Month: February 2010

Of nudes and natives, quads and quirks: Olympic figure skating

Yesterday I enjoyed watching ski cross almost as much as snowboardcross, but damn it was tough seeing the Canadian skier (ski crosser?) 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:

Russian ice dancers dressed as Aboriginals.

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.

Snowboard cross: The best sport there is!

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).

Soundtrack to Valentine’s Day

Billboard Magazine has compiled a list of the 50 sexiest songs of all time. It’s Billboard, so the criteria is sales—the more of those, the higher the position in their chart. And which songs qualify to be counted? Apparently, those who subject matter is sex (even with oneself, as “She Bop” makes the list). So the results are kind of bizarre, unless your idea of great romantic evening is listening to Olivia Newton’s John “Physical” (number 1!), Anita Ward’s “Ring My Bell” (number 17), or Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” (number 37). Topped off with “She Bop”, I guess (number 49).

We aren’t doing too much for Valentine’s Day this year—just dinner at home, probably with some nicer wine, and a dessert featuring chocolate. But if we can tear ourselves away from the Olympics for a bit, we may put on some “mood” music. Which would not include any of the above songs (or other entries like “Smack That”, or “Sledgehammer”, or “Afternoon Delight”), but might—iPod shuffle willing—include the following (links to YouTube videos of song, where available):

1. I Need You Tonight – INXS

Featuring an intensely erotic vocal performance by Michael Hutchens, possibly the sexiest rock star ever, only highlighted by his charismatic video performance.

“So slide over here / And give me a moment”

2. A Case of You – Diana Krall

Her Bourbon-soaked voice ideally suits this classic, poetic Joni Mitchell song. Blew me away completely the first time I heard her do this (on her husband’s show).

“And I could drink a case of you / And still be on my feet”

3. Save the Last Dance for Me – Ben E. King

An oldie but a goodie, with another sensuous vocal performance. (Background story is apparently that Ben E King was wheelchair-bound and could not dance with his wife himself.) Doesn’t hurt that it was used as the prom dance soundtrack for Justin and Brian on Queer as Folk.

“But don’t forget who’s talking you home / And in whose arms you’re going be”

4. Without Your Love – Roger Daltrey

I do find Roger Daltrey’s husky-to-sweet-and-back-again voice kind of sexy (big surprise, I know), but The Who sure isn’t one for uncomplicated songs of love. Or lust. So it’s kind of refreshing to hear that voice wrapped around one (as I’d probably find it too mooshy if sung by anyone else).

“I could forget my home / Be like a rolling stone / But what would it mean, without your love?”

5. Temple – Jane Siberry

Known mostly for quirky tunes like “Mimi on the Beach” and “Everything Reminds Me of My Dog”, Siberry is probably one of the last artists you’d think of coming up with something so sensual. But from the opening, whispered “gimmes”… wow.

“You call that rough? Well it’s not… rough enough”

6. I’m in Love with My Car – Queen

I know, I know. This one is weird. It’s a completely un-sarcastic song about a guy so taken with his car, he doesn’t want or need a girl. (Or a boy.) But with its driving 6/8 beat and the sheer passion behind Roger Taylor’s singing, it’s just, somehow, very hot. (Much hotter than Queen’s actual songs about sex, like “Get Down, Make Love” or “Body Language” or — God forbid — “Fat Bottomed Girls”.) I don’t think cars are sexy, but this song makes me understand that other people do. They really do.

“When I’m holding your wheel / All I feel is your gear / When my hand’s on your greasegun / Oh, it’s like a disease, son”

————–

That’s enough for now. I’ll be in my bunk.

Join the majority

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:

Of hams and Whos

So this was a Sunday of firsts. Not only my inaugural viewing of a Superbowl half-time show, but also my first attempt at cooking one of those big, big hams with the bone in it.

