DFL Podcast

There's now a daily DFL podcast! In which Jonathan ("Because I haven't fully explored all the ways I can make a total ass of myself") reports on the day's last-place finishes, illuminates 'Great DFLs in History', and whinges about whatever else may take his fancy. Heh.

DFL is Back!

DFL, the brainchild of my friend Jonathan (McWetboy), is back up and running this weekend.

DFL is a blog (that began during the 2004 Athens games and now continues with Torino) which reports on and celebrates last-place finishes at the Olympics. It may sound like some kind of joke, but it most definitely is not. In Jonathan's own words:

...[W]hy do this, except to be a global prick?

Okay, that's part of it. But it's also to celebrate participation -- which gets too much short shrift at the Games, except with novelty acts like Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards and the Jamaican bobsled team at the 1988 Calgary Games -- instead of complete and utter triumph. Triumph is sexy, but participation is brave. And therein lies a tale.

I'm no athlete myself. In junior high, though -- before Osgood-Schlatter Disease put an end to my nascent track career -- I tried my hand at distance running. I entered my school's track meet and ran the 1,500 metres -- and trailed badly. In fact, I was lapped before the finish. One of my fellow students was laughing at me. But my gym teacher, hearing him, went up to him and said, "I don't see you running out there." And the kid, whose identity I never found out (I heard the story afterword from my teacher), began to cheer.

Remember that about the last-place finishers at these Olympics. They finished last, but at least they're there. And we're not.

It may seem an odd concept, but plenty of people appreciated it at the Athens games. At that time, internet interest meant that Jonathan's little blog project received considerable international media attention. So much so, that at its height in 2004, the DFL site received over 50,000 hits in a single day. Which, given that it was something he basically started for a lark, is absolutely amazing. So I'm watching the site more closely this time around. And of course, I think you should too. ;-)

Remembering Betty Friedan

An excellent, 25-minute segment this morning on CBC Radio 1's The Sunday Edition (a programme I have come to love, btw), concerning Betty Friedan, who died last week. The Guardian printed a slew of reiminiscences - some critical - from the likes of Germaine Greer, Naomi Wolf, Camille Paglia, and Sheila Rowbotham. But I don't think she got as much attention in the media as she deserved. Betty, perhaps more than anyone, would likely have appreciated the irony that her passing was overshadowed by the death of another woman, Coretta Scott King - whose fame derived from her husband.

I really need to re-read The Feminine Mystique.

Trying

Back to the Neptune this evening, for our first show of the new year. Tonight's play was Trying by Joanna McClelland Glass, and very good it was, too. I wasn't at all sure what it would be like - from the advance press, it seemed like it might be a bit fluffy and sentimental - but it wasn't at all. It had a serious and touching storyline, but with lots of laughs, and great characters. Given the rather heavy plays that the Neptune staged over the autumn, it was quite refreshing and very enjoyable.

Given that Valentine's Day is looming, we decided to make a night of it and went out for dinner beforehand. We chose Chateaubriand, a new French restaurant on Granville Street, and it was very good. I'm sure we'll go there again.

Freezing Here *chatter of teeth*

Woke up this morning and went downstairs, to find that the main floor of the house was freezing cold. The intrepid A. did some investigation and determined that the problem was likely a broken valve or a frozen pipe on the main floor (as we had heat upstairs and in the basement). After an hour or so of tinkering and checking out the insulation, the system kicked in. Not sure what the problem may have been, and if it will reoccur. Fingers crossed that it won't, as we are due for a snowstorm tomorrow.

It made us reconsider that estimate A. got last month for improving the insulation in the house. Not remotely cheap - but given the possibility of problems like these, and our continuing high fuel bills despite having installed a new furnace last year, we might want to look at the insulation thing. Between that, and the new roof we need to put on this summer, we're looking at some big house expenses in 2006. Whew...

MySpace

So this week, at the urging of C., I finally got with the MySpace thing (www.myspace.com) and set up a page over there. I can't imagine I'll spend all that much time there, though. It's good if there's a little community of people there that you know - in my case, some folks from the message board of a certain pop group that I frequent regularly - but other than that, it's quite an odd place.

MySpace seems mainly to be characterised by two things:

1. Music: a lot of bands now have MySpace pages, and the site is becoming very influential in promoting bands, apparently. In some cases, songs are made available for members there before being released more widely. So if you're into music, it's a good place to be.

