March 4, 2009

The Trouble With TV

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under media
Leave a Comment 

PD*10000606

I am experiencing TV ennui. I am watching the ol’ boob tube less and less, and find myself rejecting shows mid-season. I’ve stopped caring about fictional characters. Can the end of the world be far behind?

Let me be clear – I was never one of those TV Turn-off Week people who thought that television was the bane of humanity. I once lived briefly without a TV, and for a time with only a small black and white set with rabbit ears that was rarely turned on, but I was firm in my opinion that not all television would rot your brain. There was the news and documentaries and shows that were well-written with great plots and detailed character development.

There was also a lot of crap that I would sit through numbly, passively watching, not really caring, but not compelled to change the channel or get up and do something better.

Sometime in the past year or so, though, I’ve become more discerning. A show needs to really speak to me to keep my interest. Oddly, soon after I bail on a once-favourite show, it begins to tank. The first to go for me this year was Heroes. I gave up after only a few episodes. Then it started tanking in the ratings. Ugly Betty was the same way, and while I felt bad about abandoning Betty and the gang, the writing was just going down the crapper. Again, it dropped in the ratings as others saw the same flaws that I did. And I only made it a few shows into season 3 of Dexter before I started wishing the lead character would take his signature scalpel to his annoying whiny girlfriend.

Part of the problem is my perfectionist nature and photographic memory – I’m still into this season of Damages, but because it wasn’t filmed chronologically, I’ve become obsessed with Glenn Close’s hair. First it’s long, then short, then long again – it’s driving me nuts. Big Love is also beginning to infuriate me, if only because this season seems to have gotten all crazy religious. And yes, the characters are crazy religious, but I don’t recall quite so much praying in previous seasons.

Even the mindless stuff seems, well, mindless. I can’t even justify my secret shame of America’s Funniest Home Videos anymore. I can’t be arsed to sit through all the stupid drooling kids, ball to the groin and trampoline footage for the 3 or 4 minutes of funny animal stuff. Sorry dogs and cats, but it’s more productive to just teach my own pets silly tricks.

There are still a few I’m holding on to; The Simpsons will always have a place in my heart, if only for the obscure pop culture references the writers sneak in there. Also The Office. I’ve never really been into reality shows other than a season or two of The Amazing Race and Hell’s Kitchen, and I haven’t bothered watching those at all this season, although I will probably check out the Marco Pierre White series that starts next week, just because, well, it’s Marco.

Even with food shows, it seems what I’m watching is not your typical boobalicious FoodTV bobble head, but is more stuff about seasonal eating and gardening and food politics. Most of these run on the UK channels, so they’re more difficult to access, but at least they require the viewer to think a little bit about what they’re watching.

I just can’t tell if it’s that TV is really sucking or if I’ve just become too picky. I’m not one of those people who equate being busy with being important, but more and more I feel like I don’t have the time to waste on something that isn’t going to make a difference in my life somehow.

Which probably means I’m expecting an awful lot out of the old idiot box – more than it can deliver.

 

March 2, 2009

How Do You Handle an Emergency?

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under people are silly, real life
[2] Comments 

This morning while waiting for a bus in front of my building, I heard a huge thud from the street. I turned around to see a car stopped in the centre lane and a girl on her hands and knees in the curb lane. Immediately the driver began screaming, even before he got out of the car. He made no effort to help her up, he just stood there in hysterics, screaming and crying.

The young woman made no noise at all as she tried to get enough breath to contemplate getting up. Another bystander and I rushed to help her. We checked to see if she was able to stand, directed the driver to move his car to the curb, and held her steady as she got to her feet. Through it all she was stoic, resistant even, wanting only to be on her way to her original destination. We tried to convince her to let us call an ambulance, to at least let the paramedics check her out. We urged her to stay and give a statement to police. She would have none of it, only promising to visit a doctor so that I’d leave her alone, and the other bystander walked her across the street and into my building where she was headed.

