There, I said it. I am a man, and I enjoy a good love story more than I
would normally like to admit in any social situation. I also refuse to believe
that I am an anomaly. We males have too many ways in which to mask this,
standing behind a social norm that would be as inaccurate as when sloths mistake their arm for a branch
and fall to their deaths. It’s time to rise – a collective of man-romantics.
I was recently involuntarily subjected
to read Anne Michaels’ Fugitive Pieces for a class
this semester, and, while the book is a beautifully stylized natural history
marvel, I’m pretty sure my favourite parts were the subtle injections of
romance. Now, I’ve tried this before: with nothing left to read and yearning
for some literature, I forced myself to take on a Nora Roberts book entitled
The Three Fates last summer. Despite being a so called ‘romance novel’, I
wasn’t aroused in the least. I thought my story-book romance days were over.
But Micheals does something completely
different and much more to my liking. Her
version of a romance isn’t some smutty, overly-detailed repetitive patriarchal
half-porn, but a classic in descriptive beauty (without all the graphic parts).
I so appreciated her ability to describe the essence of a character though
another character, allowing for her poetic writing style to bleed elegantly
across each page. Romance wasn’t the centerpiece but a component part of a
larger story, told through the eyes of a fictional post-World War Two first
generation immigrant to Canada who struggled with identity, mental health and forming
a healthy love interest. It was beauty at its finest.
So why do I feel like the only man on
the interwebs to support the creative talent of romance media everywhere? Just
buck-up and admit it: we’re all suckers for a good love story, and there isn’t
anything wrong with this. So all you self-identified males who front an
emotionless manly-man guise can start acting like real dudes with hearts and
feelings and mushy stuff. After all, feelings are called feelings because we often can’t control them.
So let’s foster the feelings of males
everywhere, and put the MAN back in roMANtic.
*Looking for a little romantic inspiration? Buy Anne Michaels' Fugitive Pieces here.
When you think Canadian Road trip,
what’s your soundtrack? There are the obvious picks from home-grown greats like
The Hip, Rush, Neil Young, perhaps a little Morissette for good measure…Indeed, when it comes to
tunes that pair well with tarmac, Canada certainly isn’t shorthanded. Now, I’ve
already written about Canada’s
top ten road trips, so I could make
up a road trip playlist that includes every big hit from famous bands that
emerged in the North like some thoughtless pedestrian blogger. Or, of course, I
could instead create a different mix
of Canadian bands/songs that are equally as deserving of your car stereo (but
more unexpectedly so).
Yeah, I’ll do with the latter.
Stars:
Take Me to the Riot
We’ll start with the well-known Canadian
pop-rock collective Stars and their
enegetic single Take Me to the Riot. This
diverse music machine from Toronto and Montreal will soon have you chanting
‘take me to the beer store!’ or ‘take me to the in-laws! (but sedate me first!)’ or
‘take me…..just take me anywhere goddamnit!’. Turn it up or get out.
Hey
Rosetta!: Seeds
Newfies: people born for road trips and
road trip tunes. This example is no different. The eclectic rockers from
St.John’s have created yet another piece we can enjoy cranked loud behind the
wheel. This song was actually written
about being on the road. How the hell can you ask for anything more
perfect?
Land
of Talk: Quarry Hymns
You need to vary your roadtrip playlist.
While the above two selections say ‘DRIVE, motherfucker, DRIVE!’ this one in
particular be all like ‘drive, but relax yourself. Be the car. Breathe it in.
Flow with the road. Eat a fruit salad. Pee in the cornfield.’ Allow lead singer
Elizabeth Powell to sooth that travellin’ bug and transcend into a world of
open air and ridiculously expensive gas stations in the middle of nowhere. This
is a hymn for the road-weary.
The
Strumbellas – I Ain’t Tryin’ to Die
We’re in need some serious country
infusion here, but not the ‘I shot my horse in the leg’ kind of country music.
Nay – only the indie country delivered by six-piece folk band The Strumbellas. Nothing really makes
more sense on a roadtrip than some good ol’ foot stompin’ yee-haws and a
“Hallelujah” for freedom. Tis a toast to the road; just not when we’re driving.
*The Strumbellas are so awesomely indie
I couldn’t find a video of this song. Instead, here’s a link to the
Soundcloud version
of I Ain’t Tryin to Die.
Great
Lake Swimmers – Your Rocky Spine
An ode to Canadian landscape, tastefully
likening it to a sexy ass woman. That’s what you get with Great Lake Swimmers –
polite, articulate…but master seducers nonetheless. Originally from the small
town of Wainfleet, Ontario, the Swimmers continue to crank out melodic folk
rock that was built for the travelling person.
