Day 34: Transfer VHS to DVD.

Posted on April 3, 2012 by LaLa

“Nobody puts Baby in the corner.”  Sigh!  When Dirty Dancing was superseded by Ghost, It became official:  I was hooked on Swayze.  I even loved Road House and Point Break.  Looking back, that life-sized poster of Patrick that hung on the back of my dorm room, welcoming me back after each school day, is almost embarrassing…  Almost.  (Clearly, it takes a lot).

My immediate family is notoriously bad at gift giving, or maybe I’m just a bad gift receiver, probably a bit of both, but I distinctly remember receiving a VHS copy of Ghost for Christmas one year.  Bullseye!  So that’s what kids meant when they used to talk about how they loved presents, instead of becoming all anxiety-ridden about acquiring yet another rug hooking kit, collapsible suitcase (with the price tag still on) or Grandma’s old blouses.  All true stories, by the way, and pure gold as far as story-telling goes!  Or so I’ll inform my therapist someday (as soon as I find one that offers vouchers).

So when I recently stepped over a basket of VHS tapes at home, I thought to myself, right.  It’s time – those gotta go, my beloved Ghost video included.  Call it kismet, but when a deal of the day recently came up to transfer VHS tapes to DVD, I jumped all over it, not once, not twice, but right up to the 10 voucher per person limit.  Booya!!

No doubt there is some really simple tool you can purchase at The Source that will do this for you, but the convenience of just handing them over in a plastic bag is almost priceless, costing surprisingly a fair bit less than buying them all again on DVD or downloading them from the web somewhere (believe it or not, I am actually that lazy).  The real boon will be moving the countless hours of video taken during a trip to New Zealand, Australia and Hawaii with some friends back in the late nineties, along with a few other sucker videos, like from when I did my first two skydives and didn’t tell my Mom, but just sent her the VHS tape for her birthday.  Isn’t payback a bitch?

Anywho… Just like when we transferred our much loved CDs to .mp3s (okay, that’s still on the to do list), it only seems prudent to convert these videos now to a format that will be upgradable to the next generation of media, like holo-teleporta-vision-onics, and so far, DVD seems to be a reasonable intermediary (of course I will be backing up these precious DVDs post haste to digital format… right after I burn my CDs… you know, soon-ish.  Probably even this decade!)  Hmm.  Any summer students out there looking to make a little moolah on the side?  There simply has to be more lackadaisical loafers like me who’d be willing to pay some geek $10/hour to rip their CDs and DVDs to .mp-whatever format for them, and/or import them to iTunes.  Just saying…  Could be a nice add-on service while babysitting.  Go on, tell them it was LaLa’s idea!

But ya, I’m thinking how, in the future, people will just be able to think about an actor, and the movie images will suddenly project from their forehead, and they’ll be able to scroll through the google-plex of data by merely twitching their nose.  I want to be sure my man Swayze is amongst my search results.

And in somewhat loosely related freaky futuristic thoughts, may he rest in pieces, uh, I mean, peace, wouldn’t you hate to be cryogenically frozen and wake up next to Michael Jackson?  Cause you’d be wondering if some parts of his face had not thawed properly.  And then how it would be so weird to have everyone around you communicating in Cybernese, and all mocking you for not knowing what to do with your gagoozer.  (This is but one shining example of why I will never be a science fiction writer).  Kinda like how Hugh Jackman didn’t know how to use the indoor toilet in Kate & Leopold.  Gawd, I’ve seen a lot of pretty bad chick flicks…  Okay, now if only I could figure out how to teleport some dinner without any house-elves around…

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Day 33: See Maya ROM Exhibit.

Posted on April 2, 2012 by LaLa

I’m an incensed incense burner!

I noticed the other day that the Maya exhibit at the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM) is closing April 9th.  That’s like, soon.  So I thought I would go check it out today to determine the likelihood of the world actually ending this December, to see if I should take out a few more credit cards or maybe even a loan, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about paying them off.  Then I started thinking about how big of a boat did I really need, versus how big would simply be excessive?  And could you pay for a personal chef with a line of credit?  And what should we have for our last supper on Dec 23rd, or thereabouts?  And who should we invite??  So many questions!  And, once again, I found myself in LaLa-land.  To be fair, it’s a short trip.