Meanwhile the driver continued to flip out. Through the conversation with the girl, I was also trying to calm the driver down. He stood there, screeching, “I’m sorry! Oh my God!” over and over again. It took me asking two or three times to find out if he had a cell phone. Four times I told him to call 911 while he fiddled with the phone, putting it back in his pocket and then pulling it out again. He never did place the call (no one else at the scene had a cell phone on them), and as the girl left the scene, he stood there wondering what to do.

People’s reaction to shock varies widely. Some people go silent, their response to flee the strongest thought in their head; “just get away…” Others, like the driver, go into hysterics. These are the people you don’t want to be in an emergency with. They’re useless in terms of getting anything done and they often needed to be yelled at, or even slapped, to get them to think clearly.

I’m in the third group – the hyper-aware, remember your training, cover all your bases kind of person.

A few years back when I fell in the front driveway of our house and broke both my arm and my nose, I stood in front of the house barking directions at Greg. First, call 911, I can’t possibly get in a cab with this much blood gushing from my nose. Then, get me a towel. Next, call and cancel your plans. Finally, take the dogs out for a pee before the ambulance comes, because we might be gone for hours, and on your way out grab my other pair of eyeglasses (the ones I was wearing were smashed), and my purse, and make sure my health card is in my wallet.

Then, like today, my mind was clear and eerily calm. Everything was measured and purposeful. My brain ticked through a list of what to do and what not to do.

My first words to the girl as she knelt in the street were, “Are you able to move and get up or do you want us to help you lie down?” Don’t move an injured body. To the driver – “Get your phone, call 911.” Always report an automobile accident, even if there is no injury or damage. To the girl again, “You have to get checked out, you may have internal injuries.” Something just kicks in, and logic takes over.

I’m glad that I’m the type of person who deals with emergencies through logic. Getting up and walking way after having been hit by a car is utterly stupid, even if you are in shock. And standing in the street having a crying jag doesn’t help anything, especially if you’re not the one who is hurt. Everyone deals with shock differently, but only one way of doing things makes the situation any better.

 

February 10, 2009

Sidewalk Cacti

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under flora and fauna, toronto
1 Comment 

cacti

Sunday had a lot of people out strolling in the nice weather but Toronto is still pretty grey and dirty-looking. This array of cacti made for a really bright spot on an otherwise drab sidewalk.

 

February 3, 2009

Spread Thin

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under media, people are silly, writing
[4] Comments 

I can’t help but wonder if I’m the only person who feels that they’re spreading themselves too thin when it comes to social networking. I don’t even use that many services but I still find myself having trouble keeping up with them all, or feeling guilty for not updating, uploading, re-friending or taking part in the current meme. If I do try and be social online then it eats into the time I have for doing real work.

This goes back to two things, I think – my desire for more interesting writing and reading in the form of slow blogging, and a serious hate-on for Twitter. Both stem from a desire for a lower signal to noise ratio, which probably comes from being old and crotchety and remembering when everyone used dial-up, and therefore people actually made an effort to make what they had to say meaningful. Adding a comment like “Me too!” to a thread on Usenet could send you to the hospital with third degree burns from the flames that would be directed your way.

Now, that mindless chatter seems to be the internet norm, and if you’re not offering ongoing commentary on every single thing -  “It’s raining.” “Oh, now it’s stopped” – then you’re not interesting.

Recently a few different people have asked us to create a TasteTO twitter feed so they can “follow” us. I have no idea what that means – follow us where? Also, I have no idea what people would expect us to write on Twitter about. The day to day details really aren’t that exciting.

Are we supposed to twitter about new posts being up? Why can’t people just go to the site and check? Or read us via an RSS feed? Most of our posts are pre-set to publish at certain times – I’m not always home to send out a notification for something like that. And I don’t use my cell phone (if I even have it on me – it’s on my desk more than it’s in my purse) for texting (damn these large thumbs!) so it’s not as if I’d remember (or care) to stop what I’m doing while out to send out a reminder to people.

