Love.” Let me quote the chorus…

You’re like some great dead planet,
Scarred by riffs, ruts and cracks
from all the mighty collisions
and the knives in your back
Still there’s ambrosia on your surface…

Sounds like my definition might work, right? Of course it should, this is what I primarily based my definition on. But it continues…

Still there’s ambrosia on your surface
and manna for the hungry
Food for the beggar,
the poor for your money

And there’s the correct definition. Ambrosia and manna are both God given foods to sustain His people — in a poetic kind of way. What do I hear in the song? The planet represents God’s chosen and the Lost Dogs are Calvinists. Hee hee hee.

Well, not a lot’s been happening this week, but I think it’s good for me in a creative sense if I blog often, so here goes…

Old Number One: The Muppets. I like the Muppets — always have. And this past fall I found a fun web site devoted to them. And it’s really well done. They even have an online Muppet radio station — though, I can’t listen to that for long due to an over abundance of Bear in the Big Blue House music.

Old Number Two: Encyclopedia Brown Mysteries. When I was a kid I had a lot of Encyclopedia Brown books. Last night my wife was cleaning out the closet and found one of her old ones. I read a few mysteries and solved half of them. I didn’t remember that Encyclopedia’s real first name was Leroy though.

New Number One: Fillmore. I’ve started watching this show regularly the past couple of weeks. It’s a cartoon throwback to late 80’s early 90’s TV police dramas. But it’s set in a modern suburban middle school. Quite entertaining, clever and well animated.

Hmm, if the Muppets did mysteries there’d be a solid link with these three items. Oh yeah, The Great Muppet Caper!

This afternoon Jenn and I went to beautiful Perth, Ontario. Our original plan (this morning) was to go to a maple syrup farm and eat pancakes there. But sleeping and other activities pushed our departure time back so we ate breakfast here and decided to go pancaking next weekend. This weekend we were just going to go somewhere.

Perth is about an hour south west of Ottawa, near the Mississippi River (yup, it’s true) and apparently part of the Rideau Canal network that goes between Ottawa and Kingston.

We did a walking tour that I got from the interweb and I was apparently as anal about seeing the points of interest in numerical order as I was insistent on following the blue carpet through the Ottawa Home Show last night — but that’s another story for another time.

So, one of the highlights of the tour was seeing the location of the “last fatal duel” in Ontario. Apparently two law students in Perth were arguing about a teacher. One Mr. Lyon was upset about a disparaging remark that another Mr. Wilson made regarding one Ms. Elizabeth Hughes. Apparently the first volley of shots didn’t kill anyone, but after the second, Mr. Lyon lay dead. Mr. Wilson then married Ms. Hughes and everyone lived happily ever after — except the dead Mr. Lyon.

Makes you wonder where the last non-fatal duel was.

Today, while being a good house-husband, I was doing the dishes and watching The Dark Crystal on DVD. TDC is a classic and I enjoy it, but I got to thinking, “I could come up with a story as good as this.”

Jim Henson was a puppeteer and he did it better than anyone I can think of. He was very imaginative too. But, his story (at least TDC) doesn’t seem to have a whole lot of depth to it. At least in my estimation, and that’s why I figure I could come up with something as good.

To me, TDC seems pretty easy. There’s no integral backstory — other than the history of the Crystal — at least not like there is for Tolkien, Lewis and Rowling’s work.

Maybe it’s because TDC is a movie, not a novel. We don’t know Jen’s real stuggles, and what he’s thinking. We don’t really know what (if anything) motivates him. More important to me, the world of TDC doesn’t seem as believable, because it isn’t as fleshed out as my favourite author’s worlds. Sure, it’s got lot’s of locals with weird flora and fauna, but I think that should be the icing on the cake and there should be more of a history to the land.

I don’t know, perhaps I’m being unfair. I think I could do as good though, story wise. And, I like The Dark Crystal.

Maybe it’s because I watch too much T.V. or maybe it’s because this commercial is on all the time but I can’t stand the current Old Gravy* commercial.

At first it was the guy on the surfboard at the end who says “Toes on the nose, bros.&rdquo Now it’s the dude sitting on the hay bale pumping his fist in the air like a moron. Man, I can’t stand these idiots. No doubt I’ve given too much of my life to these commercials.

I guess I won’t be shopping Old Gravy* any time soon. But that’s okay, I’ve got plenty of boxers and they haven’t had any t-shirts that I’ve liked for a while.

*Name changed to protect the innocent (you) from shopping there.

