2010 - and we're back

Just like the lady herself

Retiring the blog

Looking at the length between posts and the lack of interesting stuff in each post has made me realize that this is a blog well past its sell by date and so I'm retiring it - for now at least. I realize of course that blogs are like Cher - and so any retirement may be temporary and it may come back looking and sounding like nothing you've seen from it before. But not for a while I hope.

It's been a weird couple of years. We've had death, cancer, job losses, forced moves, loss of babies and a whole bunch of other issues that didn't make it as far as the blog to contend with. Actually it hasn't been weird, it's been a period of concentrated misery compounded by disaster upon uncertainty.

The fact that I'm here at all is a minor miracle. The fact that I'm functioning is down to the friends, the family, the people who posted comments and even those who just came looking for a snatch or two of a celeb or two and added to the numbers. I'd like to thank you all for everything along the way.

If the last three years have been about not falling into the increasing chasms of despair opened by circumstance I'm hoping that the next couple can be about the future. About brave and bright new opportunities and experiences that give stalled lives fresh momentum.

And I wish that not just for myself, but for all of you. May your lives be filled with passion, with joy, with adventure and with a kinetic energy that takes you from experience to experience with energy and open hearts.

And that as they say, is that

Thanks all

Steve

Automne à Montréal

c'est ici Octobre
les feuilles changent de couleur
la température est en baisse
tout le monde porte un manteau
et mon français est maintenant à sa limite

Yes Autumn is upon us, the leaves are changing colors, the temperatures are falling, people have moved from t-shirts to jackets to coats in the space of a week and I'm back in French class and trying very hard to get an ear for this stuff again.

Lots to be done at the moment - not least setting up some proper book-keeping. I haven't had a paycheck since February and I won't be writing one until I manage to set up some decent spreadsheets that I can share with the accountant and work out some form of salary for myself.

But today is pretty much taken up with French homework, a deck that I'm writing as a proposal for a piece of new business and with an attempt to bring a little beauty back into my life by doing some interesting work with some interesting models. We shall see how that goes.

Generally though things are good. I'm back in the gym. We've found a parking space in the garage next door, the last of the festivals is in town, there's a photo show all over town that I really want to see, we haven't had to turn the heating on yet (though it's coming) and we're starting to look at some houses in the area; which reminds me...I must call the mortgage guy.

So all pretty much mundane stuff but after the last month or two it's nice to sit back, relax and enjoy life a little. How French of me.

A shortage

Quebec it seems has a shortage of family doctors. It costs more to practice as a doctor here, the tax rates are higher and the government pays less than they do in neighboring states. As a result about 1 in 4 people here can't find a family doctor. Instead they choose a clinic, make an appointment and see whoever is available.

That works for most people. But when you have a US oncologist insisting that he'll only release records to a specific doctor rather than to a clinic full of them it gets hard. 20 phone calls this morning to people claiming to be taking no patients gave up nothing.

So I called US oncologist. Who called Quebec oncologist. Who called his receptionist. Who in turn scoured the hospital. Which turned up a newly qualified doctor happy to take me on if I'm happy to pay for blood-work. Deal!

The system here works, it's free, the quality of care is good, but breaking into the system is hard. Oh to be in Alberta - said he jokingly.

I'm telling you it's human nature

I tend to only really like Spencer Tunick's work when it's very architectural. The rest of the time I'm impressed by the scale but left rather cold at the execution - and I always think that his portraits are technically weak.

But there's something about this image that I really like. First there's the fact that he got THIS many people to show up. And then to get naked. And then to rest their heads on the naked body of another stranger. And he managed to convince them not to mug for the camera. Or to wave. Or to try to stand out. And what you're left with is mass intimacy. And I really rather like that.

Am thinking retirement at the moment - and whether it's better to put the money in art than to put it into some faceless bond. I like the idea of speculating in beauty - and in having the investment on display every day. I also like the idea of owning some pretty special photos.

Let's see what the year brings...

Home at last

So I'm finally back in Montreal and have very few plans to be away in the next few weeks - other than a day in Michigan at a conference.

Jude's Albany conference seemed to go well, the 3.5 hr ride down there started to hint at the first sign of fall with some vivid colors and suddenly 30s temperatures and we managed to catch up with some old friends. Which is always nice.

Both feeling like crap now - me finally allowing myself to come down off a pitch schedule that was brutal and lubricated only with late nights and alcohol (pitches get me thinking and thinking keeps me up at night)

Now it's back home. Back to a schedule. And back to the gym. And I really can't get started fast enough.

Back in Montreal (for a day)

So after a few days in New York and a pitch to a big client in Atlanta I'm finally back in Montreal - for the day. Tomorrow I'm heading down to a conference in Albany where Jude is talking about a paper.

New York was a lot of work, a lot of long nights in the hotel alone and two lovely nights with my friends Gareth and Amy who not only took me to comedy but also to a comedy, burlesque, mexican wrestling night that saw a woman who looked like Prince stripping, a woman getting naked inside a balloon, slutty sisters on the trapeze and best of all a TS and a midget (both glow in the dark, the midget dressed as a chicken) jumping 30 ft from a balcony onto and into the crowd. Luche Va Voom - I salute you.

Made the whole trip worth it.

Thank you guys.

Blog will now be kept up to date with German regularity.

Last day in NYC

It's my last day in NYC. Just signed into the agency here for the last time. Will head for Atlanta tomorrow. Then home on Tuesday. No more trips like this one I think. It's good to be out and in people's faces and looking for new business - but the idea was to work from home, not spend my life on the road trying to convince people to let me work from home. Still we're in a good place right now. And it's getting better and better.

Proper blog to come... with jokes and things

Still on the road

So here I am, still in hotels, still unable to sleep and still on the road. Thank god for laptops and wireless access is what I have to say.

I've managed to catch up with youtube, to follow up with friends on facebook, to tighten up some parts of my book and of course managed to find a clean up service that will remove the unconscious bodies of tazed hookers at a very reasonable rate.

The staff here know me now and I'm starting to feel like a regular. It's worth nothing of course but that's not the point -- there's a whole other value attached to a nod and a smile when you're away from home.

Madness... madness

two colors of pen

I've started writing all of my work stuff by hand recently

And using a black and a red sharpie.

I don't know why.

But I have found that art directing my thoughts makes me focus my thoughts
In a way that bullet points used to.

Weird that, huh?

Fabulously Phat

You see what I did there?

In New York for a couple of days and last night managed to join up with Gareth and Amy (of Amy and Gareth do mad things fame) at their fab new pad in a fab area surrounded by fab things and quirky, over-confident NY kids.

Drinking, curries, more drinking, comedy, a stagger home, another drink, a Tylenol and 9 hrs sleep later and I'm up and running and feeling just dandy thank you very much Margaret.

Hotel crawling with fashion week flunkies
Williamsburg ditto

YSL gave me a nice mag in a white bag / sleeve though - so they're forgiven.

Can't wait to get home... couple of flights and cities between now and then but counting the sleeps as they say in Oz

Rough Day

I gathered that today was a rough one when I found myself curled in a ball in the corner of an airport crying uncontrollably (never a good look, dangerous when flying into New York on 9/11)

The reason was very simple, I think. The people that we rent from have the house on the market. We knew that when we moved in, and we were cool with it. Our last place had been on the market too. They just started showing the place and now there's an offer on it. I'm not around to work out a mortgage in time to counter the offer and so we're going to have to move (again) in June.

