Milestones

I feel like I've entered a new stage in my aging process. I passed two milestones in my life this weekend. The first one was getting a pair of scissors...a tiny pair of scissors. We're all friends here so we can talk about body hair, can't we? The purpose of the scissors? Trimming too long nostril hairs. Now, having hair growing from one's nostrils is certainly not a new phenomenon for me and I assume for most men. And I've been trimming or yanking them out for a few years now, so that isn't the milestone either. Up till now I have used too big scissors, or nail clippers or any other implement I thought might get the job done. But now, I am the owner of a small pair of scissors whose sole purpose for me is to trim my nose hairs. Does that make me an old man now?

The next milestone has to do with my not very good sleeping abilities and a certain beverage of which I like to drink way too much. Coffee. For the very first time in my life, this evening I ordered a decaffeinated Americano. I've drank de-caf before but in those instances it was either forced on me, given to me unawares, or there was no regular good old caffeinated coffee to be had. Tonight I actually ordered and paid for a decaffeinated coffee of my own accord. Apparently my sleep is now more important to me than my coffee. That may take a little while to sink in. For the record, it tasted alright and no one seemed to notice. As I was up way too late last night and am tired, I don't know that this is a good night to judge whether or not the lack of caffeine affected my sleep at all. That said, I'm off to bed.

Gone Fishing.

Okay, not really. But I am heading back to the homeland for a week and a half. I am on hiatus after all. I intend to visit some good friends in Toronto, then visit my family and go to the cottage. Once there, I intend to read a lot, paddle the canoe around the bay, swim out to the big rock, take naps in the hammock, windsurf, eat good food, but most importantly, I plan to relax on this here deck with a boozy drink in my hand and tasty appetizers before me.

If you need to get a hold of me, you can try. There's a computer nearby, though I probably won't be checking my e-mail. And I sure as hell won't be bringing my cell phone. On second thought, don't even bother.

The Boss

I didn't realise it until very recently, but apparently I am a Bruce Springsteen fan. Nebraska just may be one of the best albums ever. Ever.

That Is A Comedy Too Much Pleasant

I recently acquired a book called "English As She Is Spoke." It has the wonderful subtitle of: Being a comprehensive phrasebook of the English language, written by men to whom English was entirely unknown. And that pretty much sums it up. It was intended to be an English phrasebook for Portuguese travelers. The work is credited to José de Fonseca and Pedro Carolino, though it seems Mr. de Fonseca has been dragged through the mud quite unwillingly and innocently. In 1837 José de Fonseca wrote an apparently perfectly competent French-Portuguese phrasebook. I say apparently as neither my French nor Portuguese is anywhere near competent, nor do I have the book. It was in 1855 that Pedro Carolino set out to write "The New Guide of the Conversation in Portuguese and English, in Two Parts." His problem...he didn't speak English. He did however have two very useful books; an English to French dictionary and... Mr. de Fonseca's phrasebook. Problem solved. The result is, well, the title of this entry for starters. And so many other linguistic gems, at times bordering on the poetic...

Let us go to respire the air.
At what o'clock is to get up?
Apply you at the studying during that you are young.
It is a noise which to cleave the head.
Give me some good milk newly get out.
It is not that very true.
He laughs at my nose, he jest by me.
It must never to laugh of the unhappies.

If that last one isn't a line to live by, I don't know what is. The book ends with a section called Idiotisms and Proverbs. This is where the real pearls of wisdom lie...

Four eyes does see better than two.
What come in to me for an ear yet out for another.
A horse baared don't look him the tooth.
That which feel one's snotly blow blow one's nose.
It must to break the stone for to have almond.
So many head so much opinions.

I could go on and on, quoting the entire book. But I won't. Having take my leave, I was going.