Do they want to know where we’re eating and where we’re going? Why? And what do I do about the two or three individuals we’ve deemed official “creepy stalkers” who would surely use that information to show up and try to join us? Such a demand really seems like an invasion of our privacy.

Is it that people want to know about the process of what we do? Again, I can’t understand why – it’s pretty boring, and when there is exciting stuff, it’s not really appropriate to talk about (like the food writer we once witnessed grab a manager at a restaurant opening and demand “Do you know who I am??”). There’s good stuff in that respect but we need to face these folks over the hors d’oeuvre platter so we can’t really dish the good dirt.

More and more, I’m finding myself with a desire to trim and streamline and keep everything orderly. That’s my nature anyway, but the more of these things that are created, the more I feel as if I’m not really connecting with anyone anyway. It all seems so shallow.

I know great relationships can be created on the Internet – I have a number of really wonderful friends that I’ve known online for years – some of whom I’ve never met in person. But our connection came about from years of sharing common interests, as well as thoughts and ideas – not from inane 120 character chatter. At this point in my life, I’d rather concentrate on having real relationships with a few people who are dear to me than have vapid interactions with strangers. and the idea of people “following” me on Twitter just makes me incredibly uneasy.

 

January 30, 2009

There Probably Is No Bus, Now Stop Worrying and Enjoy the Ride

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under real life, spirituality, toronto
[2] Comments 

athiest-busI was gleeful at the news yesterday that the TTC had approved the atheist bus ads that have been running in the UK. And then less impressed by the response from both the media and the public.

How is it that when a Christian organization runs an ad on a bus, we’re all supposed to accept it as their right to free speech, yet when an ad runs supporting another belief system, it’s “disgusting”? The TTC has stated that it would be illegal for them to refuse the ads but added a caveat that they would consider removing them “if there are complaints”. And how long will it take before complaints are filed?

The group behind the ads, the Freethought Association of Canada, simply wants to open a dialogue, yet so many people have already come out with small-minded comments that preclude any kind of conversation.

Which, from a personal standpoint, is part of why I became an atheist in the first place. Because most organized religions seem unable to accept differing points of view, and have been brainwashed taught into thinking that only their version is the right one, that only the people who follow their doctrine will make it to the afterlife – without even knowing if an afterlife exists. They can’t all be right, can they? The logical conclusion then (and note I’m stressing the word logical here) is that the probably isn’t a God. And yet – the world hasn’t stopped spinning. Imagine that.

 

January 23, 2009

The Lights Are On, But No One’s Home

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under environment, government, health, wtf?
[4] Comments 

lightbulbWithout being too preachy about it, I consider myself to be an environmentalist.

Since the early 90s in fact, the last time it was cool to go green.

I’ve been using the same cloth bags to carry my groceries home since that time. I don’t use a clothes dryer. I don’t drive a car. I don’t travel especially much in general. I use things until they break down and then I have them repaired if possible. I put a sweater on rather than turn on the heat. I eat a mostly vegetarian diet (at home, at least) and I buy local produce whenever possible. My environmental footprint, while not as small as it could/should be, it about 1/4 of the average North American’s,even when you take into consideration that I will not give up my incandescent light bulbs.

Yeah, I know – compact fluorescent bulbs are supposed to be the Western world’s easy, no-fuss solution to cutting back on their energy usage. Environmentalists talk about them like they’re the second coming of Jeebus and governments are drafting legislation that would require their use, with incandescents being phased out.

Now, studies are showing that the compact fluorescent bulb could be emitting UV radiation. Sitting too close to one could give people a sunburn. There’s talk of issues with exposure to electromagnetic fields.

Maybe it’s a stupid question, but didn’t anyone think to test these things before we started forcing people to use them? If they’re making people sick, then the energy savings really isn’t that much of a priority, is it?