This shouldn't be an issue. We move a lot. What's the big deal? Right?

Well the big deal is that we chose this place with all kinds of future plans in mind. We saw it the day after Judith found out that she was pregnant. The pictures had a nursery and a crib in them. And I'd imagined this being the place to which we brought home that first child. This wasn't another house - it was going to be a real home for us, for the family that we were going to have.

Of course, as those of you who read this blog know, our happiness seems rationed and so the baby - like health and employment so soon before it, but with more tragic impact was lost. Leaving us with a house that we loved and dreamed of filling. And now (it seemed at 1pm today) was taken too. This wasn't a house that we were losing, it was the last physical connection to the baby we lost and the dreams we had for it.

And I am SO done with uncertainty. Cancer haunts ever quarter. Employment is at the whim of people who have proved mercurial, and three times a day people walk into my home and discuss in front of me what they're planning to do with the room that I'd planned would sleep my baby.

The truth, the real truth, is that I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Just one pillar that I could cling to in the tsunami of bad karma that has been the last 5 years would be great. But I can't find one. And I am drowning. And just as Stevie Smith said people seem to think that I'm waving.

Normal service will be resumed tomorrow -- when I will go back to a windowless office and spread my brand of optimism and good cheer amongst people sulking at losing a weekend. But today, I think, I'm allowed to be down.

The things you miss

So while I was in Brazil I managed to miss the Fetish weekend here... which was a shame as they have a fetish exhibitionist walk that would be fabulous to photograph.

Similarly I'll be away from the Burlesque Festival - which I really wanted to be involved in but somehow conspired to be away for.

So I'm missing everything but coming back to Montreal each time is feeling more and more like coming home - especially as the skies are both brilliant blue and always visible. The temps are down a little (23c as I write this) but the sunshine more than makes up for it.

I like it here. It's a shame that the house is for sale - 3 people a day tramping through is enough to disturb even my sense of equilibrium... but we're looking at buying options (it may just be too early for us) and at the idea of moving again with less dread than in the past.

I'm happy today - working hard on a cool project and from a distance; in a city I really like. Life is good. Now where's the kick coming from?

Last day in Brazil

It's my last day in Brazil today - though they have asked me to stay. By they I mean the people who I"m helping out here, not the Brazilian government. It's been damp, gray and fattening. Too much food, too little time outside and as a result I'm feeling fat and a though I swallowed a million razor blades.

Other than that things are good. Annoyed at not being able to really use my phone due to $3 a minute roaming charges... but in spirits as good as weight gain will allow.

Be good to be home... even for 3 days

And it's Brazil

So here I am in Brazil... on too little sleep and with 'dinner and samba' being the thing that is going to make it a late one tonight. The weather is grey and cold(ish) and we're working the weekend - but it's nice to be in an office that has great natural light, on a schedule that blurs the days and amongst people who have ideas for a living.

Reading "Risk" and again loving sociology - if only it wasn't so Educatating Rita - all middle aged women trying to figure out where their lives and marriages took such a wrong turn. I could be interested.

Right - power nap time! Then it's hip swinging starters and heel ball toe entrees

Mission Part Complete

So I had my New York meeting and was rabidly but genuinely enthusiastic... meeting went reasonably well and I really liked the people. Usually that means nothing as average tenure in a job in NA is 4 years - but these people like to stay a while in their positions and that would be good as I'd love to work with them.

9 hr flight down to Brazil comes next... will be there until the 7th - and then fly back home to Montreal for a couple of days before coming back down to the mothership for one final push... should be good (we hope)

All of that said it's been an uneventful couple of days, I've remembered why I do and don't like agencies and I'm looking forward to working with creative types over the next couple of days.

Sing hallelujah

The Royalton

I'm at the Royalton in new york, preparing for a meeting on Weds and then a flight to Brazil on Thursday that will eat up a holiday weekend and swallow up a birthday as I head for home on Monday.

The hotel here is all slick chocolate browns and glass sinks, flat surfaces and fake wood - it's kinda nice but you wonder whether they'll get the money they spent on the design back before fashion changes and they're forced to spend to change it - and whether they ran those numbers. Still it has a gym (desperately needed after the last three weeks of airports) and a bed that's free of bugs and not overly soft - so I won't complain to anyone about this choice.

Be good to get past this trip and be home again. Life on the road is expensive and it's lonely; my credit card bill being the only thing that I seem to check in with while traveling. Oh well, here's to Sept 23rd and being back without a trip on the horizon (said the man about to leave one great city for Brazil... surely a better trip than Toronto)

I am now officially the worst blogger ever

So after all of the drama at the airport I got home to see my wife and a very dear and equally old friend and settled into a routine of frenzied hard work. I'm busy. Partly because I'm helping out on a global pitch and partly because, as global pitches too often are, this is one that has a million loose ends all urging you to tug a little and see what happens.

Throw in a couple of flights this week - first to New York and then down to Sao Paulo, Brazil and the hotel shown above and you suddenly start to see just why I've not been around. It's crazy. Stupidly crazy. And of course I'm letting myself suffer. The gym routine is down to nothing, the wine intake up 100%, I have a metallic taste in my mouth that makes the thought of food too bloody much and I'm sleeping like a baby (waking every two hours and screaming)

But it's almost done. I shall be home soon,

Steve will...

... attempt to leave NYC tomorrow

Cross all that you have

Not so fast

Two days after my last post I'm still in New York City. Blame the weather, blame mad chinamen, blame whatever.. it's a mess.

So here's the story. I leave the office and head to LGA, stand in line, wait 20 mins for someone to validate my passport at the self serve booth (if you need validation from a member of staff it's not self serve in my opinion but I digress) and am given this message.

"You are attempting to check in too early, boarding passes can be printed no more than 24 hrs in advance"

A lot of wrangling and I see that my flight has been canceled. And that I'm on standby for a flight 26 hours hence. Which is pants as I have to leave Monday at 4am to get back to New York. The office swings into action and finds a 9.40 flight out of EWR. I get in a taxi and start to head there... only to find on my Blackberry that this flight too is canceled. I call Continental (the airline) and they confirm, but say that my ticket was held but not bought and that if I want to fly at all this weekend I have to throw $1000 at them right now. I crumble. I buy the ticket. Cancel Delta and get some of the money back and then head back into town to find a hotel (remember no hotels if it's a weather related delay)

So today I leave early, Get to the airport and find my flight delayed due to a late arriving incoming plane. 3 hrs later I'm onboard and happy to be heading home. We pull away from the gate and grind to a halt. Bad weather. But we're being re-routed and will be away soon. Then that route is canceled. We still the engines and wait an hour - happy to be 3rd in line.