Now, I know the city is still divided about the crystal addition to the ROM building, but personally, I’m a fan of juxtaposing the old with the new.  This particular appendage kind of reminds me of the Fortress of Solitude in the original Superman movies, although I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the architect’s inspiration…  Hmmm, maybe it’s just me?

    

Where’s the elevator?

Anywho, the entrance to the Maya: Secrets of Their Ancient World exhibit is adorned with a large video projection of some of the grandest Mayan sites, accompanied by a musical sampler to help transport you all the way to Central America, back in the day.  From there, you weave through several rooms that include things like an insight into the ancient city of Palenque, the Mayan belief in the cosmos, the written language depicted in glyphs (apparently the hiero- is now silent), numerous antiquities and video presentations, the Mayan belief in the after-life, and the abandonment of the Mayan jungle cities around the 9th century.  Oh, and did I mention the notorious calendar, complete with a countdown to December 23rd, 2012?  Yup, that’s in there, too.

Cacao beans are groovy!

One of the highlights for me included how the Maya believed in the occasional sacrifice and bloodletting to keep things running smoothly and their deities appeased, just like in Joe versus the Volcano.  This included carving a stingray spine to pierce, um, delicate members of the ruler, and to run a rope through the tongue of the ruler’s wife, with the goal of soaking some cloth in better quality blood that could then be set on fire, because apparently Mayan gods had a delicate nose and could tell the difference in the calibre of the resulting smoke.  Right.

However, the most startling part of the exhibit in my opinion was a video presentation where one of the curators addressed the question of what really happened to the Maya as a people.  His answer echoed many of the current conditions, including environmental and social issues, such as the population losing confidence in the ruling 1% elite, who controlled the majority of the wealth.  This brings to mind the old adage about those who fail to learn the lessons of the past being doomed to repeat them.  In the immortal word of Homer J. Simpson, ‘Doh!’

I’ve got nothing to hide but some hot tamales!

Of course, descendants of the Maya people can still be found in parts of Mexico, Belize, El Salvador, Guatamala and Honduras today, so they haven’t completely disappeared, they’re just a little more, well, scattered.  But they’re working hard to preserve some of their ancestral languages and customs, which is always nice to see.

All in all, it’s a decent exhibit.  Now for the spoiler alert:  if you have already bought your 2012 doomsday kit and can’t find the receipt, then I would suggest you stop reading here… To the rest of you, I would give that extra line of credit a pass, unless you have the means and intention to repay it, because there is no real evidence that the Mayan believed the world would end this year.   It’s just the end of a big calendric cycle.  I know, it’s a bit of a letdown… But you can always go for a nice cup of Mayan hot chocolate to cheer yourself up.  Bless them, they did give us that!

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Day 32: Ride a Segway.

Posted on April 1, 2012 by LaLa

Happy April Fool’s Day!  I hope your day was as much fun as mine, riding around on a segway, not to be confused with a segue, its homophone, which this is.  (Sorry, couldn’t resist that little spin…)  The only time in recent memory that I recall seeing a segway up close was in the Barcelona airport, where a couple of local police officers were riding them, and I needed to borrow one of their cell phones.  I must admit, they struck me as a bit odd, like the first time I saw a police officer on a bicycle.  I mean, if push comes to shove, I’m thinking the suspect is going to get away.  They just don’t strike me as all that particularly powerful or intimidating.  Maybe it’s the helmets, hard to say.

My perception today, however, was completely shattered, when I used a couple of my precious vouchers to take a segway for a spin in the Distillery District with LeLa.  These babies rock!  I totally want one for myself now.  Can you imagine going through the grocery store, or Costco with one of these?  Heaven!  Mind you, there’s probably a few places that they’d give you the hairy eyeball if you used them, like on the golf course or at the gym.  But those small-minded people just don’t get what the segway represents.  From walking the dog to playing a riveting round of segway polo, it’s a lifestyle choice.

