my post boxing day impulse buy?

Rare moths.

I was going to tell you exactly how and why I have purchased these exquisite moths, but I think it's more fun just to tell you that I have and leave you to wonder about shady back alley deals with entomologists.




Luna Moth (Actias luna)



Death's Head Moth (Acherontia atropos)

it was a very good year in review

My Own Top Ten Albums (take that, FFwd)

1. Belle and Sebastian-The Life Pursuit

2. Islands-Return to the Sea

3. Hawksley Workman- Treeful of Starling

4. Cat Power- The Greatest

5. Yo La Tengo- I am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass

6. Neko Case- Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

7. KT Tunstall- Eye to the Telescope

8. Swan Lake- Beast Moans

9. The Elected- Sun, Sun, Sun

10. TV on the Radio- Return to Cookie Mountain

Honorable Mentions:

Tom Waits- Orphans
The Be Good Tanyas- Hello Love
Sufjan Stevens- The Avalanche and Songs for Christmas
Woodpidgeon- Songbook

...and from me

how I learned to stop worrying and love the good people at A-1 Affordable Locksmith

One night this week I went out with the charming and erudite Jessie Forman, for a pint or two at Michaelangelo's. (Motto: We Have Many Kinds Of Beer But The Servers Are Elusive and Please Don't Think About The Unfortunate Lives Of These Couches)

Later that evening, returning to Kathleen's abode flushed with artistic genius* and (apparently) superhuman strength, the key twisted off in the lock. I shook my tiny fist at the heavens and cursed vehemently, before slinking off to spend the night under the Centre Street Bridge drinking Boone's from a paper bag.

The next day at work I called the A-1 Affordable Locksmithing company, to whine about how God hates me. We had a rather pessimistic conversation about which house did or did not belong to whom, and fate, and the projected starvation curve of the domestic housecat. Until we verbally stumbled across the fact that I have both halves of the key. And that this meant a copy might be made.

So I hopped in my rental car*, newly provided by my insurance, and rushed over there. They took both halves of the key into the back, did whatever it is they do to keys, (I only heard "klattu barada nicto"), and came back with a few versions of a new key that would hopefully provide salvation. And all for $4.80.

Success!

*Sometimes people, when drunk, talk of vacations they will never actually take or old friends they will never get in touch with. Jessie and I plan massive art events that we will probably never fill out AFA proposals for.

*My rental car is pretty sweet, but smells like they gave the interior a good spritz with Old Spice. Seriously, it smells like a suave, sexy, older man. Like driving inside of a CEO. What's up with that, Enterprise Rent-A-Car?

i know what i'm getting for christmas...

Today at work I was pretty bored on my break. Not bored enough to go back to work. So I started following random news threads on the MSN homepage....there was one promising looking message board on the topic "The Stupidest Thing I've ever Wasted Money On".

I found this exchange:

Bought 5000 bushel of Corn futures in 1978. I remember it well - that was going to be my ticket to wealth - I spent many nights at the library going thru old WSJs and plotting price charts, I had a 3-ring binder full of point-and-figure charts. (If only Al Gore had invented the net a few years earlier it would have taken about an hour).

Phil5185, what are bushels of Corn futures...I am guessing it is some program that flopped since I have never heard of it.

No, no flop, it's very much alive. The Chicago Board of Exchange (CBOE) is a major Exchange for commodities- it is similar to the NYSE for stocks. The CBOE trades grain (corn, wheat, soybeans), metals (gold, silver, copper), oil, coffee, orange juice, and many others. They are traded as a 'future' contract for the delivery of the commodity at some future date. If you buy one contract (5000 bushel) of corn for Dec 2008, it will be delivered to you on that date unless you sell your contract before the date. So, it's still there, feel free to take your chances, lol.

This raises some questions for me...mostly, why was this a bad investment? He doesn't say how it went wrong. I don't think there has been a major drop in the value of corn since 1978. Not that I do a lot of commodities trading, but, it's not a cassette player, it never goes out of style...

Is there less available corn per capita? Did something bad happen to his specific corn? Dry rot? Rats? Marauding chickens?

Also, who thinks that corn from the future is the fast track to untold riches? Maybe that's why it's a bad investment. You have to wait until 2008 and you only make 2 cents per cob.

Anyway, the really intriguing thing here is the potential this has as a present. I mean, I know most likely doesn't happen this way, but "it will be delivered to you on that date" brings to mind this scenario.........

One wakes up on a crisp December morn years in the future. The warmth of the blankets contrasts with the frost on the windowpane. The peacefulness of the day is suddenly shattered by a rumbling and shaking in the very foundations of the house...one looks out the window to see 50 large mining trucks approaching bearing...is that.....is it....CORN!!?