The clouds start to part and the screaming starts. A Chinese man wants off the plane. he's had enough. He doesn't want to fly. He wants to go back to the gate. We turn around and head back. To take off against his will is legally kidnap. Cool. As we head back planes start moving. There's a gap in the storm and they all take off. We don't. We get to the gate and the Chinese man refuses to get off. Planes are moving. He wants to leave. They throw him off. His three sheepish looking kids are ushered to the door. He forbids them to leave. "Booooo" say the plane. "BOOOOOOOOO" says the sweet but deaf man next to me. A stand off, they they too are off. We refuel. We head back to the runway. We stop. The storm is back. We're no. 17 for take-off. We wait. For about 4 hrs. People cry. People faint. The deaf man next to me shout / whispers "YOU CAN SEE THAT ONE'S NIPPLES AND HER ASS... SHE MUST BE A STRIPPER... NOT ONE FOR MOTHER ANYWAY"

"We'll make it" say the cabin crew

"We won't" says the pilot and we head back to the gate. Deflated.

"I TELL YOU SHE'S A DANCER" yells my seat-mate. Fun.

Weather again means no hotels but I stand in line with the deflated few and wait to change my ticket. It takes hours. The guy behind the counter seems distracted by the stripper / dancer. He offers me 5pm tomorrow. I don't want to fly at 5pm tomorrow as I have to be back Monday at 6am. So I decide to change for mid-week, suck it up and head into town.

Walk into my fave hotel and tell the tale. Tearfully. They take pity and upgrade me to a suite. It's nice. And cheaper than where I've been.

I try to call home but Jude is out doing the things that I'd planned for us to be doing together. I have a friend in town and I'm not seeing him at all. Still mid-week.

I decide to check the flight times and see that it's booked in the past. For July not August. Old Nipple Tassels certainly has an effect on men. I call and change the ticket. For no charge. That's nice. Check the weather for mid-week, it looks good. Then I cry, a lot.

After that I call some friends, arrange some dates, sort through expenses (a lot of small bits of paper) and generally feel better. Work some too and manage to improve a brief and get into a position to start work tomorrow. More drained than a bride-groom to be at one of 'SHE'S A DANCER, WINK, WINK's - and now for some TV and bed.

Farewell NYC

My last morning in NYC and I have a 7am call. That means having to stay until the next flight out - which is at 5.40pm. Long delay for a short call but hey, it's with Singapore and that's a 12 hr time difference so c'est la vie.

Have a wife and some friends waiting for me at home, along with a kick-box, yoga retreat - which could be fun (or disastrous, I'm hoping the former) then a couple more weeks of flying around the globe before finally getting back to Quebec and real life.

Still it's all good and it's all money in the bank...

A blog from a plane

As I got onto my Delta flight today they gave me a 'free wi-fi' coupon

And guess what? It works

Another refuge gone, huh?

Delayed, on a plane, with a moron

And so the noise continues. And not just any noise. Not the gentle hum of the air against the aluminum tin into which we are crammed, or the drone of engines fighting for thrust. No; this noise is more penetrating, a bullet hole, an exposed nerve in sub zero temperatures. This is a cacophony of noise in the first person. A litany of “I” and “me” and “then I” and “it’s amazing that I”s that is as relentless as it is boastful. The pauses for breath are few but precious, counted in nanoseconds, a silence which his unfortunate row-mate feels compelled to fill with the “Wow’s” that are taken as ‘please continue, only with more volume, more self interest, less sense of other people being around and punchlines to each story that are identifiable as such only by your laughter and the shake of your swollen head.”

And in the moments that you’re not imagining pushing a spike through the soft part of his brain responsible for speech you’re wondering what life must be like for those around him, Because this man sees himself as a motivator, as a coach, as a shining example of how self belief can overcome any obstacle. To his kids he will be first a hero, then a bully, then a figure to be kept at a distance, before eventually becoming a story as short as it is tragic. “My dad? Yeah, he was an asshole.”

You see them, these guys. On touchlines everywhere. In shorts. Urging the kids on. And of course these days you see them on TV too. Most famously Survivor’s biggest planet of one ‘Coach’… men too caught up in the rhythm of their speech and the energy of their telling to notice the slight recoil or the open disbelief of their ‘audience’


Some make a fortune as ‘motivational speakers’ – telling those cursed with meekness and manners that the way to ‘get on in life’ is to blast right through it, picking up ‘pearls of wisdom’ as you go. But there’s never any real wisdom there. Because these guys are all about the reaction to a sound-bite. They live for a ‘that was deep’ reaction, not for moments that are deep. Skimming along on a a thin surface of polite strangers and people caught too deep in their web to disappear to a quieter space.

And much as you may want to hurt them. To point out their folly, to highlight the reactions of the people around them, you don’t. Because there’s no room in the conversation. And no hope of getting through. These are guys who don’t know things they believe them and their belief is unshakable. They’re the assholes that love the military but wouldn’t join it, that love their wives but wouldn’t say no to the hooker in the bar, who’ll give you a piece of their mind – even though they don’t seem to have much to spare.

And they’re always, always, seated behind me.

International de montgolfières de Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu

So the summer here starts to draw to an end with temperatures set to a gentle bake, skies that grow hazy at night with the sweat and fatigue of the people here and with the last of the big festivals all vying for attention.

Yesterday we had the choice of hot air ballooning (with music by Wyclef Jean) or an Italian Fest with lots of sports cars, pasta and music by someone other than Wyclef (why do I always say his name as though I'm Tom Jones?), the Gay Pride community day with music by Michel Dorion or Festiblues with music by old guys who have had lives as hard and wives as battered as their guitars.

Having watched a scarcely attended drag queen homage to the 80s (Tine Turner good, Cher bad, Pat Bennetar a revelation), been depressed enough having lived in Michigan and both having the desire to still fit in our clothes we decided to eschew gay community, pasta and old guys with rough lives and rougher hands and set off for the Balloon Festival - or International de montgolfières de Saint-Jean-sur-Richeli.

And what a good decision. More inflatables than an It's a Knockout Special, fat kids refusing to jump from the bungee platform as mom tried harder and harder to fake credible adoption papers, a wine tent with outdoor seating and 100 hot air balloons taking to the air with near silent majesty. Really cool.

I have five days away now - a meeting in NYC and one in Atlanta... with lots of tricky flights in between - and I'm going to miss being here. Especially as Jude is finally back, the dog is finally well and we have a friend coming to stay for the first time in close to two decades (this friend, not any friend)

Oh well - home by Friday, and then a few days off before I have to head for Brazil.

Jude home tonight

So we headed into downtown Montreal for dinner. Valet parking was all Bugatis and decent Porsche, restaurant an old fashioned steak house that serves too much stodgy food in an atmosphere of clubby geniality. Not bad at all - but a 'once if you have to' experience

More of me...

I have a lot of photo shoots coming up over the next couple of weeks and so I've been taking any down time that I have to play with lighting set-ups and lenses. Of course the bad thing right now is that I'm home alone, the dog is banned from the photoroom and the cats move too fast to ever really be of any use to me.

So I end up as my own model. Which is actually very weird... there's something about editing your own pics that smacks of vanity - even if your intentions have been good. What I've found is that I really don't have the face for modeling. I seem to have a perma scowl and an eyebrow that looks as though it was raised wryly just as the botox went in. 90% of the shots are ruined by my face. And 70% by my body. The good models I'm using have about a 10% : 20% ratio.

But still in my new spirit of boheme I thought that I'd share a couple of 'test oven' shots with the world... why the hell not, huh?

Bonjour

Okay it's been about 37 years since I last blogged - at least in blog years, it's actually decades in Tweet-time but hey we're all spewing more and more information in less and less space and in service of nothing; so maybe a hiatus is good.

