I don’t know quite what it is, but this feels like one of the least educational or captivating Heritage Moments I’ve seen. It’s like this: These guys are practicing music. They have to practice O Canada. They don’t do it well for a second. Then they do it well.
I like that one guy’s accent (are Les Voltigeurs de Quebec a bilingual group or is he speaking Engish because he knows he’s being used to fill Canadian children in the future with national pride?). I like the way he laughs when they don’t play well the first time (I know nothing of professional music. Are they really expected to do it perfectly the first time they see the sheet music?). That’s about all I got here. It’s not bad, it’s just there.
I’m only giving this one Two out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake. It washes over me and leaves nothing behind. That’s that. I’m done thinking about it.
Hey. Senator Lizard is back with a new album (cover):
Hey, it’s that time of year when PDR remembers that he’s in a band. Time for a new Senator Lizard album.
Dear My MP3 Player,
I lost you on the bus, I think, or maybe when I was just getting onto the bus. My MP3 player, I assure you that it wasn’t intentional. I had you playing, as I always did, and a song had just ended as I was getting on the bus, so I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t hear music for a moment, but then when I didn’t hear a song start up again, I checked for you and only found the end of the headphone cord. You were gone. Maybe you caught on something as I stepped onto the bus and fell onto the ground. I couldn’t find you on the floor of the bus.
You may have been an old MP3 player that I would often find reason to complain about. You had no option to play randomly and you had to spend three minutes “updating” every time I recharged you. But you were purple, which was cool. And you took a lot of damage, which is a useful skill for anything I own. You served me well for several years and now I miss you.
But that isn’t the main reason for this letter, MP3 Player. The main thing I need to say is that you are an MP3 Player, you can not read letters. Please stop reading this. It is freakin’ me out. Stop it.
Yours ponderously,
Patrick D Ryall
Okay, my latest encounter with the police has just occurred. It is just a small one, but I did say I’d put them all on here:
So I’d just gotten home from work and decided I’d go grab some groceries from the twenty-four hour Sobeys down the road. But I did not take a direct route, instead opting for a meandering path of walkin’ fun on side streets. I was wearing my mp3 player and dancing around like an idiot to Bowie as I went, and that was when I first noticed a car slowly going by me, which turned out to be a cop car. It went up ahead, then turned around and not-at-all subtly drove by me again, checkin’ me out an talking on the police-talking-machine. That was it, though. Didn’t even stop to ask me where I was going. Which is a shame.
I’ll never know if they were looking for someone in particular or if he was just checking out the mysterious trenchcoated scruffy guy walking around at four in the morning, but I do know that by the time that second pass-by happened, I was grinning like an idiot, which probably made me seem insane. Good times.
In other news: Bruise on my knee, don’t know why.