Seriously think about giving this to me or others for christmas. It will definitely be a surprise....it may be the fast ticket to wealth! You can just tell your loved one that you have bought them 5000 bushels of corn. And of course, don't tell them on what day (or year) it will be delivered.

cohen apocrypha

Overheard today while christmas shopping in the "Poetry" section of Chapters.....

Shaggy-haired guy in Matthew Good T-shirt, to bleached out girlfriend:

"I heard this story from a friend when I was going to school back east. The mother of my friend had had a one-night stand with Leonard Cohen. The next morning he hopped out of bed, put on his pants, and said "Darling, I would love to stay. But I am a poet." then turned and walked out the door."

1. I really hope this is true.
2. Finally. A line I can use for those awkward mornings after.

kind of an existential problem

So, tonight I was perusing Megatunes and they were playing Sufjan Stevens' christmas album. I'm just still not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, everything Sufjan touches turns to awesome. Including Christmas music. Which I hate. So I was listening to it going, "lovely! That's a lovely banjo riff! This is totally enjoyable!"

Then the other part of my brain went, "yes, but you're singing 'pa rum pa pum pum'. With feeling."

I feel unresolved. Still, it's better than Manheim Steamroller's christmas album, which my mom drags out every 24th.

my motive in posting this?

Just because I know it will freak Kaylen out. That is all.

carma owes me

I've discovered what makes the term "terrible tragedy" unredundant. It's the amount of beauracracy involved. For instance, if your cat is run over in the street, that is merely a tragedy. Because all you have to do is dig a hole in the garden and plunk the cat into it. Maybe have the kids make a cross that says "Muffkins", so you know not to dig that spot up when planting carrots. Or if you're really lucky and live in Canada, you can throw the cat in the freezer and forget about it until the ground thaws enough to dig.

However if someone runs over your Civic, it becomes a terrible tragedy. Because all your days off for the week will be consumed by car related paperwork, and you may not have a car again, for months! For a small sample of the terriblilty of this tragedy, witness my day....

I have been informed by the insurance company that the first thing I need to do is file a police report. They also need to see the car and put an inspection sticker on it. So today I set off in Bustopher, driving him for the first time since he was beat up by a '91 Buick LeSabre. Half way to the police station, the front tire blows. I call my dad and he comes to change the tire, because the jack in my car is missing a part. (who knew?) So we both freeze our butts off, then I go to take off in the car, which much to my distress is still making horrific grinding noises. My dad surmises that something is wrong with the axle, and we call a tow truck, which only takes 45 minutes to arrive instead of five hours, because we are in a high danger position on the side of the the Trans Canada. So I learned one thing today...always break down on the side of a main road. If your car breaks down on a side street, push it onto a main road.

So I phone the police and ask them what I should do now that the condition of my car has changed from "driveable but unattractive" to "lawn ornament". I go in to give my statement, which involves, of course, paperwork. The highlight is that I drew an extremely nerdy diagram of the accident, which the officer loved. I have to say it was a masterpiece greatly influenced by four years of art school, although my car looked a bit like a hamster.

So now I need to go the mechanic's, give them the paperwork, have them call the police to come there and do an inspection, get estimates on the mechanical damage and the autobody work, make appointments to have all this work done, and of course wait for all the insurance to go through. Thank goodness I'm living in Marda Loop now....I sense a lot of walking in the immediate future.

Chorus: Holy Moly is that Unfortunate, Dude.

Amen.

hear ye

O Bustopher Jones! 'Tis a long life to always be longing for a vehicle of such prowess as thou. Thou art powerful, like Godzilla, yet soft and yielding like a meringue pie. A valiant heart, stalwart spirit and modified air intake are but mere symbols of thy fearful symmetry!

Chorus: A coat like burnished onyx and a deep-throated roar possessed he!

Yea, ...and verily thou were hated despite great qualities, and ignominious fiends plotted to maim and scar thy perfection. Ye were greviously injured on the 30th day of the eleventh month, your fate was writ upon the dewy ground in shattered glass and burned rubber.

Chorus: Oh Woe! Woe to Bustopher Jones! Noblest of steeds!

Thy autobody is broken, but thy spirit carries you across the macadam of this undeserving city! Like a great Hind, who struggles through the snowy wood despite the hunter's arrow, leaving a crimson trail, thou shalt continue throughout Calgary despite a mild drip of radiator fluid and the vicious taunts of those who can no longer see thy beauty.

Chorus: What justice can there be? What justice for one who once flew so high? Now brought so low? Bustopher Jones, once proper insurance procedures are established, we shall anoit thy wounds with all the balm in Gilead. There will once again be a twinkle in thy headlights...it has been sworn.