With Jude now in Chicago I find myself wandering the city on a schedule that's only really moderated by the fact that the dog seems to have constant (and texturally consistent) diarrhea and needs checking in on / wiping up after / cleaning up every other hour.

That said the weather has been gorgeous, the streets awash with festivals and my days relatively free this last week so I've been cycling, photographing, head nodding along to the musicking and generally partaking in active relaxation

Life is good.

The new Avant Garde

So the other day I was watching a documentary about the ever booming porn industry (13,000 DVD titles a year just out of the US) and I started thinking about how and when it all became so violent. Porn it seems has become about competitive degradation.

A friend of mine spoke at Ted this year about the effects that US porn has on teenage kids and what they regard as normal sexually... and the boundaries of acceptable have been massively expanded since the 70s. The modern porn industry is at a place that seems to be increasingly violent - with spitting and choking being the moves du jour.

This is where the degradation part comes in. The theory is that we see things as being degrading if we, when we imagine OURSELVES being in that position the thought is one that would make us feel less about ourselves. Of course this idea of what's personally degrading has changed over time. It was degrading to be a stripper long before it was empowering. Blow jobs on film once made you persona non-grata with Hollywood now you're no-one until you have a sex tape (Paris, Kim, Pam *2, Nicole, Colin, Meg...) and having a sex tape isn't going to keep you out of the teen magazines. And so it goes on. Where people draw the line on what's acceptable comes down to a couple of things... familiarity, social acceptability and access.

The internet has brought about access and familiarity. Look up a sex act, any sex act, and you're going to find 100s of matches. It's hard to be a pervert when there's a vast machine amalgamating every whim and quirk out there. So it's easy to think "well everyone is doing it"... and because access is a click away it feels a lot more socially acceptable too ---> porn isn't something that you have to seek out in cinemas, along top shelves and in dodgy back rooms behind slash curtains anymore, it doesn't come in a brown paper bag. No porn stopped being something that you whispered about when it moved from being something you had to look for to something that you had to block if you didn't want to see it. The modern world is made of bits, and most of those bits are given over to reproducing 'the bits you didn't used to see'

So okay porn is everywhere and what's acceptable is changing as technology brings visibility. But why is it increasingly about demeaning women? And why do women agree to be demeaned so?

Good questions blog readers. And again I think that the answer is two-fold (maybe more, we'll see)

The first is a simple one. There's no shortage of young women looking for easy stardom in the porn business. There's money to be made and ever since Jenna crossed over there's the chance of real fame and perhaps and actual fortune. So for young women the industry holds opportunity. Or they think that it does. The problem is that to become breakout means being stand-out --- and standing out in a world where physical attributes can now be copied, cloned and siliconed means finding a niche and owning it.

So to stand out you've got to do something that the other girls won't. Which means more girls prepared to do more and more stuff. And to get more extreme in order to do it.

Then you've got to be able to live with yourself. You do this by detaching from the fact that you're doing things purely for fame or for money and you start to believe that what you're doing is pushing the boundaries. That you are the avant-garde. And of course you can point to how far people have come in 30 years as evidence that you're not being violated - you're leading the charge into a brave new world. 30 years ago a handful of girls would do anal, dp etc. now a handful won't. So your deciding to ram a swan up your ass whilst taking out your own appendix isn't a desperate cry for attention... it's a political and artistic statement.

When you get to this stage you can actually do things that the world may look at and say 'that's degrading' and not feel degraded in the slightest. A tough argument for the feminist politic to handle. That their outrage is nothing more than a generational gap and a refusal to move with what's acceptable.

This socio-political, avant-garde, anything for attention, perversion as an artistic statement porn movement has a face too. That of Sasha Grey. Gray is smart (The name "Sasha" was taken from Sascha Konietzko of the band KMFDM, and "Grey" represents Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray and the Kinsey scale of sexuality), she's happy to do things that others would baulk at - and she's turned this full on hypersexuality into a career that's seen her become a model, a singer and now a legitimate actress in Steven (Ocean's 11) Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience.

I've no idea what prompted this. Maybe it's that I'm thinking about what I want to shoot for 'The Dirty Show' or maybe it's just a look at how we each justify bravery (or self abuse)... I'll stop

yes, but are you happy?

Right now I'm loving Montreal. Only the lurking brutality of winter is clouding my view of what otherwise seems to me a perfect city. For example yesterday I got up and did a couple of hours of work before breakfast. This paid me as much as I'd have made for a day's work in previous lives.

Safe in the knowledge that I had earned a crust I toasted some bread bought from the market and then headed to the gym, where I broke a sweat and shed some pounds. From there it's a 25 mile drive down to the beach, where I shed all of my clothes in the company of around 300 likeminded people and get about reading the first installment of Michael Palin's diaries (see pic above, if only my camera phone hadn't lost its zoom function when I accidentally threw it to the ground).

Five hours later I drove home, in traffic that was incredibly light, made myself a pizza with more fresh local ingredients and wandered down to the subway station to meet a model who I was due to shoot. He was charming and good fun and very willing to work with some of the ideas that I had and I think that we got some good stuff out of the day



And the whole day the sun shone, the dog was looked after (for C$14!) and people were sweet and charming to me.

What's not to love? Now about that winter...

The perfect Montreal day

Today may have been the perfect Montreal day for me (albeit one that I spent alone)

It started, as all of my good days do with me stepping on my ambitiously named 'thinner' brand scales and seeing that my weight was down again. I'm now a full 13lbs (6kgs) lighter than I was when I got here and getting dangerously close to being Singapore weight, with some added muscle.

Delighted I took the dog out into the brilliant sunshine, a perfect 27c and just enough breeze to keep it feeling fresh and we walked along the canal for an hour before turning back for home, stopping only for fresh bread at the market.

Called Jude, who was enjoying the mountain air and felt a surge of 'gotta get me some of that' - as I did I passed a store that was advertising a workout / yoga / hiking weekend in the countryside just outside of the city. Called them and will be hiking, swimming, doing yoga, taking a bootcamp class and BBQing in 3 weeks. Perfect.

After breakfast I headed out in search of a haircut and a massage. We live in a gentrified block so it was those places that I tried first, no luck. Each place sighed sadly and then took great delight in showing me their appointment books, full to burst into the next millennial and then pointed me in the direction of someone equally busy and chi-chi. En route I chanced upon Jerry's and looking through the window spied an extra seat. I walked in and hi-fives were exchanged all around. It seems that Jerry's attracts a lot of white faces at the window, but that when people look in and see three young black guys with clippers they run a mile. I was the first white customer in 3 months and they loved it. We buzzed off the hair, sculpted the beard and did something a little Cary Grant with the moustache. I look different, but actually pretty cool.

Home to search the Internet for massage and turned down by all until I get to Miami. I call, they have a spot. I walk down, it's three blocks from the house and am offered the menu - Thai, Shiatsu, Hot Stone ($15 more), Hand job, Blow Job....

"Just a sec" I say. "I just want a massage. Is that okay? Or am I in the wrong place?"

"Up to you" says the small Asian woman who moments ago looked like a grandma but now has all of the markings of a mamasan.

