Television


Much as I like So You Think You Can Dance Canada, having episodes daily, many two hours long, has been a bit onerous. Of course, it’s just the auditions; it’s not really essential viewing. But they just have such a great ratio of actual dancing vs. blah-blah about dance that they’re a bit hard to resist.

Anyway, I’ve finally caught up. Of course, I’m behind on all other TV viewing, but this time of year, that isn’t so much anyway. Sunday they announce “our” Top 20. Let’s just hope CTV doesn’t start making these kids dance (and us vote) twice a week, in order to fit this all in before all the Fall shows come back with new episodes.

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Apart from sitting on the couch watching gorgeous young people sweat through dance numbers, I’ve acquired four new CDs in the last week (and one’s a double CD). Even for me, that’s rather a lot, but when shopping for used stuff, you got to grab it when it comes up.

The one I got totally new, though, and in digital download format only, is Arcade Fire’s Suburbia. Given that the album is number 1 in Canada, US, and Great Britain, guess I’m none too original on that front. But this is my first Arcade Fire album (or song or anything). I just grew intrigued from reading the reviews.

I love that it’s a concept album. I love that the concept is the suburbs, as representing emptiness and loss and waste. I love people barely 30 being nostalgic for the past: “I used to write letters. But by the time we met things had already changed. We used to wait.” (Very Ray Davies and Village Green Preservation Society, that way.) The songs are smart and sound gorgeous. I don’t mind pretentious when it’s backed by talent.

Oh, and a tip: Don’t buy the albums on iTunes. It’s $12 there. Get it directly from Arcade Fire’s website — $8.

My remaining purchases are all of old favorites. With the acquisition of Flash Gordon, I now, finally, own every Queen album. Course, this one is the weirdo, as it really is a movie soundtrack in the old sense of the term: Not a bunch of pop songs that play over montages in the movie, but the actual score that sets the tone and mood of the scenes. So it’s mostly instrumentals, along with bits of movie dialog (and the insanely catchy theme song).

So obviously, not the one to get if you’re only going to buy one Queen album. Or even 10. But within the movie score genre, it’s actually quite good.

And, I finally completed my Lowest of the Low collection by getting their final album, Sordid Fiction. I need to give all these more listens, but so far it appears to be just as good as their first three: same catchy pop with an alternative edge, smart lyrics with plenty of Canadian references.

And den I got The Who: Live at the Isle of Wight. I actually don’t own all of their albums yet—haven’t quite convinced myself I need their first two albums. And not sure how I convinced myself I needed this double CD, given that it already have this on DVD, not to mention that it contains yet another version of Tommy. So I think I have 8 versions of that particular opera, at this point.

And, you know, The Who really were great that night, at 4 in the morning or whatever, performing at the Isle of Wight. The only problem is that this is a very similar set to Live at Leeds. And Live at Leeds is just better, in both performance and sound quality. But at least Wight features the entire concert, in the proper order. That’s something.

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Oh, and one more set of CDs that came into my possession this week is the unabridged (9 CD) audio version of the novel The Wife’s Tale by Lori Lansens. This is courtesy of the author herself, who read my earlier blog post lamenting my difficulty in acquiring the audio version of this book. Isn’t that cool? And the timing is perfect for our upcoming driving trip to Quebec.

You’ve seen The Story of Stuff, yes? The fairly enlightening, partly animated video about how we North Americans all have too much stuff, and why that’s a problem? It has made me think. (99% of what I acquire is discarded within 6 months? Really?) But so far, I don’t think it’s really made me change my behavior.

It’s just so ingrained. Just watch this beautiful justification for why two people having three television sets just isn’t enough….

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Many television series ran their course for the season back in May or so, but we’ve been getting by with season 1 of True Blood (never did develop the love, though), season 1 of Californication (whereas I really did get caught up with all these flawed people), and even finally finishing all my PVR’ed episodes of Flashforward. (And the TV critic who claimed the last episode was confusing and open-ended was an idiot. The last episode wasn’t in the least hard to follow, and the series tied itself up very nicely, leaving some areas open for the future, yes, but hardly to a frustrating extent. The whole thing is recommended for all who like sci-fi, physics, and philosophical questions of will vs. fate, as presented by pretty people.)