A number of years ago, seven or more I’d guess, I went to dinner at my friend Sandy Taddeo’s place. His family was there and we had a great meal. I remember two things in particular about that meal. First, a coffee mug that became often quoted when someone other than I was doing something I deemed to be selfish: “Time for Me.” The mug was probably quite benign, but I thought it was funny. Second, something that I carry with me to this day…

As good memories go, this memory has probably changed a bit from the truth, but here it is. We were having chicken for supper — a tasty chicken too — and someone (maybe Chris, maybe Sandy’s mom, I don’t remember) had peeled the skin of their piece of chicken. The skin was brown and crispy, sure to be a treat. Sandy’s dad asked (in a very loud Taddeo kind of way,) “You going to eat that skin? I’ll have your skin, it’s the best part!”

Last night Jenn and I had a chicken supper. We often get one when we go grocery shopping. For $10 you get a nice roasted chicken, potato wedges and two salads. It feeds us for supper and lunch the next day and there’s still left-overs. The skin isn’t as nice as Mrs. Taddeo’s chicken skin, but it’s still good.

Jenn doesn’t eat her chicken skin and won’t let me eat it either. She let’s me eat my chicken skin, but throws the rest out. She doesn’t understand that it’s the best part.

This morning I went to the Canadian Museum of Nature, just a fifteen minute walk from my house. Jenn and I ended up enjoying the big old building and it’s history more than any of the other exhibits there. The reason for that is that all the exhibits and the museum’s decor is cheap looking, old and tacky.

It’s obvious that precious little funding goes into this place. It also looks like there is very little vision there. In fact, when the original museum was proposed and designed, the idea was for it to be one of two anchors in the capitol’s urban plan. The Victoria Museum (as it was called) at the south end of Metcalf Ave. and Parliament at the north. All along Metcalf was supposed to be a grand, national promenade. Presently the best feature along it is Colonnade Pizza — a bit greasy but delicious.

Here’s where my dictatorial wondering comes in. Vision comes from one person. Ideally they can convey that vision to others and as a unified group plans can be made and carried out. Unboubtably that’s what should have happened with the Victoria Museum, Parliament, Metcalf Ave. and the whole National Capital Region. But for some reason — my guess is political wrangling — the vision was squelched. If I had the vision I’d want to maintain ownership of it and see my vision done right — like the architect of the Museum of Civilization.

…and if political wrangling got in the way, I’d want to over throw the government and be a dictator.

So, this morning when I had returned from driving Jenn to work I noticed the now familiar smell that is sometimes in my neighbourhood. It smells like really salty chicken soup — or B.O. (Note, this has nothing to do with using my inner nose.)

I was going to mention it in today’s entry, but it didn’t seem to hold enough weight. However, just now when I walked to the corner to mail our tax return, I noticed a “CHRO Eye-In-The-Sky” van behind the restaurant on the other corner. Said restaurant is where I suspect aforementioned smells come from. I figured that since I was thinking about the restaurant and the TV station was broadcasting from there, that it warranted a post.

So, here are some other nuggets of information about my neighbourhood: It’s 130 steps from my front door to the mailbox, and another 10 steps to the restaurant (but on the other corner). It’s 250 steps from my front door to the Rideau Canal (a guess,) and a guy down the street has a really big boat in his back yard, propped up on palates. Oh yeah, drivers tend to stop at intersections and wave me through.

PS: Kent, I don’t think drivers have the right to run down pedestrians here in Ottawa either.

So, this is something that’s bothered me for a long time, and it happened again to me today. I was driving home as I came to a stop sign in my neighbourhood. Now, it wasn’t a four way stop, the street I was crossing was a thoroughfare that had the right of way.

As I came to a stop two other cars were traveling to the intersection on the through street. The driver of the first car noticing that I had stopped at my stop sign slowed down and stopped herself — and stopped the car behind her — before she started to wave me through the intersection!

What craziness! I’m all for politeness and courtesy, but this goes beyond that. Besides the fact that this driver’s “politeness” put me in a position where I was expected to cut across traffic, it unexpectedly delayed the traffic behind her.

What’s worse is when drivers stop to wave pedestrians across the street in similar situations. Dumb.

PS: Happy St. Patrick’s Day

Last night Jenn and I were trying to explain how one can know God and how we can put that into words. God, not being one to hang around physically with us often, is hard to know in physical ways. The closest tangible thing I have as a way to know God is the Bible. But what else do I have aside from that?

I don’t hear Him with my ears, or see Him with my eyes any more than I touch Him with my fingers. Yet we often hear those types of expressions used to convey how we relate to Him. So, I decided to explore a new internal sense. Not the inner eye, or the inner ear (although I guess we do have one of those in a physical sense) but the inner nose.

How do I know that God is there? When I stop cooking up the thoughts and feelings of the day, I smell God with my inner nose.