"You pay me $20 for hand-job now, or you negotiate with girl and it cost more"

Too embarrassed to leave (I get very English when faced with having to offend) I walk into the small room, note the bucket full of used tissues and await my fate. In walks a girl dressed for a cocktail party/

"I only want a massage" I say

"Really? she says

"Yes I say, I'm having back problems" - I point at my back with my ring finger

"Well I make all of my money on services" she says "how about you pay me $15 for no-hand job"

I agree and her face lights up. She's from Indonesia, is learning German and Arabic, has an Aunt in Berlin and loves Bali. Freed from the idea of having to blow me she's all smiles and genuine massage expertise. I like her.

Of course only I would have to pay to get no action in a brothel.

From the massage to Dr Sketchy's - held in a dark bar away from the sunlight, but with a bikini beach theme. Mad but fun.

Back out into the street and the people are universally gorgeous. The women have decided that bags are out and that tits are in and almost to a woman have used a push up bra to create enough cleavage to act as a holster for a cell phone. They're everywhere and one wonders whether they're on vibrate.

The men are equally gorgeous. The big gay festival (well one of them) is in full swing and so the skin is uniformly olive, the arms buff and the v-neck t-shirts tight and complementing equally tightly cropped hair.

I decide to walk. Down through parks and little pedestrianised enclaves where 100s mill, eating and drinking Rose. Then down onto St Laurent and all of the fashion and boutiques. Until I come to Cinema L'amour - the biggest sex cinema in North America. I take a few shots and then a few more of the lobby. The girl behind the desk suggests I come back between shows as the theater is gorgeous and could be photographed then, but that right now they have people in and they're having sex. And here I was thinking that the sex was all on screen. This time I made my excuses and bolted.

Back home by 6.30 and realize that I've not eaten today. All of the walking has pretty much taken me past restaurants but somehow I didn't feel the urge. So here I am, contemplating what to put on my home made pizza, with the sun shining and the temperature still steady at 27c. The dog as been out and in an hour I leave to photograph a giant outdoor drag queen party... before skipping over to Parc Jean Drapeau for the fireworks and an open-air Coldplay gig.

It's been a very different day, but I finally feel like a local. Hey I almost joined my taxi-driver as he cat-called and wolf-whistled every woman he saw on the street - ruefully lamenting "And today, of all days, I am working"

The perils of nude beaches

Came across this article while looking for an image to accompany a piece I'm writing called "It's easy to love a nude beach when you have a big cock"

The image needs to be clean enough to be published, and not copyrighted. Tougher than you'd imagine.

Still fun story

New Routine

We haven't quite managed to settle into a new routine here yet. With all of the running around that moving takes, the people that we've had visiting and my company finally starting to land some jobs and take me away for a day or two it's all felt as though we were making it up as we go along.

But today I find myself home alone and facing the task of setting a routine for myself going forward. Jude is away for the next couple of weeks - first in Whistler where she's vacationing with some friends and then in Chicago where she has a conference to go to. So as of this morning I'm home alone and wondering what life here really looks like.

Today's schedule is a nice one I think. The sun is already shining but yesterday's deathly still and stupefyingly humid 31c has been replaced by a light breeze and 26c. So I'm making the most of it. Here's the plan.

Up at 7.30, make some breakfast (or finish up the breakfast that my mom had delivered for Jude's birthday, yum) then take the dog for a walk before it gets too hot, come back shower and head for the gym for an hour or so. From the gym drive down to the beach in a bid to look less like The Programmer guy here and spend an hour or two reading the Michael Palin diaries. Head back around three and sort out some expenses and book-keeping before spending an hour on the book and a couple of hours on the business, and some time on the phone drumming up interest in the Burlesque Festival. Walk the dog along the canal (she'll be tired as the dog-walker will have run her earlier) to a favorite dinner spot, order a huge salad and sit by the water as I eat. Come home, a little TV, hit all of the internet bookmarks and bed.

That's what life looks like here. It's not scintillating but it is happy. :-) See. :-)

A really simple model

I've spent much of the week being irked by companies' failure to understand that a two way dialogue requires more than allowing people to post what they think of what you're doing on a hub somewhere.

Here's my issue. There are so many companies out there asking "What do you think?" that my head spins. Most people offer me a place to post my commments. But they don't actually take any action based on what I say.

An example. HSBC understand local differences. They say so. They solicit my opinion based on this idea. So far better than most. They have an idea; they're involving me in their idea. I like. But they then launch not a single product based on any of the feedback that they get. If 80% of people in the West say that they'd like to be part of a solution to african poverty where's the product that allows micro loans? Or the product that diverts part of your interest into a aid? Or that allows you to buy shares in community ventures?

The model should be simple

- Introduce your idea

- Invite participation in your idea

- Use that participation to inform new products and services, communications and thoughts

It's not hard and it becomes a virtuous circle. But as long as there's a wall between innovation, r&d, marketing and manufacture it's just not going to happen.

Gnnnnnnrrrrrrrr.

Long day

So I left for the airport at 6pm yesterday
Arrive at 7.15 to be told that due to weather issues my flight is cancelled

Call the car rental companies who want $1300 for a one way to Montreal
So check in to a hotel.... at $180 a night it's not cheap by Taxis would have been $110 alone

A couple of drinks and a bad salad later I'm in bed
The whole hotel smells of sewage

Breakfast is Toast that is actually stale bread left to 'warm' in front of a radiator and a coffee
They charge $18

But I make it to the airport without incident and hit the standby line for the 9.45
Plane is oversold and broken

It sits on the tarmac.

I get confirmed for a 1.50pm flight; but they won't give me a seat.
I talk nicely to someone and get a seat assigned

Should be on my way,
Barring weather
And breakdowns.

Will arrive home 15 hrs late

But hopefully will arrive

Blessed

While in New York I've been reminded of how blessed I am when it comes to the people in my life.

Tonight I met friends doing cool web stuff (www.urdb.org)
People that had just finished books on Creative Spaces
And talented artists in the theatre, acting and film making spaces

And I realize that this isn't the norm. That most people don't have the ability to plug into a network of people as fascinating as it is fascinated. And I thank whatever entity is appropriate for the opportunity to mix with people who are driven, interesting and committed, because it rubs off.

I spent a night with friends and came out energized, motivated and stimulated. Wow. Feeling very, very lucky

IN NYC

So here I am in NYC, working hard on an idea that's starting to feel quite nice... and getting ready to see some friends.

Have Mike and a night at a book launch and documentary screening tonight
Jen and a drink in the LeS tomorrow
Will and baby Jack at Ali's "Leaving New York" party tomorrow
And then back to Montreal on Friday... checking in with 'base camp' Toronto over the weekend

Busy but buzzy

Hurrah

To Paraphrase JFK

Or at least translate him from bad German into basic French

"Je suis un beignet"

Tired, but happy

I'm knackered right now... a mix of lots of walking, some sun, too much food and drink, late nights, airport runs, plane delays and time with people who I really like... 4am start tomorrow too; so gonna cut this short and see whether I can go back to bed.

Just a quickie really to say that I'm still alive and kicking...

Airport run

Montreal is now having its second worst summer since records began. Temperatures are 8c lower than usual. The sky is unusually grey and more and more storms keep thundering through; bringing masses of moisture as they do. Into this washout arrive our friends Gareth and Amy; and luckily they're people who really know how to entertain themselves... as we won't be around for bits of their trips and the city is doing all that it can to stop them venturing outside.