But now all those are done, too, so Jean and I have near run out of shows we both like to watch. This is a problem, because we both tend to like to settle down around 9:00 for a bit of TV. What to watch, what to watch, when all I want to do is catch up with So You Think You Can Dance (nestled there on the PVR) but he’s already engrossed in an action thriller on AMC?

What, you only have TV, you ask? Well, no. But the thing, we only have one TV in a location where it’s actually comfortable to sit down and watch it. The second one is in the kitchen, where your only seating option are the high stools at the breakfast bar. Fine for catching the news while preparing and eating dinner, but not so great for settling in for a long watch. (Plus, being that close to the food also leads to way too much snacking.)

And the third? If you can even call that a TV, given that it’s–and I’m serious–a Commodore 64 monitor. So it’s very old and therefore prone to some flickering, and also very small. And, it’s in the exercise room. Being an exercise room, there are no seats in there, unless you count the big weight machine chair. So it’s a great place to play exercise or other videos while exercising. But if you just want to watch TV, you’re kind of stuck with a yoga mat on the floor as “seating”.

This, combined with the grumpiness that comes with the heat and humidity of late, that has led to us arguing over our respective television preferences, and who is to be banished to the uncomfortable upstairs. Adding insult to injury, upstairs person also loses PVR access. Stuck with live TV, with its many, many long commercial breaks (all telling you that you suck and need to buy more stuff)…

So, clearly, we need to put a TV in the living room.

Much like TV in the bedroom, this is something I’ve always resisted, with some idea that the living room should be about “higher” culture like books and music and paintings and conversation.

But one has to be practical. Fact is, it is the only other room in the house with couches and chairs.

But we ain’t putting a TV cabinet in there. So, the thing will have to wall-mounted. And, it’s the living room; it’s going to have to look good. So there’s no question of moving one of the existing extra TVs into that room (and besides, we need them where they are!). Clearly, we need a new TV.

A lovely, sleek, new flatscreen television.

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See how that works? And the lovely new television will, in turn, lead to justifications for high-definition TV receivers and service and PVRs, not to mention BlueRay DVD players and discs. And won’t that mean some sort of sound system upgrade? …

And hence we demonstrate our value in this culture of consumerism.

Usually, after coming back from vacation, there is a daunting pile of TV programming stored in the PVR.

This year, not so much, because our time away corresponded with many shows winding down their season. This means that I haven’t spent all my time back watching television, and can therefore write about it.

Sitcom-land

You know what sitcom I’ve actually enjoyed most this season? This one:

This program has evolved a great deal from its original premise of 40-year-old woman chasing hot young guys (a premise I never found quite as offensive as I was apparently) to an ensemble show about said woman, yes, but now focusing on other relationships in her life: her son, her ex-husband, her friend, her neighbor (and now age-appropriate boyfriend). It’s evolved so much, in fact, they’re considering changing the title.

But the main thing about it is, it’s funny! The occasional episode doesn’t quite work, but it’s when popping, it’s really popping. The cast play off each other wonderfully well.

Unfortunately, two sitcoms I used to really enjoy haven’t had such great seasons. How I Met Your Mother started the season with Robin and Barney together, broke them up in record time—which really disappointed me, as they’d built this up over quite some time—then seemed at a loss for storylines for the rest of the season. Earlier seasons of this show were very enjoyable, but I don’t know if I’ll be tuning in next season.

Similarly, 30 Rock. Unlike Mother, I wasn’t that invested in any particular character or what happened to them. Just found the show often wickedly funny. But it’s often been bordering on dull this season, with Jack’s love triangle and Liz’s lack of love situation and Kenneth not really having much to do.

I don’t know. Maybe I should check out Parks and Recreation. I hear that’s good.

High-concept dramas

I never watched Lost, and I dropped 24, so I can’t comment on either of those high-profile programs. But I have mostly been sticking with Flashforward.

At least, mostly. I don’t know what it is about this show, but I can’t seem to watch it until I have a bunch of episodes stacked for viewing. And the program has really been criticized, but I’ve mostly enjoyed it. Maybe because I watch several in a row? It’s an interesting premise, and it seems to me they’ve been moving it along well and reasonably keeping all their threads in order.