The
Arcade Fire: Keep the Car Running
Ah, another under-celebrated Canadian
great: The Arcade Fire. Other than producing songs that are just epic, the Fire
continue to embrace their astonishing creative scope by producing music that
fits all kinds of descriptions and categories. It goes with the territory when
you have a million different musicians in one band who are all riding on a
neverending rainbow of innovation. This time around, you’ll want keep your car
(and its stereo) running. Loudly.
Tokyo
Police Club: Favourite Food
Road trips are perfect opportunities to
take a trip down memory lane, and Tokyo Police Club offers you a perfect mental
vehicle. This group of youngsters from Newmarket have grown recent notoriety for
their fast-pased, post punk style with catchy riffs and light-hearted lyrics. “Favourite
Food”, originally released on their first LP entitled Champ, is a departure from the aforementioned formula, but
a perfect piece for the road.
The
Weakerthans: One Great City!
Road trips are for seeing the unseen and
escaping life in the smog dome. Winnipeg natives The Weakerthans are all too accustomed to the daily routine,
perfectly summarizing life in the city with their working-class antithesis One Great City!. Insert ‘Winnipeg’ with
your home town, hop in a car and let the Weakerthans sail you out of the
concrete jungle and into open air.
My hypothetical online dating profile wouldn’t have an exhaustive list of interests: biking, traveling, writing and…..breakfast. I. Love. Breakfast.
Noms. Breakfast in Tweed: Vegetarian Style.
I mean, how can you not? Sunday mornings were meant for greasy, delicious and hearty foods. In breakfast we find the answers to life’s most important questions: what’s a high-energy solution for starting the day off awesomely? Breakfast. What’s the best remedy to shake off last night’s drinks? Breakfast. How do I avoid an awkward morning with what’s-her-name I just woke up beside? Walk of shame, then breakfast. How can you ask for anything better?
So when I was given the opportunity to eat at one of Southern Ontario’s best breakfast joints while en route to Ottawa last weekend to see family, the answer was easy. We would deviate from the monotony of Highway 401 and head northeast from Belleville, stopping just before the road meets highway 7 in the small town of Tweed, Ontario. While this tiny collection of farmers, small businesses and local restaurants is a typical rural settlement full of quaintness and familiarity, tucked in the main drag is a breakfast joint that rivals the best: The Gateway.
My early morning culinary adventure began as I stepped from the snow-covered sidewalks of Victoria Street on a Friday and into the interior warmth of the Gateway Family Restaurant. While I’d like to imagine that I fit in well with the locals, I’m also pretty sure my polished leather Clarks and flannel print scarf beamed an obvious ‘city folk’ label the minute every other patron acknowledged my presence. “Never mind”, I told myself, “we’re here to get our breakfast on”. And getting our breakfast on we did. Three eggs, multiple cheeses, two slides of toast and a pile of fried potatoes later, I was as satisfied as I could have been after demolishing everything on my plate.
Though the food was exceptional, the enjoyment of a meal at the Gateway doesn’t end there. What I appreciated most about the experience was how unapologetically normal this place was. The flashiness of breakfast spots in the city is all but alive at the Gateway. Instead, wood paneled dividers and cheaply framed photos create an ambiance of plainness that refuses complication. Everything is straightforward and real. No bullshit. A breakfast that fills your hunger and expectations without the fireworks show. I liked this place immediately.
So next time you’re driving route 36 towards Ottawa, be sure to stop in the small town of Tweed for a breakfast you’ll not soon forget. We recommend the Gateway special.
It’s approaching Saturday night,
mid-February, and a classic Canadian snowstorm has fastened its frozen-hellish
grip on Toronto. Through the windows of a westbound subway pulling out of
Kennedy Station I can see the early brew of rough weather through the twilight
of a cloudless setting sun. Tonight I am traversing the Bloor line and back –
in its entirety – to bare witness to the MABELLEarts third annual
inside/outside mid-winter parade. Also, I have been commandeered to help out;
just exactly how I am unsure of at this point.
Mabelle Park in summer.
The high-rise, high-density
neighbourhood of Mabelle Park, located a five minute walk Northwest of
Islington Station, mirrors countless other subsidized housing projects
instigated by the Toronto Housing Corporation (THC) in the 1960’s and 70’s
throughout the Greater Toronto Area. Characterized by high rates of crime and
living conditions close to squalor, places like Mabelle Park would generally be
on a list of locations to avoid on a Saturday night. But not this Saturday
night.