But I've set them a couple of 'go order a French breakfast, en Francais" tests and challenges and I'm sure that they'll rise to them. Must go and collect them, and then jet off myself

Photos to follow..

A weird feel in the city

New York is hot and it smells of sweat and garbage. But that's not the funk that seems to be in the air. The city that was defined by frivolous consumption now seems ill at ease with the very idea of ease itself... sitting awkwardly at pavement cafe tables suddenly very self aware. It's as though everyone here caught a glimpse of just how ridiculous their life had become and suddenly become self-aware... unable to relax back into the mode of 'all is good here in the greatest city in the nation'

It's not the hangover I'd been told to expect, it's a clumsy, awkwardness. As though the whole city is looking for a new definition of what constitutes an acceptable good time. If it's not Carrie and the Girls then it's what? who?

Californian cities get to keep their identities as laid back, creative and hippy
Seattle and Portland get to keep crustiness
The midwest gets to wallow in the decline of the rustbelt
While Miami maintains its sass and Latin spirit
And Boston still has its university

But what of New York - that small island off the coast of America that has lived as the amplified spirit of unconscious consumption? What does New York do now?

It's a question that seems to be being asked in the awkwardness I see all around me...
Answers on a postcard please

Highlights / Lowlights

Our friends Gareth and Amy are coming to stay later this week - which is of course the cue for me to start looking at the weather, checking out new and cool places, feeling responsible for their every second in town and generally fretting over all of the things that I can't affect... or effect... I think that it's the former... we shall see. Anyway I'm trying to relax and I have some work (my first since December) to distract me. So all is good there.

The good thing is that G&A (A&G sounds too financial) are pretty good at entertaining themselves...

Anyway they've been doing a lessons learned from their HIGHLIGHTS and LOWLIGHTS thing on their blog recently and it started me thinking. What have been my highlights/ lowlights over the last couple of years. And the weird thing is that there seem to be more of them since 2006 than I can remember in the previous decade.

I'm spinning this toward being a sign of real positive growth. Of being more aware and more in touch with my emotions than I have been previously, of the thick lacquer of British reserve cracking some under the strain of life... but it could just be that I'm bipolar and in need of a litany of medication available only in North America.

So without further ado here are my lessons learned of late


NO EXPERIENCE CHANGES YOU UNLESS YOU ALLOW IT TO

People believe that Cancer makes you wise. That walking up to the precipice of the valley of death, having a good old peer over and then deciding to bungee that than jump right now makes you somehow wiser. The truth is it first makes you wise, then smug and then you forget all about it and turn back into the asshole you always were. This process takes about 6 weeks. Unless you decide to not only look for enlightenment - but to implement some changes to. It took me 3 years to do that. But finally I feel as though I have.


PEOPLE MATTER MORE THAN ANYTHING

I've always been one for jettisoning people as we moved to the next place and the next adventure. It's not a deliberate thing but new cities throw up new challenges and bring new people into your life and before you know it you're thinking - "whatever happened to whatersface?" Which of course is a recipe for unhappiness. What matters are the people around you. Do everything you can to keep close to your friends (Facebook helps enormously) and you won't go far wrong


SOME PEOPLE ARE EMOTIONAL VAMPIRES

If you surround yourself with the kind of people who are without a spark for life it's easy to get sucked into the moshpit of misery. They'll suck you dry and then move onto the next person with their low energy, their lack of belief and their motivation-less wandering. If you have a friend who brings you down tell 'em so.. if that doesn't work... boot 'em to the sidewalk. The occasional complaint is fine, decades in the doldrums ain't


LOVE WHERE YOU LIVE

I lived in a town where the weekend highlight was a tour of the municipal dump. I did what I could to make the most of it, but ultimately it was an uphill struggle... and you want to have your breath taken by awe and beauty, not by struggle and the constant quest to find something to do. So do what you can to love where you live. And if it feels hard more often than it feels freeing - get on a Greyhound and head on out (be careful not to get beheaded though)


BOUNCE

It's good to bounce. To be childlike. To be free. To not care. So bounce. Do new things with enthusiasm. Sing too loudly. Jump in with both feet. Commit. Be silly. Wear something age inappropriate. Enjoy not caring. And do it with other people who don't eaither. Life's too short to be adult all of the time.


GET FIT and LEARN A LANGUAGE

It'll help you think. It will get you laid. It will stave off Alzheimers. It WILL get you laid.


More tomorrow.... gonna go throw Pizza Sauce at Jude now...

Ou est l'ete

Montreal is a city that throws itself into the arms of summer wholeheartedly and without reservation. Having been brutalized, battered and bewildered by the onslaught of another unexpectedly dreadful winter, the summer is greeted with festivals and outdoor cafes and live events, each topped with layers of glistening, newly revealed flesh, begging to be bronzed.

Right now we have the Jazz festival, the Zoofest, the Comedy Festival, Piknik Elektronik and a whole bunch of other things going on to ("Haiitian drumming fest? well since you're asking Parc Jean Drapeau, turn right at the water fest")

People here say things like "Life is short, summer is shorter" as they throw off their clothes and head for somewhere mortifyingly public.

So when summer is late and clouds spoil the sparkling blush of your second glass of Rose people get upset.

It's not as warm as it should be here. 23c rather than 28c. It's not as sunny either - humidity bringing in clouds in the afternoon. And people are pissed. They've been cheated. Out of the arms of brutal winter into the arms of a summer that turned out to be flaccid? Hell no! They won't stand for Summerectile Dysfunction... and they're out for blood.

Me? I'll admit that when the sun shines brightest the place is amazing. That its rays are transformative. But I'll settle for a watery sun here over the oft brilliantly blue skies and searing heat of Michigan. As I write - the sun is pouring through the window. I have a Cafe au lait in my hand, the cup that holds has the most beautiful graphic (it's from Toi, Moi et Cafe - si vous adorez le cafe) and I can hear birds in the trees outside.

Am I feeling cheated? Only out of the comedy festival... I had tickets for shows between July 20 and the end lined up and now need to be in New York all of that week. But that's money in the bank... and money in the bank means less time here in the winter.. so all is good....

Peace out

A change of plans

So the Seattle based thing may have become a New York / Atlanta thing - which is much easier for me and a lot less time in the air... hurrah

Still really interesting too.

Plus it gives me time to work on Burlesque Fest with the lady pictured above (I'm a HUGE fan of the strategically placed fan and volunteered to help in any way that I could, it's time to get involved with something good again after the A2 hibernation)

And I get to carry on with French... another good thing

Anyway this is short and hurried (like Napoleon on the retreat)... heading into the bank now

Something thoughtful soon... promise

Filling up fast

Next week is looking busy and not just with French classes....

- I have to fly to Seattle (an 8 hr meeting that means 16 hrs of travel)

- I have friends arriving from the US

- I have a meeting in Toronto

- I have meetings with the business people at the bank

And I have a few follow-ups to do with people who have expressed an interest in 'The Fish'


Might not sound like a lot - but looking at 16 hr days here...

Youch

The first day in the saddle

Today felt like the start of a new routine here. We got up, we went to French lessons "comment vous-appelez vous?" etc.
Four hours then Jude leaves level 4 and heads for home and I leave Level 1 and head for gym.