I’ve already had illness issues stemming from compact fluorescents; attempting to read by the light from one of these bulbs, even sitting more than the suggested 30cm away, gives me terrible migraines. My eyedoctor has offered to write me a prescription so I can continue to use incandescent bulbs once the provincial bylaw comes into effect, but I’ve been warned that I might have a hard time finding them.

So now, I buy incandescent lightbulbs every time I go to the grocery or hardware store. The nice ones with the blue Daylight tint. I’m stockpiling, although I know they won’t last forever. At some point I’ll have to look into the lightbulb black market. But I’m not going to risk my health by exposing myself to lightbulbs that make me sick. I don’t care how many carbon emissions they save.

You can have my incandescent bulbs when you pry them from my cold, dead hands.

 

January 14, 2009

Shocked

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under government, pets, toronto, weather, wtf?
Leave a Comment 

I walked along Queen Street yesterday, searching the sidewalks for hydro plates. They’re plentiful, but inconspicuous, one of those things you never even notice until you go looking for them, but then they’re everywhere. A 10-inch round metal disk, set into the outer third of the sidewalk about 4-5 feet from every hydro pole so workers can access wiring for each street light, they’re unavoidable as you walk down the street.

And Toronto has somewhere between 30,000 and 40,000 of them, all of which they plan to check for what they’re calling “stray voltage” after a 2nd dog was electrocuted yesterday from stepping on one with wet feet.

As a dog owner, this scares the beejeezus out of me. Particularly in the fact that they call it “stray” voltage because it’s not always there to find. After the first dog was killed in November, all the poles and plates in the area were supposedly checked, but the spot where the dog was killed yesterday was across the street from where the first incident took place. That metal plate was checked and was found to be fine with no problems. So how can we trust that any of these plates are safe?

They don’t expect it would kill a human; rubber-soled shoes and boots, plus less contact with the ground (dogs usually have at least 2 legs on the ground), mean that people who have gotten shocked from that plate received a jolt but weren’t injured, but for a dog it’s a different situation.

And while this is the first time something like this has happened in Toronto, news reports are mentioning similar incidents in other large cities like Chicago, New York and Boston, where it’s actually being taken seriously – the hydro department in Boston is replacing all the metal plates with plastic ones.

The scariest part is that there’s nothing people can do to protect their pets, other than not take them for walks in the rain or when there’s wet snow or slush on the ground.

I have a habit of making the dogs walk on the inside, putting myself between then and traffic, just in case. Now I have an even better reason for that tactic – to keep them from walking on hydro plates in the sidewalk and getting electrocuted.

[EDIT- January 24th: Two more occurrences in different parts of the city have caused dogs to be injured but not killed by stepping on metal hydro plates. Toronto Hydro announced plans yesterday to replace all the plates with either rubber, plastic or fibreglass ones (depending on which news source you consult) by the summer. This doesn't really help Toronto dog owners for the rest of the winter season, but hope is in sight.]

 

December 29, 2008

Slow It Down

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under writing
[2] Comments 

Blogs are dead – long live the blog.

Yeah, I know, I’m slow to catch on sometimes. In reality, blogs aren’t dead, and probably won’t ever be now that they’ve become a part of the mainstream media, but the way people use blogs is changing. Twitter and Facebook have had a lot to do with this, but it’s not a stretch to include the idea that bloggers have just run out of things to say. Life is cyclical and unless you’re the type of person who is constantly trying new things, annual events and milestones recorded in a blog begin to look the same, especially to someone on the outside.

The “death of the blog” is likely to divide bloggers into two camps; the folks who bought into blogs as a social networking device, and who have since moved on to other, easier, quicker systems, and the “Slow Blog” fans for whom blogging is about the process of writing, editing and general thoughtfulness.

Slow blogging, based on the same premise as the Slow Food movement, is something I’ve apparently been espousing for years without even knowing it. I shut down my LiveJournal account recently because I really wasn’t feeling satisfied with the day-to-day updates about what my friends had eaten for lunch, or bought at the mall, or their terrible day at work. I found my own journal had become a depository for ranting and bitching – posts made without any thought given to whether they’d be interesting to read.