However. It has been cancelled, but that news did not reach the producers until after they shot the final episode. Which, I’ve read, has resulted in a season finale that ties up many loose ends, yes, but also introduces mountains of confusing new complications to set up the then-expected season 2.

So what do I do now, me with my remaining pile of episodes as yet unwatched? Do I see it through even knowing I’ll just be disappointed in the end? Or do I cut my losses now? Oh, such dilemmas.

Glee!

How can I write about TV and not mention Glee, right? Although the amount of hype around its return has been just absurd. And the show has taken some time to find its footing again. The first half-season, though I mostly loved it, was nevertheless marred by some really stupid plotlines, dragged out far too long. The second half had almost an opposite problem: plotlines going by quickly, you could barely see them as they whooshed by. It’s like the show was in a frenzy, trying to cram in as many hit songs and Sue zingers as possible, forgetting that the show really needs to have some heart.

But recent outings have been better. The Joss Whedon-directed episode was almost as great as hoped, the Lady Gaga episode has some really stunning, subtle (of all things) scenes. And it still makes me laugh, and I still like the songs, and Britanny may be the best dumb blonde character ever. Glee!

And over on the cable channels

I somehow miraculously managed to notice that:

  1. Space channel is playing True Blood
  2. Showcase is running Californication

In time to actually watch both shows from episode 1 (or nearly). And so far (I’m near the start of season 1 of both), while I like True Blood, I was kind of expecting to love it. And to be totally into the Sookie and Bill thing–which I’m not. It’s fine that they’re together, but I don’t feel too invested in it. (Plus, I read the first novel, so now I think I know who the killer is.) But I’ll keep watching. Perhaps the love will develop later.

As for Californication–that’s fun! Who knew David Duchovney could be so lively. And damn if he doesn’t still look really sexy.

Thought I might periodically start writing about “a few of my favorite thing”—my own, narcissistic version of Stuff White People Like, I suppose. So I’ll get to PVRs, chocolate, and Zomig eventually, but I’d like to just start with my piano. Which I’ve talked about before, but now I have pictures!

It’s gorgeous to look at. It finishes off the living room very nicely. (That room’s come a long way from its empty desolation when we first moved in with only condo contents.)

But more important, it sounds great. Even though I’m the one playing it, and I’m hardly the world’s most gifted player. When we were shopping for it, I also tried out the smaller, cheaper version in the same brand (the one I’d walked in expecting to buy), and the larger, more expensive one with a million complicated doo-dads. Of the three, this one just had the nicest tones. The piano player’s piano, the salesman said.

So I love playing the thing. I’m having no trouble motivating myself for twice weekly practice sessions, which of course is also contributing to it not sound too bad when I play. I wish I had even more time for it.

In shopping for it, we discovered that we get could  a real piano for less than we paid for this digital one. Not a grand, of course. An upright. A “starter” upright, whatever that means. But we stuck with digital, mainly for not having to tune it, for it being so much lighter and more portable, and for being able to get the look of a grand, without the expense.

But I also like some of the digital features. For example, though I do mostly play in “piano” mode, I can choose between Piano 1 and Piano 2. And though I can’t explain to you the difference between the two, I can hear it, and some songs sound better in one or the other. I also occasionally use the more exotic sounds, like harpsichord for Bach, or strings+piano for, say, The Beatles, or electric piano for Queen’s “Your My Best Friend”. The one thing I’m actually missing a bit from my old keyboard are the synthesizer sounds, but I can somewhat approximate that with some of the weird vibraphone mixes included.

You can also fine-tune things. Like I was finding the touch a little too resistant (after years of playing on a keyboard with no touch sensitivity at all), so I was able to lower that. I can increase the resonance, so the sounds is fuller and richer without me playing any better. And I can take songs in impossible keys, like “Love Reign O’er Me”, which has six (!) flats, and transpose them into another key. Allowing me to play the song as written, except with only three flats (it somehow feels like a song that needs some flats), but it comes out sounding OK, and I can actually get through it.

So yeah, my piano is definitely on the list of things I like.