Home, homework, arrange dinner for tomorrow with an old friend who has a very cool company here.
Watch some TV - Lie to Me with Tim Roth

Call old friends who are in New York for a week (from Norway)
Head for bed

Good to have a new routine, however dull...

No need for panic

I didn't get my scans before I left the States. Not for the want of trying, but it seemed that once they got a sniff that my policy was up at the end of the month the good people at the insurance company stalled time and again in a bid not to have to pay for the last scan. But it's now been 6 months and 2 weeks since my last scan.

So when I woke up this morning with swollen glands I was convinced that death had found me (I'm a HUGE fan of the schlocky Final Destination movies) and that this was it. After all the sun was shining, we're in a city that we really like and may well come to love, we'd just come back from a BBQ with interesting people, the canal was abuzz with the young, the fun and the vibrant, there was a photo studio for hire at the end of the street, Jude had a job that met her exact requirements and an office with a view that surpassed them, I had the job that I'd been after forever and the start of something that seems even better and we'd just eaten amazing food from the market. It was too good to be true. It was in fact that way that our lives seem to others. It had to come to an end - surely we weren't allowed to be this happy?

We'll see. The glands are still up - but so are Jude's. Summer cold? Result of Jude having (already) spent too much time in the doctor's waiting room? Or cancer? Who knows... but the fact that I have to ask bugs me...gnnnrrr.

On a happier note - loads of kids at yesterday's July 4th BBQ... here's a pic

Oh Canada

So yesterday was Canada day and everyone was off hurrah. Jude and I headed down to the jazz festival site and drank wine while some middle eastern influenced Canadian jazz meandered along on a small side stage before heading home, jumping on our bikes and cycling along the canal for 10kms or so - stopping off for a bottle of water and a beer sampler at a local brewery. All very idyllic.

Today was Jude's first at work - cut short by the failure of a computer to arrive and the early arrival at home of the men who are employed to move her (boxes and boxes) of academic books to her office. It was also the day that the garbage disposal unit got lock in the 'On' position... noisily. We've asked that they remove it - as the only way to shut it off is to turn it off at the fuse and that takes out the dishwasher.

French lessons start Monday, we get driver's licenses tomorrow, friends heading over soon... all is well

Other than these nightmares... keep waking me up and carrying over to the next day. Hard not to carry over the awful things done to me at the hands of relatives and friends once I do wake up... which is hard for them to take... must try to sort THAT out....

STEVIE // LIVING FOR THE CITY

STEVIE // LIVING FOR THE CITY
Originally uploaded by DAN23-PHOTO

So as I write this a little over a mile and a half away Stevie Wonder is playing a free gig out in the open and in temperatures that are a perfect 20c... but we're at home because we're knackered from the unpacking, we've just gotten cable and because we know that living here means this is the kind of thing that you can skip and not regret forever. Should we be there, probably. Are we psyched to have the choice? absolutely

Almost unpacked

Well we're finally sitting on our own sofa, albeit surrounded by empty boxes, but happy just for the familiarity of the things around us. The furniture (finally) arrived today and things went pretty smoothly. At 8am a man in a Smart Car came and picked up Judith, whizzing her to customs, where they cleared in record time and raced back as fast as 600cc will let you.

The giganta van arrive minutes later and parked right outside the house... parking permits had been obtained, people had been moved, no parking signs had been be erected all over the curbs and things stated to move.

4 houses, 160 boxes and a lot of sweat later the boxes were in, the furniture was together and we started to unpack the bits and pieces that make life easier but moving harder (we don't use the lemon squeezer often - well for cocktails we do - but it takes the same time to unpack as the toaster.

Anyway things feeling good here.

Sunday saw me heading to the local camera store and boarding a bus with them, some Sony reps and a couple of events people for a photo tour of old Montreal. They brought drinks, sandwiches, camera bodies and a whole bunch of lenses for people to try out and much fun was had... I loved the fixed 300mm f2/8 that they handed me; but it was heavy and it was $7000; both of which made it seem less like something to splurge on. Enjoyed the 11-16 though it made me feel like a realtor and couldn't see much difference between the Zeiss and my old Minolta when it came to 28-70 (though the Zeiss was quieter)

Enough though - gonna watch a movie now. Have upstairs and the main bedroom to do tomorrow.

Should be fun

And the beat goes on...

Before I start this let me just say that I hate Chase bank. Good. That's done and now I can get on with the catch-up.

Montreal continues to surprise... extreme heat gives way to violent rain storms, the wind gets up and the people know to take cover but still it feels like a cool place to be.

We've not done much other than rush from appointment to appointment but we've still managed to take in a sniff of the air, meet the neighbors and generally start to feel as though this was a good idea.

Next week the jazz festival starts... with Stevie Wonder playing for free and no doubt tens of thousands of people trying to look as though they haven't noticed that the blind walrus lost it years ago. 'Jazz' is defined pretty loosely it seems, but it's all very musician noodly - so I'm sure that it will be fun.

Next 24 hrs - dinner with a new colleague of Jude, a photo tour of old Montreal with a Sony Photo rep for me and some long walks with the dog.

Boring post, huh?

A new space

So today is all about doing the things that set me up for working properly.

I have an appointment at a new gym, I'm sitting in the Cluny Art Bar



And I'm working again. Which is actually very nice. Not paid work, but just doing the stuff that I need to get done.
We've (almost) arranged cleaners and car insurance, we have lovely QC plates on the car and we're tan to within an inch of Orange

Life is sweet right now... amazing what 30c and a bit of cool can do for you, huh?

Thinking like the Quebecois

Today is a kind of national holiday in Quebec. Or rather it would be a national holiday if 0.6% of the people had switched their vote in the referendum and Quebec had gone it's own way as a country rather than a province. Anyway as they'd picked out an Independence day, and being careful to guard against waste, Quebec has a provincial holiday exactly one week before Canada has a holiday of its own.

So with the sun shining, the digital thermometers saying 28c and nothing to do we decided to head for the park and for the beach. The trouble was, so did everyone else. Which meant traffic, a parking spot 5km from the beach and a long walk through the park to a beach that already looked like this and still had 1000s of people pouring down towards it, hot body after hot body.

We bailed, headed for the nearest Marina, had some lunch and headed for home.... old? Nah, just sans beachwear until our stuff turns up and sans sun tan lotion and towels (burns and sandy crevices, ouch) for the nude beach...

Countryside was lovely though

Efficiency hits a speed bump

well insured
Originally uploaded by sashamd

So today I wanted to register the car and get my Quebec plates.

I gathered up all of the paperwork and headed down to the SAAQ to plead my case.

Well I tried to... but first of all the station closest to the SAAQ was closed for renovation. Still the bus worked and I was soon there - only to be greeted by a woman as unpleasant as she was unqualified.

"You are missing a form!" she barked

"Really?" I asked, eyebrows raised in a roguish Roger Moore way

"Yes!" she exclaimed

"Which form?" I asked, reasonably

"Go 'ere and get the form!" she barklaimed

"And which form should I ask for?" I inquired

"Zay will know!" she emphatically quoth and that was that

Two hours later I'm down at the Institute du Pinstitute, located in the Chateau Gâteaux in front of customs.

"There is no other form" said the nice lady."This is everything, 'ere is my number, if you 'ave any more problems, make zem call me"

Unable to accept good news regarding the car at this point I then called the SAAQ - except that their office doesn't take incoming calls.