2. Popularity and Cyber-Flirtation: the average MySpace user is in his/her teens or twenties, so there's quite a high-school vibe. There seems to be a lot of emphasis on how many 'Friends' you have, as well as on the photos you post, which you can submit for ranking. Unsurprisingly, the most popular people with the highest rankings seem to be those with the most provocative pics. Given the age range, most people are also single, so it can be a bit of a meat market, to say the least.

I have submitted no photos for ranking, and my profile indicates that I'm married and only looking for friends, but I've already been approached by a couple of dodgy men. 'Dave', for instance, sent me an 'add request' (whereby I can approve or deny his request to be my 'Friend'). But on looking at his profile, I discovered he was 43 years old and mainly interested in football and bikini babes. As he already had a slew of Playboy-type beauties as his 'Friends', I figured he had no need for the likes of me, and respectfully denied his add request.

Beyond all that stuff, MySpace is also a bit of a technical mess. In the evening, especially, the site can slow to a crawl, and many features don't always work, depending on how many people are logged in. The blog feature there is especially annoying, so I definitely have no plans to move this blog over there - in fact, I've put in a link so that anyone who stumbles across my profile there will be directed here if they wish.

Anyway. It's early days, so we'll see how things go. In the meantime, if you, Dear Reader, happen to be on MySpace, send me your profile address and I'll add you.

I'm a Blogger Eedjit!

*hangs head in shame*

Jonathan has just very politely brought it to my attention that I have not been moderating and publishing comments on this blog. Stymied, I went in and investigated, and found that I had switched on the 'comment moderation' option just before Christmas. So since then, whenever someone commented on one of my blog posts, the comment went into a holding area for my approval first. Except that I didn't realise I'd done this, and that I needed to go in and approve the comments before they would appear. Duh.

So I just went in and checked, and found a bunch of comments from my small group of regular readers. Apologies, all. Your comments have now been published. I did think it rather odd that no one had commented on any of my posts since round about Christmas...I thought that perhaps my posts had gotten very dull!

Serves me right for going and pushing buttons when I don't fully understand what they do. Needless to say, I've turned the moderation feature off now, so that comments will appear right away.

Brokeback Mountain

So we went to see the gay cowboy movie last night. It was pretty good. I read Annie Proulx's novella five or six years ago, and it didn't make much impression on me. As a result, this was one of the rare occasions where I've enjoyed the film more than the book. That may be because the film seemed more soft-focus and romantic than I remember the book being.

Quite a sad story. One of the things that struck me was how these two men had absolutely no language to speak about what was happening. So when things got difficult, they'd end up doing things like punching each other, instead of talking about how they felt. It's when I see things like that, that I reckon men may well be an alien species. ;-)

Anyway, I'm sure this film will drive all before it at the Oscars this year.

WTF?!? Part the Second

Wowee...it's been a while since I started this occasional series, hasn't it?

Popped round to the shops this morning. Just having a browse, when I discovered an altogether curious thing in the lingerie department. Seemingly, one can now purchase bras in half-sizes. Which, in a larger range, might perhaps make some sense. But the ones I looked at on the rack today were size 32½A. That's as in, half an A-cup. Why? How would this differ from the iconic 32AA of Judy Blume fame? Is it bigger? Smaller? Perhaps the most important question, however, is this: when one is so modestly endowed, can a precise fit be that important?

Looking at this particular garment earlier today, I recalled the memorable words of one of my aunts, first uttered many years ago: "That's not a bra - that's a baby chee-chee holder."

Blizzard

Welcome to February. After January's eerily warm temperatures, winter definitely came back last night. Started snowing and blowing around suppertime...continued all night...still howling out there now. Hard to tell until we can can get the doors open and go outside, but we seem to have had about 30 cm down. And with the wind, there's a lot of drifting.

Needless to say, there's no work for me today. All schools, universities and government offices are shut this morning, as well as shopping malls, etc. City buses have been suspended and police are advising everyone to stay off the roads until mid-afternoon (when the snow is supposed to stop falling). Even A. isn't venturing to work until later, and then only if the roads are passable (there are animals to look after, after all).

But first, he's got shovelling to do. So we're having a big cooked breakfast before either of us venture outside.