Canadian Thighs
Aug. 28th, 2003 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robotnik2004Well, I never saw Lynyrd Skynyrd, but I sure saw AC/DC...
—Drive-By Truckers, "Let There Be Rock"
Was it the power outage? A weird Asian virus? Or too much Alberta beef? Whatever it was, something swept through Toronto this summer and turned everyone there into head-banging AC/DC fans. I was back in the Canada last week, and everybody I know, from my trance-techno-spinning hipster friends to my Mozart-and-madrigal-loving Mom, was raving about how great AC/DC had been at the big Concert for Toronto, aka SARSstock. (My Mom is enough of a flower child to disapprove of that nickname, and more power to her. But when a meme sticks, it sticks.) I guess Angus, Malcolm, and Bri totally stole the show from Mick and Keef, the official headliners. I got nothing bad to say about AC/DC. I couldn't be happier to see them get their props. It's a puzzler, though.
On the subject, I should say that I had a great time last week in Canada. I got to see almost all of my sibs (and we all tele-conferenced with Beth and the babies via speakerphone) and a pretty large swath of my Torontonian friends. Perry & Tina were terrific hosts in their gorgeous new home in Toronto's Little Italy (mmm... cannoli...) and Gamma Fodder's party blew the doors off, but the best parts of the trip were, as always, the conversations: dissecting bobo-ness with Isa and Noah, holding forth on telephone history at the Victory Café, debating the D&D alignment of Indiana Jones, or catching up on the adventures of my Dad's buddy Pukeface* at the family dinner table. I am rich with loved ones. Of course, the visits are always too short, and I always wonder why I don't stay in better touch with my friends and siblings throughout the year. If only there was some kind of technology I could use to communicate with them over great distances...
* This is worth adding. So you see everybody in the little town my Dad grew up in had a nickname, and one of my Dad's friends was indeed known as "Pukeface." So Dad starts telling a story about him, and my brother's girlfriend Miranda says, "I'm sorry... I start laughing every time I hear the name Pukeface." And my sister Amy says, totally deadpan, "Why? Do you know him too?" Hee! My family deserves each other.
—Drive-By Truckers, "Let There Be Rock"
Was it the power outage? A weird Asian virus? Or too much Alberta beef? Whatever it was, something swept through Toronto this summer and turned everyone there into head-banging AC/DC fans. I was back in the Canada last week, and everybody I know, from my trance-techno-spinning hipster friends to my Mozart-and-madrigal-loving Mom, was raving about how great AC/DC had been at the big Concert for Toronto, aka SARSstock. (My Mom is enough of a flower child to disapprove of that nickname, and more power to her. But when a meme sticks, it sticks.) I guess Angus, Malcolm, and Bri totally stole the show from Mick and Keef, the official headliners. I got nothing bad to say about AC/DC. I couldn't be happier to see them get their props. It's a puzzler, though.
On the subject, I should say that I had a great time last week in Canada. I got to see almost all of my sibs (and we all tele-conferenced with Beth and the babies via speakerphone) and a pretty large swath of my Torontonian friends. Perry & Tina were terrific hosts in their gorgeous new home in Toronto's Little Italy (mmm... cannoli...) and Gamma Fodder's party blew the doors off, but the best parts of the trip were, as always, the conversations: dissecting bobo-ness with Isa and Noah, holding forth on telephone history at the Victory Café, debating the D&D alignment of Indiana Jones, or catching up on the adventures of my Dad's buddy Pukeface* at the family dinner table. I am rich with loved ones. Of course, the visits are always too short, and I always wonder why I don't stay in better touch with my friends and siblings throughout the year. If only there was some kind of technology I could use to communicate with them over great distances...
* This is worth adding. So you see everybody in the little town my Dad grew up in had a nickname, and one of my Dad's friends was indeed known as "Pukeface." So Dad starts telling a story about him, and my brother's girlfriend Miranda says, "I'm sorry... I start laughing every time I hear the name Pukeface." And my sister Amy says, totally deadpan, "Why? Do you know him too?" Hee! My family deserves each other.
