1. Ottawa Festivals. Only the Ottawa Chamber Music Festival lives up to its own hype.
The rest of the festivals pay only lip service to the music they promote. The Jazz festival tries hard, but even it has succumbed to market forces this year. Elvis Costello is not a jazz musician; he’s only married to one. James Cotton is a bluesman. Robert Plante is a rock God.
The Bluesfest has never been about blues, it’s about money. Sure, you’ll see a few blues acts, but then, you can always go to see James Cotton at the Jazz Fest. And now that Mark Monahan has his grubs on the Ottawa Folkfest, all bets are off.
We might as well call the Festival Season in Ottawa: Who Ever Is Available Festival.
2. The Post Office. Do you miss your mail delivery? Me neither. This strike has been a bonus in so many ways. I now have all my freelance money directly deposited in my bank account.
Bills, I don’t care about.
I’ll pay up with the lights go out.
3. I saw a certain male television presenter at the gymnasty today, and I think he was afraid he’d be recognized because he left before wiping off his machine. He did twenty-minutes of spinning while I was on the rowing machine, then went around the gym the back way. An hour later, when I’d finished my row, he emerged from the men’s locker room. I found him on the sidewalk, hair perfectly quaffed, checking his Blackberry. I felt like smacking him upside the head and saying this: are you too busy to wipe your ass, too?
4. There’s too much rain in this city. I’m thinking of moving to the desert. I thought about it again. Nah, I don’t like scorpions and red necks.
5. Scott’s buying me a laptop today for my birthday.
I’m not getting a tablet.
I hate tablets.
I’m a writer.
I like a keyboard.
I can play Angry Birds, Rio Edition on my IPhone.
6. It’s the Dog’s birthday, yo. Randy Jackson tweeted that he would give out an IPod today to the person who gave him the best idea for celebrating his birthday. I tweeted that he should go into SPACE like all the other rich dogs, with Gordon Ramsay as his boy cooking all his food. I’m waiting for my prize. Meanwhile, happy 55th, man. I’ll be joining you in about a week!
7. Conrad Black is not getting off, not this time. The Arrogant Worm says he expects anything. Meanwhile, he’s mocking the prosecution.
I’m thinking Lordy needs a slap down by Judge Amy St. Eve just as a lesson to keep his mouth shut.
That’s it for now.
I’ll be back when I have something else to write about.