Le Coup De Tête

Watching the World Cup Final on Sunday, I, along with the other billion people that were tuned in, was stunned when Zinedine Zidane turned around and firmly planted his head into the chest of Marco Materazzi, who then dropped like a sack of hammers. I couldn't believe what I had just seen. Had Zidane actually done what I had just seen him do in that slow motion replay? In the World Cup Final? In the final game of his career? Not surprisingly he was red carded and Italy went on to win the final on penalties. Talk of whether or not his sending off influenced the outcome of the game is largely irrelevant as no one can ever know. Which then leaves the question, why did he do it? What put Zidane over the edge? My initial reaction was that Materazzi, no stranger to controversy, had made some sort of racist slur, and there has been much speculation along these and other lines, but despite the various attempts of lip-readers to determine what was said we may never know.
Immediately following Zidane's long walk past the trophy and down the tunnel, there was talk of how Zidane had disgraced himself, shamed himself, destroyed his legacy and so on. I don't condone the violent act, but I'm not sure why people were so surprised by this behaviour coming from a man who was sent off 14 times in his career. Perhaps the setting and occasion did call for a little more decorum which made it that much more dramatic, but for all the footballing mastery and creativity that Zidane has, that darker side has always been a part of his game. He is one of only two players to have been red-carded in two World Cups. Hell, this wasn't even his first headbutt. Which brings us to the talk of destroying his legacy. Except perhaps for a sanctimonious few, this will only add to it. Zidane, one of the greatest footballers to ever play the game, is and will remain a symbol of possibility to millions of people around the world. For a poor kid growing up playing football in the streets of a rough area of Marseille to rise to this level of stardom and adoration, then bow out like this...it's the ultimate "fuck you" from one of the greats. It adds to the mystique of Zidane. People like their heroes to be flawed. To the question of Zidane being a role-model, I would argue that we want our sporting heroes to be competitive and aggressive, yet are then surprised when they act like that outside of a narrowly defined acceptable avenue.
I don't mean to suggest that Zidane planned it like this; I'm pretty sure he would rather his game not have ended in a sending off, but it did. And to me, who absolutely did not want Italy to win the World Cup, this is where it becomes a master stroke...Here it is three days after the Italians won their 4th World Cup, yet outside of the Italian fans and press, almost nobody is talking about them winning. They are talking about Zidane. Legacy assured.

Goalfest At Swangard (or Everybody Loves A Drubbing)

As much as I've been enjoying the World Cup (at least until Tuesday's setback that is), I've got to say that since the knockout stages began there has been a real dearth of goals. I understand that with the stakes being so high, modern football tactics being what they are etc., it's bound to be like that. Seeing two well organized tactical teams play can be fascinating, even exciting , but honestly, it's goals that we want and it's goals that we remember. And though a high scoring closely fought match will be the better game, there is something very satisfying about a good old fashioned ass-whooping. And that is exactly what the Whitecaps Women did last night. When they scored after two minutes I thought, "Well done." When they scored again after four minutes I thought, "It's going to be a long night for the Real Colorado Cougars." (I didn't think the team looked that old.) When they scored yet again after six minutes I thought, "If they can keep scoring at this rate, by the end of the game it will be 45-0." But sadly, they couldn't. They didn't score their fourth goal until the 12th minute and they waited until the 21st minute for their 5th goal. Then they really put the brakes on, and honestly, the game became pretty damn boring. What kind of football fan complains about a boring match when his team is up 5 goals? Happily in the 82nd minute the Whitecaps came to life again, and quickly scored three more before the end of the game. Final score: Whitecaps Women 8, Real Colorado Cougars 0 and a long bus ride home. Apparently, they came all this way just to lose, just to lose...

Back In The Oven

Those of you who remember the tragedy I suffered recently should be happy to know that I am to be numbered once again among those who have pizza stones in one solid piece. Thanks to Ming Wo for exchanging their faulty goods and thanks to Donna for arranging and performing the exchange. And thanks to whoever it was that invented pizza. Unless that person was an Italian, then I'm not sure I can be too thankful towards you yet, as I'm still not quite over Germany being knocked out of the World Cup by the Italians. Perhaps eating pizza is my first step towards healing. Anyway, I made my first pizza with new stone today. The toppings: zucchini, tofu, tomatoes, tomato sauce, garlic stuffed green olives, and mozzarella and cheddar cheeses.A tasty success and as you can see, the stone remains whole.