Slow blogging doesn’t mean to type slowly; it doesn’t even necessarily mean a decrease in the number of posts or in the overall quantity, although that tends to happen as slow bloggers wait until they have something they feel is meaningful to say before creating a post. Slow blogging, to me, is more about interesting, creative, thoughtful writing that inspires or provokes thought or discussion. Slow bloggers care about their message, not page ranks or hit statistics. I’d also guess that they are more likely to care about grammar, punctuation and tone.

Over on TasteTO, where we try to post 2 to 3 articles a day, writers are encouraged to take time with their posts, to check facts, to follow up interviews and to be organized enough that they get the piece written before their submission deadline so that they can set the piece aside for a day or two and come back to it with fresh eyes. The writers who do this invariably turn out better work, and the ones who are always late, rushing, and frantic are the ones who hand in stuff that is rife with factual mistakes, bad grammar and a tone so harried and sloppy that it’s obvious it was a rush job. It becomes a chore on a list, not a process that is at all joyful.

Does slow blogging create pressure to constantly turn out pearls of wisdom? Perhaps. But it also, in the long run, makes better writers – and editors. Not everything we have to say is going to be lauded as spectaular or earth-moving; and sometimes people are more interested in connecting on a more superficial basis, which is where systems like Twitter and Facebook work extremely well. But if bloggers stop making the effort to write decently, if we succumb to the urge to say everything in short blasts of 140 characters, then connecting actually becomes much more difficult. Our language dies. Our brains rot. We end up living in a world of immediate gratification and never feel the pride and accomplishment of creating a piece of writing worth reading.

 

December 24, 2008

Number 5

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under fashion, memories, toronto
[2] Comments 

chanel5I haven’t worn perfume for years. Nothing scented really, if I can help it, unless it’s of the all-natural essential oil variety. Allergies and chemical sensitivity see to it that pretty much anything with fragrance gives me a splitting headache.

I don’t mind this especially, as I think most people who wear scent wear far too much of it, but there are a few perfumes that I love and would love to be able to wear again.

At the top of this list would be Chanel No° 5.

I wore Chanel when I first moved to Toronto in the late 80s. Chanel was huge in the club scene then and the perfume was the closest I was ever going to get to a suit or a bag. It was a glamorous scent, not overwhelming, pretty but also mysterious.

I went through perfume phases and had a few favourites after I abandoned Chanel up until I had to stop wearing all fragrances or risk making myself sick. I hadn’t thought about that lovely square-cut bottle for years.

But recently I was walking through the Bay, carefully avoiding the perfume department, when I exited through one of the original art deco foyers. All white stone and silver handrails, I love this seldom-used entrance because it is so evocative of the 20s when the store was built as the Simpson’s flagship location. Every other part of the store has been renovated on an almost-yearly basis, but ths staircase remains the same, right down to the grooves worn into the stone of the treads.

For the holidays, they had set up a huge display of Chanel No° 5; the scent filled the air. My first thought was to be angry (sometimes it feels like I can’t ever get away from other people’s perfume), but then my brain started doing flip-flops and memories came rushing back. Dancing to “Low Rider” in the basement of the Tasmanian Ballroom in that 50s black silk dress I had scooped from work; drinking Absolut before heading out to Komrads with my boys; a pair of huge hoop earring with iridescent marbles attached to them that I wore constantly; fries and sangria at the Bloor Street Diner.

I stood for a moment, looking up at the war memorial in the foyer that commemorates Simpsons employees in the first and second world wars, and just let the scent waft over me. I was tempted, ever so briefly, to ask the clerk for one of those scent strips they’re normally trying to jam in my face when I zip through the perfume department, but thought better of it. I was even tempted to buy some, I have no idea why, although I knew I could never actually use the stuff.