I’ve always been a mystified by ham-like meats and their various grocery store names—why is one a “sweet pickle roll” while another is a “steak” and that one there is “smoked hock”? But anyway, whatever the actual name, the big ones with the bone, that are not precooked, were on at a very good price at Sobey’s this week, so I decided to take a stab at cooking that. How hard could it be?

I had assumed it would be like other big hunks of meats, in that you flavored the outside somehow, then stuck it in the oven at a certain temperature for 2+ hours, until the middle part reached the acceptable temperature. To my surprise, though, the package for this thing said it was to be cooked on the stove top in water (for 2+ hours).

Well, thank goodness I still have that huge pasta pot I received as a wedding present and have rarely used since, because it just fit in there. The wrapper then instructed me to remove the wrapper before I cooked it in the water. Boy, what kind of an idiot does this wrapper think I am anyway, I thought, as I removed the plastic and discovered that the meat was in this other mesh-like wrapper. Was I supposed to remove that one?

“Jean! Help!”

Jean called for reinforcements. Since his Mom left the mesh on, so would I.

The instructions then said to cover the meat in cold water, then cook it over low heat for 2 to 2.5 hours, til it reached 71C. Seemed easy enough, so I did as told.

An hour later when I checked, the water was warmish but not bubbly or anything. That seemed a bit odd, but what did I know? Another half hour later, there was some simmer going, and I started working on the scalloped potatoes (which I actually know how to make).

As those went in the oven, I got the bright idea of actually sticking a meat thermometer in the meat to see how it was doing. It was nowhere near 71C. It was at, like 27, or something. And here I was, kind of hoping to eat this thing today.

I now did what I have to assume I was supposed to have done in the first place, which is bring the water to a full boil, then reduce heat to a nice simmer. That did get the temperature moving up a bit quicker. But not really quickly enough.

As microwaving didn’t seem to be much of an option, I was at a bit of a loss as to how to accelerate the cooking time.

“Jean! Help!”

Jean’s suggestion, which I had sorted gleaned onto also, was to cut the big hunk of meat into smaller hunks, figuring each would cook faster that way.

And faster it did go, finally finishing about 3.5 hours after starting, and about 0.5 hours after the scalloped potatoes and braised cabbage with cranberries were done. But that wasn’t so bad. And everything was really very tasty. (Thank goodness, because I think we’re going to be eating the leftovers for the next week or two.)

So in the background of this kitchen drama, as of 6:45 or so, was The Superbowl. Muted. (Yes, I have a TV in my kitchen. Doesn’t everyone?) So I was able to look up to it every once in a while, between fretting about meat temperature, to see the first two quarters count down.

Though I needn’t really have worried, because as the second quarter wound down, I got not one but two calls informing me of the impending halftime show. It’s so nice to have people in your life who care! And who actually want to watch The Superbowl. And by then, we were actually done eating dinner (though not putting away all the leftovers).

I went downstairs where the PVR lives and put it on Superbowl channel. Only the sound was all broken up. That wasn’t going to work. So I tried other Superbowl channels – CBS, maritime, BC. Then other, non-Superbowl channels.

Basically, the sound was a fubarred anywhere. With about 2 minutes left in the second quarter, the PVR needed a reboot.

So while it reset itself, I watched the countdown on the kitchen TV. With about 10 seconds left, the PVR was back, sound restored to normality.

I then sat with the remote, planning to hit the record when The Who actually began their set. Only, it had been so long since I actually recorded anything playing live (I normally preset everything I plan to watch), I didn’t really know how to do that. Which I only realized as their set began.

“Jean! Help!”

Jean managed the highly complex [not] process of recording what was currently on (and we later remembered that it actually tapes everything from when I first tuned to that channel, so I actually have the whole thing).

And then we watched The Who—me a little more closely than Jean.

Jean [during Baba O’Reilly]: Is that all they’re doing of that one? Me (feeling weirdly proud that he now knows when Baba O’Reilly is shortened): Yeah, it’s medley.