When a community becomes segregated from
vital resources and falls into poverty, its members are either forced to live
their lives hand-to-mouth or relocate (an option that is also off the table for
many due to strict economic pressures). At Mabelle Park, a third solution was
created after its residents became too fed up with political ignorance and
social marginalization: build a new community foundation, based on inclusivity
and self-expression, to allow for an outlet to ‘make art, tell stories and
creatively transform the place that is Mabelle’. In 2007, MABELLEarts was
founded under the name ‘Pigeon Creek Collective’ to give that voice back to the
people living in the area.
Drummers warm up before the parade.
MABELLEarts has since unashamedly
proclaimed their place as a vibrant community arts group in Toronto, holding
several events each year and programming weekly with both Mabelle residents and
community artists from around Toronto. On this particular night of inclement
weather, we flooded onto the stoops and front doors of Mabelle Park and took
the inside outside, marching along snowy sidewalks with a drum ensemble around
an outdoor living room and jars of preserved memories. At the end we all
enjoyed hot food and cider made by MABELLEarts members. Because our group at
PARC joins in the process of transforming space and transforming lives, they
were there too. It was a night for celebrating amidst the whiteness.
For MABELLEarts and PARC members, these
are the things that make them feel a part of a community. The motivation to
construct and plan a night of this capacity becomes the dedication of individuals
who may have never before been involved in something of this scale. The passion
behind everything is unobtrusively
present. The lives of people right in front of you, hanging in a bed strewn
under a tree or radiating around a desk lamp set in the snow. You are caught in
the moments of someone else’s life bleeding into your own. It is as close to
pure magic as possible.
We give ourselves to our youth – through
meticulous parenting, with the millions spent on their education each year, in
the organizations dedicated to eradicating the poverty, suffering and abuse of
our little ones; all good endeavours indeed. But what about the elderly?
The big questions remain in many a North
American family: who will take care of our elders after they cannot take care
of themselves? What is to be done with our aging population, as the ‘baby
boomers’ retire en masse and consider full time care facilities (most of which
are already overflowing)? Moreover, who will
stand up to support these wrinkled people? Not droves of us, as we so clearly
see with those who aid the other side of the age spectrum. It is the absurd
conundrum of an ignored demographic – one that has the potential to change our
harmful ways…If only we would listen.
Old people playing video games and whatnot.
Old people are our history in the flesh
– nay, temples of infinite wisdom that
we so commonly turn our backs to, discharge as a bunch of outdated prudes who
have fallen into the so called ‘generation gap’. All the while we repeat our
mistakes as if completely blind to the lessons waiting to be learned from
yesteryear. We seek answers to all of life’s questions yet fail to consult
those who have done the most living. These are the people who are most in touch
with the past, who have beautiful stories of an era behind us, of an age we
only romanticise as being ‘simpler’; more sophisticated and dusted with an air
of all-together-ness. We are so terribly far from the truth but too stubborn
and selfish to admit this to ourselves, never mind other people.
Being wrapped up in the present doesn’t
have to mean we forget where we came from. Everyone has roots; everyone was
created from a lineage that survived the circumstances which led to their
existence – your existence. We are
bound to this history whether we know it or not – it lives in our blood and in
the people who are still around to tell you about it. Other cultures feel it
rightfully appropriate to respect and revere their elders as ‘repositories of
cultural and philosophical knowledge’; the Cree (one of the largest groups of
First Nations/Native Americans in North America) rely on these members to pass
down wisdom and stories - the backbone
of their culture – to the younger populace. West African tribes such as the
Ogoni people of Nigeria or the Benga in Guinea rely heavily on their elders as
spiritual protectors and for assistance in raising children.
We must end the ignorance of those who
have lived a life we claim we know everything about yet still struggle for harmony.
The oldest among us have the capacity to help us find meaning, direction and
even happiness, so why do we shun them into the corners as mere social and
moral responsibilities? We can locate ourselves within those who have lived
long before us – all we have to do is slow down and pay attention.
Happy 100th Birthday to the beautiful Vera Nicholson! Sending love to you, my dear, for making the world a much brighter place to live in.
John Berger’s timeless article entitled Why Look at Animals brought forth to the
scientific community an extremely important paradigm for howhumans understand non-human animals.