Something else I like? That Glee is back soon. With Madonna! And Joss! And Neil Patrick Harris! And The Beatles! Squee…

OK, so instead of owning the podium, we just rented the top floor.

(I have to give a CP reporter the credit for that quote.) Wasn’t that fun? The Olympic withdrawal is going to be tough. It’s been the framing device around all events for the past two weeks. Furthermore, that’s been true of almost everyone else. What else does that anymore? Not the Oscars, not the series finale of Lost, not the Superbowl, not even the Stanley Cup.

Big eating weekend

I described last weekend (Feb. 19–21) as my “big eating weekend.” For the Friday, well ahead, we had arranged to meet up with friends at Verses. They were particularly pleased to have meat there. “We’re coming off a month of veganism,” they explained. “If you think vegetarianism is hard? Try veganism.”

Then on the following Saturday, our neighborhood association held a wine tasting dinner at Solé. Solé generally does an excellent job with these, and the featured wine was from Rosewood Estates, which we really like. So we had to sign up for that as well. We ended up sitting with the owner of the winery, who proved to be a very interesting guy, with rather strong opinions about wines of different price points, and the marketing strategies of various regions.

And it was a great meal. It started with their Sémillon, which I judged reminiscent of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, so was pleased when informed that’s what they were going for. It was delicious, as was the smoked trout served with it—amazing stuff, the food highlight of the meal. The main course was chicken with wild mushrooms, and it was served with a Meritage wine. (I was hoping to get their Pinot Noir again, but the 2007 is apparently all sold out.) Dessert featured honey wine, served with an apple caramel tart.

Olympic-wise, that was a pretty quiet weekend. That’s when there was all that grousing about Canada’s performance being somewhat disappointing, which I mostly found irritating. But since we don’t really know our neighbours (and besides the wine people, that’s who was there), it was very handy to have that to talk about.

Shall we dance?

Despite some moments of mild panic—me on the “hockey stick” step (seriously, that’s what it’s called) of the cha-cha, Jean on the intricate shaping of the slow fox—we’re fumbling our way reasonably well through our ballroom dance classes for people who had taken a seven-year break. This week’s class coincided with the Russia-Canada hockey quarter-final, but late arrivals reported on the already lopsided score involved there, and we stopped worrying about that too much.

But our dance instructor wanted to talk about another sport:

“Why did they win?” he asked. After some brilliant responses like, “cause they were good,” the issue of synchronicity came up. “That’s right!” he said. “They danced as though they were one.” Which is what we were all striving for. “And if you practice for 8 hours a day, for 12 years, maybe learn to skate… Who knows?”

That night I planned to finish watching the ladies’ short in figure skating, recorded the night before, but I got distracted by all those other medals by all those other Canadian ladies: gold and silver in bobsled. Silver in short track.

TEDx

The day after dance class, I attended a Waterloo-hosted a TEDx conference. TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design, and the motto is “Ideas worth spreading.” In 21 minutes or less.

The event started by being delayed by technical difficulties. This is when I discovered that I was, apparently, the only person in the room whose iPod was not Touch and whose cell phone was not i.  That is, no portable Internet connectivity for me. So while everyone else tapped away around me, twittering about the delay and receiving updated ladies’ curling scores… I read a magazine. I mean, a dead-tree edition magazine.

There’s some message there somewhere, and I don’t really like it. But at least I didn’t have to worry about any batteries dying.

But once the conference got underway, it did feature some interesting speakers and ideas. Terry O’Reilly from CBC’s The Age of Persuasion on the underrated importance of friction in selling products. An exploration of living architecture (using materials that respond to human touch—a bit freaky). The director of of the documentary Prom Night in Mississippi, who also shared information about how meeting The Beatles played a role in his spiritual awakening. Caroline Disler on how much of “Western” civilization actually comes from the east. And a study of the ecology of restoration, using Sudbury as a model.

And back home, the very good women’s gold medal hockey game! And the equally tough, in their own way, women of figure skating singles. Yu-na Kim perfection, a woman who does triple axels better than many of the men, and Joannie Rochette, showing it’s about more than medals (though it is great she won one).