The set list was utterly unsurprising. They only have 12 minutes. Of course they’re going to play all the CSI themes, somehow. It certainly would have been nice to hear more of their catalog, and it might have been interesting (or an interesting disaster) if they’d actually tried to “mash up” some of their songs (and come to think of it, they used do that very thing, live … quite brilliantly). But again… 12 minutes.

Jean [during Who Are You]: You must disappointed he’s wearing a shirt. Me: Yeah, and no wardrobe malfunctions this year.

The outfits: Though still in remarkably great shape for nearly 66, I don’t actually think Daltrey should still go out in full bare chest-al glory anymore. So the jacket was fine, but that scarf? I don’t really get his fondness for scarves, unless he feels having a warm neck actually helps with singing, or something. (And some bloggers are complaining about seeing Townsend’s “white tummy” far too often—which I can’t say I particular even noticed!)

Jean: [during Won’t Get Fooled Again]: Wow, I’m impressed how fast they set that stage up. Me: Did you know The Who pioneered the use of lasers in rock concerts?

The staging was pretty awesome. The light show, the fireworks—it looked great on TV, it must have looked fantastic in the stadium.

As to the overall performance? Though a bit sloppy at times, I thought they were pretty good, generally. Mind, I wasn’t expecting them to sound like they did in 1971. It was fun to hear the big stadium singing along with them. Knowing that Daltrey’s voice is a thing of wonkiness these days, I was actually tense waiting for him to attempt the “Won’t Get Fooled Again” scream. But to my relief, that was great! (Though it may well be the years of doing that scream that has reduced his voice to what it is now…)

I did a bit of review reading afterward. What I found most weird were the accusations, at Rollingstone.com, that they lip-synced the entire performance. (This is not in the review, but in the dreaded comments section.) I’m with those who said, you know, if the whole thing was pre-recorded, don’t you think it would have been a little… better?

And my favourite review is the fairly poignant one in the New York Times, some of which I’ll quote below:

Instead, for what was probably its biggest one-time viewing audience, the Who chose repertory from Townshend’s increasingly ambitious late-1960s albums and afterward, when he was already taking a grown-up’s point of view: “Pinball Wizard” and the gentle “See me, feel me” snippet from his 1969 rock opera “Tommy”; “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” from the 1971 “Who’s Next”; and the title song from the 1978 “Who Are You.” If there was a 21st-century attention-span paradox in having the man who wrote rock operas and concept albums compress his life’s work into 12 minutes — well, Townshend said beforehand that the medley was Daltrey’s idea.

They were songs about prowess, determination, desperation and rage at how revolutions fail: an arc of verbal frustration defied, and explosively overcome, by musical assertiveness, with the power chords that the Who made ring worldwide. They were songs that expected, and got, large audiences at the time. It was music born to be heard in arenas and stadiums, and the halftime show might have been these songs’ last airing on their accustomed monumental scale.

…

The Who did its best to punk up its songs again, even amid the Super Bowl’s fiesta of corporate branding, and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” — the song that got the fullest airing — still had a good part of its old ferocity. But it was a line in “Baba O’Riley” that touched on what kind of milestone this brief, happily unkempt, late-career performance was for the Who. “Let’s get together before we get much older,” Daltrey sang, looking directly across the stage at Townshend.

PS – I also quite liked this blog post [link no longer valid, unsurprisingly], which (despite not containing nearly enough information about ham) nicely made the point that while The Who’s Superbowl performance was mostly fine, they’re just doomed now by having once been the best live band. Period. I especially liked this line: “The Who are probably the most underrated band that many people consider wildly overrated.”

The Music of Fleetwood Mac

This was the theme of our latest Jeans’n’Classics concert: The Music of Fleetwood Mac. Our original guests had to bow out, so we attended with Camie and Frasier instead. As with the previous concert, and despite some lobbying for the new Mexican place (Margaritas), we went to Uptown21 first.