This paradigm was explained by Berger as a dichotomy of perceptions; on one
side, the physical animal is represented. Its flesh, natural habits and
ecosystem are embodied in the reality that plays out in front of us and is
something that can be studied, analysed and predicted. The other side of this
dichotomy represents the symbolic characteristics
of an animal; be it the spiritual and mythical manifestations of an animal or
its use in folklore. When comparing non-human animals to humans, Berger (1977)
states that ‘Animals are born, are sentient and are moral. In these things they
resemble man. In their superficial anatomy – less in their deep anatomy – in
their habits, in their time, in their physical capacities, they differ from
man. They are both like and unlike’ (Berger, pg.6).
I have a thing for Macaws because Macaws
are freakin’ awesome, no exceptions. Since the inception of the Spanish
Conquest and European Exploration into South America, macaws have been revered to
the Western world as some of the most beautiful and stunning species of parrots
on earth. Often referred to as ‘rainbows with wings’, spotting the macaw’s
trademark patches of brightly coloured feathers and large beak is not very
challenging, especially if one ventures into the thick of the Amazon in early
spring during their mating season.
But what really blows my mind is that not
only do wild macaws generally mate for life, most macaws will also be observed
in the wild alongside their mating partner and this close relationship will
usually last their entire lifetime as macaws are incredibly social creatures
that bond together for extensive periods. Macaw researchers have also observed mortality
rates in macaws and have noticed an interesting trend between partners after
either male or female has deceased: usually within two to five months after one
partner has died the other partner will also
die, and scientists believe this phenomenon is linked to macaw depression in post-mortem. This
act of complete dedication can be reflected on traditional monogamous values in
North America; the profound relationship shared between macaw mates can be
perceived as an ideological aspiration, deep-rooted in Western notions of
commitment and devotion.
Hyacinthe Macaw 'couple' in flight,
Unfortunately, because ecological
degradation is now the leading cause of species loss in the Amazon, the slowly
declining rates of macaw populations in Central America are currently low enough
to deem this animal at risk. Scientists fear that the fragmentation of macaw
habitat will eventually isolate certain populations and consequently weaken the
number of species beyond feasible restoration.
But the case for Macaws is now being
fought on a multi-front level as Macaw poaching and chick selling has become
uncontrollable between Western and Central American economies. Because poachers
can make large amounts of money from the sales of living macaws, a great deal
of pressure has been put on locals to generate revenue by capturing and
promoting these animals as domestic pets.
Limited mobility, lack of companions or
mates and low stimulation are all factors that contribute macaw depression
during domestication. It is our concepts of entitlement that have prevented us
from realizing that these animals should not be kept as pets.
A development in education initiatives
to raise awareness on the effects of macaw domestication in North America while
ensuring that the illegal pet trade can be greatly reduced via strict
monitoring programs is imperative to ending the abuse of this incredible animal.
Secondly, successful conservation strategies in Equilateral South American
communities should be used to model the future of macaw protection in their
natural habitat. Adopting a principal of local ownership and knowledge-based
leading will be essential to reaching this goal.
The macaw represents a plethora of
values and connections to the human world and developing strategic conservation
authorities is crucial to the survival of this amazing creature. Full macaw
conservation will not be achieved within the next few years as programs
dedicated to this mission must have a far reach and be made permanently
sustainable. The case for macaws might be a tough one, but the preservation of
this species is important to both the human and non-human worlds.
If there’s one
thing we’ve learned from Korn’s
cover of Another Brick in the Wall
it’s that quality music just can’t escape the tainting of unimaginable creative
slaughter after it finds the hands of some angsty teen’s pants eruption of a
‘band’ with an oversized ego. Let’s face it: in the world of musicians playing
other musicians stuff, the majority of covers aren’t even fit for Hillary
Duff’s IPod.
But there are
exceptions. In some far flung corner of the musical universe, people are making
sense of what it means to recreate a musical masterpiece, and the results are
ear-gasmic. Get ready for a cover apocalypse: 8 re-does you’ll want to re-do again and again.
1) Bon Iver covers Bonnie Raitt’s I Can’t Make You Love Me
In an off the floor studio solo take,
budding alt-folk musician Bon Iver appeases his fans by beautifully modifying an
early 90’s classic. The song, originally sung by Bonnie Raitt but made famous
by Bruce Hornsby, is elegantly stripped and simplified by Justin Vernon (under
the pseudo name of ‘Bon Iver’), yet somehow also elevated by the powerful
vocals set beside a grand piano.
We receive another small treat during
the last moments of the song as Vernon incorporates a snippet of ‘I Found
Love’, another (great) Raitt hit.
The original:
The cover:
2) Youth
Group covers Alphaville’s Forever Young.