Timmins wedding

It’s my wedding year, I guess, as we traveled again for a wedding on the weekend, this time to Timmins. But we weren’t on call to do much the Friday night, so after spending some excrutiating time watching the women’s curling final, first with my family, then with Jean’s, we went out to bar with my brother and his wife to get away from sport a bit and listen to some music.

The young singer, Louis-Phillip Sébastien, was quite good. But he was also fighting a cold, so his set was short. Really short. So then the bar turned the TV on the men’s hockey game, which seemed to go pretty well. It was only after getting home we found out that they nearly lost it in the last few minutes.

The wedding on Saturday was lovely, and I think most people had a great time, with lots of dancing. I’m not sure what the attendance would have been had a major hockey game been scheduled that night, but people were content to merely zip into the bar on breaks and report that the men’s curling team were winning gold.

The invitation to the wedding has specified “black and white dress.” On first reading that, I assume that was some other way of saying “dress up nice,” and planned on wearing a fancy black and red dress. But, it turned out that they actually wanted people to dress in black and white. We found this out only late in the game, though, and at that point, I wasn’t too thrilled by the idea of going out to buy a new dress. I just threw in a white throw to cut the effect.

So in case you’re wondering… it is a bit odd being the only person wearing red in the room.

At least I was, until the red sock dance—a weird, franco-ontarian wedding tradition whereby any unmarried older sibling has to, well, dance in red socks. I have no idea why.

The opening of the wedding presents was on Sunday, about an hour before the Gold medal game. We overheard the first period there (knowing by the cheering that it was 1-0), watched the second with Jean’s Mom, and the third and overtime with my family. Scoring with 24 seconds left? Are you kidding me? And then Crosby again scored when it really counted.

While I really think hockey got too much emphasis overall, I must admit that was quite the capper.

Yesterday I enjoyed watching skicross almost as much as snowboardcross, but damn it was tough seeing the Canadian skier (skicrosser?) finish fourth. So many fourths and fifths. And after that way too close match against Switzerland, I had a bad feeling about the men’s hockey game. So I took a break from all that and watched the ice dance.

The theme for this year’s original dancing was folk dancing. This resulted in some mind-blowingly hokey costumes and dancing; think Janine and Phillip’s Russian Folk Dance on So You Think You Can Dance, multiplied by many. But you know? I wasn’t bored.

And then there was the Russians:

Yes. They were pretending to be Aboriginals. Since the above competition, they’ve dropped the dark face in response to criticism. But still, it was awful. Not just because it was tacky and disrespectful. It just wasn’t a good dance. It was not complex, it did not engage you. I was fairly appalled when they were in first place afterward.

(And less upset at the simple fact that they “looked nude!”, but somewhat amused at how upset commenter Rod Black seemed to be about that.)

Fortunately, a couple lovely teams were still to come, dancing perfectly to fantastic choreorgraphy in sophisticated-looking costumes, and knocking the Russians off their pedestal. First were American Davis and White, with a wonderful Bollywood number. Next were Canadians Virtue and Moir, with a dynamic Spanish flamenco. I was so nervous watching them. But they were so good. I had to watch it again today (and somehow still felt nervous, though I already knew there were no screw-ups and they’d ended up first).

In the earlier men’s competition, the big thing was the quad. And whether it was correct that someone who didn’t do the quad won the thing. Same squawking we heard two years ago when Jeffrey Buttle won the world championship, sans quad.

Notice that the only dudes ever complaining about quad-less wins are those who pretty much suck at everything but that? Plushenko, Joubert… Stojko? (Hey, I loved you, Elvis, but you’re being kind of obnoxious these days.)

I watched the top 10 or so guys, and Plushenko did by far the most boring and unattractive skate of them all. Salon described it fairly accurately, I thought:

He lands all of his jumps but looks terrible doing it, then breaks into a funky boogie nightmare that’s just plain ugly, like watching your gawky teenage cousin trying to break-dance.

Maybe the real controversy is not that Lysacek won gold with a skate that was both technically skillful and beautiful to watch, but that Plushenko won silver with the above. Quad-triple notwithstanding.

And finally? I just love Johnny Weir. You go on being fabulous, dude.

