And All I Got Were These Two Pictures...

We took advantage of the forecasted sunny breaks of what was otherwise a mixed-bag weekend by heading out to Kitsilano early Saturday morning. We had brunch at Sophie's Cosmic Café, my third time there in the past ten years or so. My conclusion as to its popularity is Location Location Location. It certainly can't be the food— not bad by any means, but nothing special. There is also the people-watching aspect. While Betty and the kids were across the street at the Lululemon mothership, I stood in line for about fifteen minutes behind three women who got intimate by running their fingers through each other's hair and then caressing one another.

Nutritional needs out of the way, I walked along West 4th looking for photogenic store fronts. I noticed something new. The display books at Duthie's all had elastic bands tied around them, to keep the pages from flipping open and getting damaged (an educated explanation on my part). I saw the same treatment at Brigid's Used Books on West Broadway later that day.

I eavesdropped on a few conversations. One was between a past-middle-age gentleman and a twenty-something bookseller. They were talking about the struggle and sacrifice one has to make to become a professional musician. One of them mentioned that Weezer once opened for a now-forgotten local band at the Anza Club, and that the White Stripes, in its early days, played the Student Union Building out at UBC.

I learned one other thing—more a confirmation of what I already know, really. Nice, clean, well-to-do shopping districts make for poor photography. All I got were the following two shots of Pez dispensers.

***

An old co-worker of Betty's spotted us at a food court Friday evening. She (the co-worker, not Betty, let's be perfectly clear now) was so despicable I wanted to change my sexual orientation right there and then.

***

I had the pleasure to use the following words this weekend: ramshackle, chubby, and hog (as in not sharing).

Adjust Underwear

To be young again...

Swades, A Review, 4/5*

Swades comes highly recommended by a workplace friend. The film is about an NRI (non-resident Indian) professional working in the US who decides to spend two weeks in India to bring his boyhood caretaker back to America. While there, he falls in love with a childhood friend, Gita, and finds himself fully immersed in the culture and drawn to its people and traditions. Weeks become months. Begrudgingly, he returns to the US alone. After the predictable lack of sleep and restlessness, he sacrifices his very promising career as a program manager at NASA and returns to India to better his people and find happiness and love. [I’m an expert on Indian film now, this being my first full-length feature from that country, all three hours of it.]

I can see why Swades resonates with my friend, himself an NRI, and a Compaq, Canon, and Creative Labs owner: the main character, Mohan, travels back to his homeland in style, armed with a digital camera and a notebook computer—electronics being the first things NRIs buy when they land on these shores.

And like Mohan, I suspect every tech worker sent out west has to juggle success and progress with tradition and spirituality, both personally and collectively as part of the newly globally affluent. The film addresses this struggle as one branch on a tree, then tackles the tree and finally the forest—India herself. Issues such as the emancipation of women, poverty and the caste system, and the ineffectiveness of government are brought to the fore.

While I can’t speak for my dear young friend, I can understand better his hesitation when answering the oft-asked question “Why not stay, surely things are better here than in India?”

***

I didn’t care much for the singing and dancing, minimal as it was, especially Gita's parts. An acquired taste, no doubt. Nevertheless, Swades gets a few bonus points from me. Any film that mentions the stars and showcases a telescope, even a flimsy one of the department store variety, gets an additional ½ star rating. Also, all the technical NASA-speak shores up my belief that program managers in fact do nothing. And oh yes, wrestling, no matter what country you’re in, is just not a normal activity.

All-in-all a good movie with tender and humourous moments. Other apt titles could very well have been "Crossroads", or, "A Tale Of Two Indias". Now, everybody, go light your bulbs!

BTW, I am told that NRI jokingly stands for “non-returning” Indians for a large number of those working in the States.

Some Profound Thoughts, and Real Estate

If I were to start a music band, I'd call it Convenience Store.

***

I thought about my old friend Robert Lin while shopping at Chapters this evening. Pity that he isn't around anymore. I'm sure he would've shared a thought or two with me about the Asian customer perusing the newsstand with her caucasian male companion. I ended up buying Cormac McCarthy's The Road for $9.99.

***

I've read that bananas are on the list of foods preferred by test pilots because it tastes pretty good in vomit form. Along these lines, my A-list of pleasant after-meal burp foods include the Big Mac and smoked oysters.

***

Earlier last week, we made an appointment to view the house next door. Once again, we weren't impressed with the floor plan, decor, upkeep, and anticipated reno cost, certainly not at the exorbitant asking price. We weren't thrilled with the realtor either—he unabashedly farted while talking to me about home theatres, and then again while extolling the sweet sound of tube-based stereo amplifiers. He also gave us some lame explanation for the ants crawling across the reception room floor—that they had gotten a ride into the house via a rolled-up newspaper. Matthew and Shaula spent the rest of the visit chuckling among themselves, explaining to me later that they had heard the realtor fart while he was busily stomping on the ants.

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I'm getting into Facebook now. Everybody and their cats and dogs are there.

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I booked the whole day off today to take my father-in-law to VGH for two CT scans, and to do lunch with a friend at Milestone's. Nice to see her again.

This Much I've Learnt...

Paint peels
Cars rust
Photos fade
Things break
—and —
People perish