We’re moving backwards in time to the
German ‘synthpop’ band Alphaville and
their less famous original single ‘Forever Young’. Although the band couldn’t
attribute their success to this piece, a plethora of covers would arise during
the subsequent two decades, most of which were total crap and included people merely rapping over the
original (thanks, Jay-Z, but no
thanks).
Insert
Australian-native band Youth Group. After being asked to cover the song by
American T.V producers from The O.C,
which is a terrible series with an amazing soundtrack, Youth Group responds
with an actual quality rendition. Infusing Australian rock-pop with retro
roots, Youth Group almost one-ups Alphaville…..Almost.
The original:
The cover:
3) Tokyo Police Club covers Kelly Clarkson’s Since U Been Gone
So perhaps
this example won’t fit into the ‘musical masterpiece’ category, but that
doesn’t mean it can’t turn into something awesome. Here we have one
contemporary artist borrowing from another, although both are from completely different and opposing genres.
Tokyo Police Club, a four piece post-punk/pop band from Newmarket, Ont.,
decided in their latest cover album that selecting radically dissimilar songs
to play would be a good idea. One such outcome was a cover of Kelly Clarkson’s
‘Since U Been Gone’.
Whether you
like it or not, it’s hard not to admit how TPC has transformed this pop
annoyance into something a little more tolerable. And kind of funny, when you
think about it.
The original
(listen at your own risk):
The cover:
4) Sun Kil Moon covers almost an entire Modest Mouse
Album (and still keeps it classy).
Modest Mouse
fans are usually surprised to learn about how Sun Kil Moon’s Mark Kozelek
pretty much reformatted an entire set of their works in his 2005 album ‘Tiny
Cities’. All eleven songs from this era are Modest Mouse reworks including
covers of ‘Ocean Breathes Salty’, ‘Tiny Cities Made of Ashes’ and ‘Dramamine’.
Listen as
Kozelek tampers the eccentric nature of a Modest Mouse tune and wraps each song
in his authentic bliss. This selection is but a snippet of his work but is a
personal favourite of mine – enjoy ‘Tiny Cities’:
The original:
The cover:
5) James Vincent McMorrow covers Steve Winwood’s Higher Love
Anyone who grew
up in a household that included a radio auto-tuned to any station boasting ‘today’s
hits, yesterday’s classics’ will instantly recognize the aforementioned song. This
chart topping hit from the mid-80’s once preceded the likes of Madonna and some
other band called Bananarama,
and will forever be etched into the minds of young adults who were forced to listen
to it in their youths.
Fast forward a
quarter of a century and meet Irish singer/songwriter James Vincent McMorrow,
an indie folk artist with the larynx of an angel. In true JVM style, Higher Love is usurped and transformed into
a chilling piano cover and thrown into the eardrums of many lucky listeners.
The original:
The cover:
6) Moneen covers Alexisonfire’s Accidents while Alexisonfire covers Moneen’s Passing of America
For the early
21st century punk rocker in all of us, this little treat is a
must-have. Moneen and Alexisonfire are known industry buddies, often making
surprise guest appearances at each other’s shows or, in this case, covering each
other’s songs in an EP cleverly entitled ‘The Switcheroo Series’. The 6 track
album includes two covers of each respective bands songs and an original by
both Alexisonfire and Moneen. The results are both creative and hilarious.
Moneen’s ‘Accidents
are on purpose’ (original Alexisonfire song here):
Alexisonfire’s
‘Passing out in America’ (original Moneen song here):
7) Yael Naim covers Britney Spears’ Toxic
Again, not an original we’d quickly
throw on the awesome shelf. On the contrary, if there’s anything we’ve learned
thus far it’s that sucky music doesn’t have to stay that way if someone far
more talented can get their hands on it. My next example: Yael Naim’s
completely creepy and memorizing version of a Britney Spears song that came
straight out of the local sewage treatment facility (a place vaguely familiar to
Spears).
I honestly have a hard time reaching
the end of this cover. Not because it isn’t great, but because I start yearning
for faux leather spandex and a life size Russian doll at about the first
chorus. Let me know if you feel the same way or, you know…Just me?
The original (GAAHHHHH DON'T DO IT! DON'T DO IT!):
The cover:
8) The Postal Service covers Phil Collins’ Against all Odds.
Our final cover finds its way out of a
side project from the guy who made nerdy kids everywhere a desirable demographic.
Yes indeed, Ben Gibbard is taking a slice from one of the best percussionists
we’ll ever know, and he’s going Postal. Deal with it.
The original:
The cover:
This list is by no means exhaustive. In
fact, you probably don’t agree with every entry. Hey now, there’s a comment
box! Look at that. A place to voice yourself.