It’s a different life now, I’m not that same girl. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, want to go back. But just for one minute, grasping that art deco railing and reading the names of the dead, I was 19 again.

 

December 18, 2008

Do Coincidences Travel in Packs of Three?

Posted by Sheryl Kirby under fashion, films, memories, personal history, real life
Leave a Comment 

broochThere’s a book called The Celestine Prophecy, a novel based on some new age spirituality, mostly rooted in some old spirituality. This post is not about that book, which has a number of detractors, as well as a number of fans, although having read the book, it’s what I tend to think of when coincidences occur.

Basically the premise of the book is based on 9 spiritual insights. The Third Insight – A Matter of Energy – is based on the theory that there are no coincidences, that things or people come to us because of a draw of energy, and the more times a theme occurs, the more attention, or energy, we need to focus on it.

No doubt every person has had the experience where something will come up in conversation, and then a day or so later, it will come up again. The phrase “speak of the devil” works on the same premise – you can be having a conversation about someone and then they’ll unexpectedly appear. These things happen all the time, but when they start happening in groupings, then it begins to get a little weird.

Coincidence #1 – The Brooch
In the summer of 1985, I spent a long weekend with my friend Toby and her family at their cottage in Economy, Nova Scotia, on the shore of the Bay of Fundy. The town is just outside of Parrsboro, and the whole area is known for rich deposits of amethyst which can only be accessed when the huge Fundy tides are out. During that visit, I bought a brooch at a roadside craft shop. The brooch is shaped like a painter’s palette, with little chips of semi-precious stones to represent the daubs of paint. I’ve had it 23 years and have never worn it – the stones are prone to falling off and I’ve never really considered myself a brooch person – until recently when I added it to the lapel of a brocade jacket. I wore this jacket (and brooch) out to dinner earlier this month at the new restaurant at the AGO where I met Melissa, one of the writers at TasteTO. She immediately remarked on the brooch and I told her the story of how I had bought it, and a little bit about the town and the amethyst deposits. We had some time to kill before our reservation and so wandered around the gift shop. I ended up in the children’s section and picked up an illustrated atlas of Canada. I flipped open to the map of Nova Scotia and not only was Parrsboro marked on the map (which never happens) but there was a coloured sketch of a chunk of amethyst.

Coincidence #2 – The Libertine
I never watch Saturday Night Live, but Greg downloaded a recent episode because John Malkovich was the host and he knows I’m a big fan. In typical SNL fashion, it was a bad episode, and we got to talking about some of the duds Malkovich had appeared in over the years, but also some of the stuff that was under-rated or ignored, such as Ripley’s Game (the sequel to The Talented Mr. Ripley), and The Libertine, which starred Johnny Depp as well as Malkovich. The Libertine had lagged in post-production for years and had no promotion, and spent all of a week in theatres when it was finally released. But it was quite brilliant – Depp’s character dies of syphilis and his final scenes are extremely graphic. I remarked to Greg that I’d really like to see the film again. The next day, we were at Zellers picking up a few things and Greg started rifling through a bin of crappy DVDs. And pulled out… a copy of The Libertine.

Coincidence #3 – Quality Street Tins
On December 8th, I made a post to Save Your Fork about Christmas food memories, and one of the things I mentioned was the tins of Quality Street chocolates that my Grandmother always received. That same day, before the post was published, my Mom packed up a box of Christmas presents and baked goods for me. She put the baked goods in two old Quality Street tins.

I don’t know if this series of coincidences means anything. I don’t know if they’re happening for a reason or if I’m just finding them because I’m more attuned to them in general… or maybe they are just what they appear to be, simple coincidences. Heck, if I’m feeling especially superstitious, maybe I’ll just assume that they come in groups of 3 and I’m done. But they’ve all been very pleasant occurrences that have brought, at minimum,  a smile to my face, so I’ll just be thankful for the positive “energy” (if you want to call it that), and hope for more.

 

« Previous Page — Next Page »