While hunting down pairs figure skating this weekend, I learned that I have a channel called Rogers Sportsnet. Channel 74. Who knew? (Have I had this channel a long time? Do I pay extra for it? Mysteries, mysteries.)

It was thanks to figure skating that the upstairs television was therefore left on Rogers Sportsnet when I turned it back on Sunday, whereupon I discovered full, uninterrupted coverage of the men’s snowboard cross yesterday. I had put on the TV as a background to doing something else, but I kept stopping and staring, just riveted by this sport. I don’t remember ever seeing it before. So graceful. So exciting. So unpredictable. And straightforward—the fastest wins, no judges required.

I also just love the snowboarders’ attitudes. It’s cool, man. Let’s party.

So it was very exciting to come home today to the woman’s event. So I caught Maelle Ricker’s gold medal win, live! She ran a really nice race (apparently after barely qualifying).

So congratulations, Ms Ricker, and also Mike Robertson, who won silver in the men’s, passed just in the final moments. And thanks Rogers Sportsnet, for introducing me to snowboard cross. Possibly the best sport there is (at least to watch on TV).

Like two-thirds of Canadians (!), apparently, I tuned into the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics last night. And I even watched it live, and nearly to the bitter end.

They really did a fine job, I thought. I liked the special effects re-creation of the ocean, and the fields, and the mountains (even if it perpetuates the myth that we’re “outdoorsy” country people, when most of us live in cities). And I liked the slam poet, reminiscent of the old “Joe Canadian” ads, but with more eloquence and no beer. (Even though it claimed an environmentalism we don’t deserve. But the rest felt right.) The fiddling medley was lively fun. And man, does this country have a great set of women singers, or what? Nikki Yanovsky, Sarah McLachlan, Joni Mitchell, Measha Brueggergosman, and most especially, KD Lang, actually outdoing her Juno performance of “Hallelujah”.

I liked that the final torch run wasn’t just Gretzky. I liked all the French. And it was appropriate that the tragic death of luger Nodar Kumaritashvili was recognized, and recognized again.

I have some sympathy with Olympic protestors. The IOC is really the most appalling organization. But the athletes… they’re mostly inspiring. They always win me in over in the end.

Finally, live TV meant not fast-forwarding the commercials, and the somewhat dubious sponsors involved. It made this 22 Minutes bit even more hilarious the second time around:

Neil Patrick Harris to “Glee”? With Joss Whedon?
If CBS approves, the “How I Met Your Mother” star would reunite with Whedon in a Joss-directed episode of “Glee” that will air during May sweeps. Harris would take part in a song-and-dance number that was written especially for him.

I have friends who refuse to on some sort of principle to see (or read) some popular culture phenomenon. Harry Potter books and movies. Lord of the Rings books and movies. Titanic. Star Wars. (Although how that particular person managed to have a 70s childhood and 80s teenagehood and still never see Star Wars amazes me to this day.)

Key is that you have never tried to watch or read the thing yourself, and then determined you didn’t like it. No, you just decided, based on what you heard about it, that it wasn’t for you. Then you go to whatever extremes to never see it, no matter how popular.

For me, it’s Twilight. Even its fans admit that the books are, frankly, badly written. Bitch Magazine wrote a scathing overview of it as “abstinence porn”. No movie reviews ever seem to be particular positive. Overall, nothing I want to spend time or money on.

The problem is, though, that because I was a big Buffy fan, a lot of people somehow  think that Twilight would be just my cup of tea. I’ve come within a hair’s breadth of getting the DVD as a gift. I keep being asked my opinion of it. It keeps being recommended to me.

Yes, Buffy had vampires, but that hardly means I therefore enjoy everything with vampires in it. I’ve read no Anne Rice, do not watch Vampire Diaries, and have yet to try anything Sookie Stackhouse (though I know it’s supposed to be good, and I may try it at some point). Vampires were frankly, fairly incidental to my enjoyment of Buffy, because Buffy also happened to have great writing, compelling characters, heavy philosophical undertones, and plenty of humour. None of which, from what I can tell, Twilight shares.

So I was particular delighted to come across this YouTube video, wherein Buffy reacts to the stalkerish Edward in the way he deserves:

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