So I called the RIV (the people who register imports)

"You're RIV exempt" purred Catwoman "the woman at the SAAQ may not have seen that before, ask to see her superior and if there is a problem have them call us."

So tomorrow I head back to the SAAQ, Judith, two phone numbers and the same forms in hand....

but with a new Blackberry in my pocket (thank you Rogers) and with a spring in my step "Bring me your superior, you stupid woman. And I do not mean the monkey that you 'ave in the back - though it too is superior to you"

---> My life does feel like an episode of 'Allo 'Allo right now

But what does life in Montreal look like?

Well I'm glad you asked. Here's what Saturday looked like. It started early with Jude up painting things and fixing the areas where my inexpertise with masking tape was all too evident. As she slaved I walked, with the dog, along the canal. Now I usually tend to think of canals as places where old shopping carts and perverts too long in the tooth and short in the genitals to cause a real stir at the mall go to die. Throw in the odd wheezing swan and asthmatic child throwing mould sporing bread to cannibalistic ducks and you get the perfect canal picture.

But this one is a real fixer upper. They rent kayaks, people on rented bikes whiz by yelling "Monsieur, a droit" not realizing that the time it takes me to translate such a piece of information is a split second longer than they have to get around me. The houses by the canal are beautiful and the old warehouses are sprouting young professionals faster than the young professionals are spawning Jeremys and Voilets.

Anyway the walk is a couple of hours long and is followed by coffee at the local coffee shop where Velcro, usually used go being chained outside, is delighted to join the legion of big dogs resting contentedly at the feet of caffeinating owners.

Home and lunch before deciding that we really do need some clothes if we're going to meet people before the 29th - when our stuff gets into town. So we head into downtown (15 mins) and start shopping. The streets are full, the discounts are deep and at one point we stumble into "Ze largest outdoor fashion show in North America" - where it seems dancing is encouraged and hotness is a requirement rather than an option.

Newly fashioned up we head home, change, take some pictures and head across the street for pizza at a nice open air cafe before jumping in a taxi (a taxi!) to the McConnell ice arena where an ex-figure skater (or as he thinks it should be called "Flower Glider" is doing a stand-up show. He's not at all bad - therapy on wheels and better than the last rollerblading theatrical experience Jude had (as a St John's ambulance person she witnessed Starlight Express derailing as they switched from rollerboots to rollerblades)

Home again and we're just in time to watch the Spanish entry into the Summer Fireworks Festival explode over downtown... before heading for bed and watching two episodes of True Blood.

And that's a Saturday for us... me's happy

Canada - a model of personable efficiency?

Well so far the Canadians have proved a model of efficiency.

Take for instance our Social Insurance Number. In the US getting my Social Security Number was a palaver that took 11 weeks, saw me without a bank account, phoneless and unable to be paid in anything other than cash. It turned me into a 'kooky grandmother' in essence. Here we went down to the bright, airy and spacious Canada Center, filled in 6 questions and were given a number on the spot. Done. No having to carry cash for miles and miles, no suspicion, no distant processing centers with long wait times - just a big smile and a 'Welcome to Canada'

Flushed with success we headed to Ikea for a French Press, a Day Bed, a guest bed, a mattress and other 'sundry items'. We paid them at 2pm - at 5pm there was a man standing in our living room with a mattress perched atop his head asking where we wanted the stuff. And same day delivery was cheaper.

And finally the people at Bell called, in person, to check that we had a computer at home ahead of an internet install this morning. "We know that you've just moved in so we wanted to make sure we didn't have to bring a tester?"

As I said - efficient and personable. We'll see how the bank goes today and how the car goes on Monday

Looks like we made it

Berries, Atwater Market
Originally uploaded by Scorchez

So here we are in Montreal. The car is in, the work permits are huge but securely stapled, the dog has walked all the way along the canal (well a couple of miles anyway) and I'm stealing internet until mine arrives on Friday.

Journey was long and in parts treacherous with visibility down to almost nothing as the rain lashed down and the trucks sent up spray... but we kept plugging on and last night as we sat on the outside terrace of a local restaurant, munching on Saumon Xochih and crepas it all seemed very worth it.

Now off to the marche for petit dejeunais and then to get our Social Insurance numbers

Pack'd

So our stuff is packed and wending a slow way towards Montreal
We get it back on June 29th... until then it's the clothes we stand up in and an air mattress for us

packers were great
everything looks set

electricity turned off early... making it a bitch to clean the place
but if that's the worst thing that happens to us, I'm down with it

again a shitty post - but we're offline and on the run here

Image from this weekend's shoot

Dreary's Photo Casebook

Dreary's Photo Casebook
Originally uploaded by stevenjude

So with blogger down this morning and removal men no doubt downing sweet tea and bacon sandwiches in the diner around the corner prior to descending upon us I thought that I'd try a blog from Flickr.

We've packed what we need and stored it in a neighbor's place
We've arranged to take the cats to a friend
The dog is off to daycare at any second
And the computers are about to be stored as I remove the cable boxes

I guess we're finally on the move

The start of the summer season

All things Ann Arbor and summery are now in full swing. Top of the Park got off to a subdued start with large crowds and so-so entertainment - plus plenty of begging. "Give $3 to keep TotP Free" seemed to be the slogan... with the fact that a near mandatory donation being imposed to keep an event free seemingly not really rankling anyone but me.

Then there was the Green Festival. Which seemed to be a trade show for hybrid cars and people who install high energy windows.

And a party at an Art Gallery - that was so full we skipped it.


More yesterday then than in all of the winter months combined... and time for me to start packing up my "don't touch this" stuff

Back on the whine... with prettier pics

So yesterday I called out insurance company to ask about the 30 Day extension into Canada that they'd promised me - covering the car until it gets Canadian registration and is able to be covered by a Canadian company.

"I'm not sure who told you that" they said
"You did" I replied, truthfully
"Nope, sorry. You'd better start calling"


So I call the Canadian Insurance agency
Who put me through to Canadian Insurance bureau
Who closed at 4.30


I call a local agent
Who gives me the number of a broker who "Does this all of the time, and can help by phone in minutes"

I call the broker who says "This is most unusual" spends an hour calling around and then calls back and says "Bad news"

"But people leave the US for Canada all the time" I say
"Well they don't seem to be insured when they do it" he says

So we call a friend. She's moving up this week. Her Insurance company is here and in Canada. They've been great.
I call them "No problem" they say "But we're about to close, go online and fill in the details"


I go online and fill in the details.
On the last page it crashes.


I go back through everything - this time I get beyond payment. Hurrah.
And then it crashes
And tells me that the quote has expired

I go to my bank statement and the money has been taken.
I call the number

"No money has been taken and there is no policy" they say
"But I'm looking at a statement that says it has"
"Let me get you customer service" they say

Customer service takes 45 mins to find me in the system.
Then gives me a pre-policy number... it take 72 hrs to get an actual number

"You crashed the system by trying to set up recurring payment before you have a policy number" she chastizes
"But the system asked me for details for recurring payment" I half scream, half-sigh
"Well that's a weird thing in the system" she says

12 hrs later I still don't know whether I'm insured
IN 45 mins I'm off to see someone in person

I'm sure that it will be a saga
And that having gone online will have been the worst thing that I could have done

Grrrr and Nrrrr