Once again, they did a great job. We all went for the day’s three-course prix fixe menu, three of us with matching wine (Camie had Shiraz). The first course of duck confit and wild mushroom was fabulous. The other option, grilled shrimp, also looked very nice. Next up was either a root-vegetable soup, which got some raves, or a salad with apple, sugared pecans, and cheddar in a balsamic vinaigrette. Very good. And the main course choices included lamb with vegetables (Jean), trout with vegetables, a vegetarian option, and something I can’t remember. But my trout was well prepared.

We also enjoyed the company. We discussed Austen (the author, not me misspelling the city), university funding, travel plans, the joys of home renovation, the Olympics, and the last time we’d listened to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors. Though not necessarily in that order. They managed to get us out just before 7:00, and we commented that it would be nice to go again sometime and not have to rush through dinner. And maybe also try the Mexican place.

There was the usual insane number of people looking for parking when we arrived, but this time we did manage to get a spot at the Kitchener Library, which is pretty nearby. And as a bonus, their parking meter machine was broken! It was a near full house again.

The concert featured Rique Franks, Katherine Rose, and Neil Donnel on vocals. They explained that it was a new show, and it was a little rougher than usual, with some lyrics and vocal lines and song dates mixed up. But overall it was very enjoyable. Kind of a reminder of the many hits they’d had in the 80s there, all of which I knew at least by chorus, and a good selection from Rumors, which I pretty much know inside and out. I especially liked that some non-single but excellent songs from that classic album, such as “The Chain” and “Oh Daddy” were included. 

The music in general was well-suited to the orchestral approach. Jean developed an insta-crush on Katherine Rose based on her husky speaking voice. And Camie noted that it was nice to have the speaking and singing duties distributed among three people.

Next up: Elvis!

Weekend update

We’ve had varying success with recent weekend activities.

Failures:

  • Ben Heppner, who failed to show for the Grand Philharmonic’s performance of Edgar’s The Dream of Gerontius. If you’ve never heard of this work, don’t worry; neither had we. I don’t know if having the big star there would have made a difference, but we had to conclude that we aren’t necessarily fans of all great choral works. Cause we seemed to enjoy this way less than the rest of the audience, though the quality of performance was clear.
  • Avatar, because it sold out before we got there. Seven weeks later and it’s still that popular, eh? Guess for next time, we’ll order our tickets online in advance.

Successes:

  • Up in the Air, well-attended but not difficult to get into, and quite a good movie, to boot. No 3-D extravaganza, but a clever script and compelling characters.
  • The Waterloo anti-prorogation rally! Yes, we went. Pleased to see a good turnout. Hadn’t been to a political protest in decades. Wasn’t sure what would happen. Mostly, we politely listened to speeches of varying quality. Found the whole thing kind of heartening.
  • Participated in an unofficial canoe club gathering around the Banff Mountain Film Festival. Only we skipped the Film Festival part (one grows weary of watching short films about people doing risky stuff outdoors) and just joined in on the preliminaries of a hike and dinner. Made for a good day in this surprisingly mild January we’ve just had.

Upcoming:

Sigh. Though I’m kind of grumpy about it, I feel somehow compelled to watch next Sunday’s Superbowl halftime show, to see how The Who does. I’ve actually never watched any part of the Superbowl before. Obviously I saw the Janet Jackson thing afterward on YouTube, and I’m a bit sorry now that I didn’t take the time to watch Prince’s half-time performance, but there you are. This will be a first.

So now I have to figure out things like, when is half-time, anyway? (My husband is absolutely no help in these matters.) OK, I do realize it’s a live sporting event, so the exact time halftime begins will vary, but around when will it be? Online TV guide has some pre-Superbowl thing happening from 2-6, with the game from 6-10. (And here I thought the game was actually played in the afternoon, not at night.) So am I naive to think halftime will be somewhere around 8:00, then? And they aren’t going to interview Townsend and Daltrey during the pre-Superbowl thing, are they? I really don’t want to PVR that whole thing, nor do I want to lurk in front of the TV all day.

Ah well. I suppose if I somehow miss it, I can still catch it on YouTube later…