Our tour started with the uber-important task of choosing a helmet – after all, safety first.  Always one for fashion over function, LeLa opted for the one with the bad ass sticker.  It seemed appropriate.  Then came the basic orientation to ensure that we didn’t topple over at the first shiny object in our path.  In addition to simply standing on it and dismounting, this consisted of being able to go forwards, backwards, and around a few puny pylons.  Having a background in skiing or skateboarding where you have learned to be comfortable on an unstable platform definitely gives you an advantage, so I took to it like a duck to water and was raring to go after a couple of minutes.  LeLa, on the other hand, took a little longer, but then we were on our way.

Luckily for us, the weather had turned today, and was reminiscent of an average day in Ireland – namely, blustering with intermittent showers and a bitterly cold breeze.  That meant that we ended up with a private tour, which was just as well, because our guide had his hands full with me trying to ascertain the top speed of these things, and LeLa essentially re-routing us by refusing to go up hills – initially, at least.  Ah, good times!

But our guide Jason was the epitome of patience and grace, and he kept rounding us up and plying us with interesting tidbits of info about the Distillery’s history, no doubt in an effort to distract us into some form of civil obedience.  The Distillery District has a bit of a sordid past, which some purports has made the premises haunted, including the fact that one of its founders, Mr. Worts, committed suicide after his wife died in premature labour by drowning himself in one of the wells on the property.  His brother-in-law and business partner, Mr. Gooderham, then kindly adopted Mr. Worts’ six newly orphaned kids and raised them along with his own brood.  Those were the days… I mean, who does that, even then?!!?  Someone with plenty of easy access to alcohol, apparently.  But I digress.

In any case, the tour was both super fun and entertaining, and I was delighted to learn that they also offer off-road segway adventures in the summer, just north of the city in Horseshoe Valley.  Apparently, I was alone in my enthusiasm, as LeLa could barely walk by the end of the tour, having clenched her calves practically for dear life to ensure her feet didn’t move to keep her from toppling over.  In any case, we finished the trip with a visit to Soma, where I warmed up with a mug full of their Mayan hot chocolate elixir.  Mmmm… Yummy delish!  How do they get all the happiness inside?

PS. Because I have no shame and will do anything for a giggle, enjoy these two random segway pics I found on the glorious information superhighway!

Victory shall be mine!

Who you calling Fluffy?

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Day 31: City Farming Workshop.

Posted on March 31, 2012 by LaLa

Old McDonald had a farm… but then he sold it to real estate developers and moved into a shoebox in the city, and was surprised when he couldn’t get his tractor to help him sow fields of organic produce on his balcony.  So he called me, the voucher queen, and I took him to an Organic City Farming and Gardening Workshop at Fresh City Farms, where they got us both sorted by teaching us the basics of how to grow stuff in the city, including container gardening.  But when he found out that Fresh City Farms also offers anybody the option of receiving their very own box of locally grown (wherever possible) organic produce on either a weekly or bi-weekly basis, delivered to a convenient spot in your neighbourhood, well, he signed up, because after all, he is Old, and that is just way too convenient, and now he never has to miss another episode of Coronation Street ever again.

I love meeting people who are passionate about what they do, and Philip, Jessica and Luis definitely fall into that category.  The session started with a little tea, fresh, organic apples and homemade oatmeal cookies while Philip gave us a brief history of the young initiative, nestled in a Fresh City Farms greenhouse in one corner of Downsview Park.  Jess then took over the reins, and effervesced about the importance of getting your soil full of life and the wonders of worms.  She also reassured us that, even though many of us may have had blackish thumbs in the past (or in my case, the ever present), ‘gardening makes the gardener’, and we were already taking a big step in the right direction to find our inner nurturer of all things green just by showing up today.

We broke up the morning’s workshop held on crates in a magnificently warm greenhouse with mini field trips right outside to learn how to identify different types of soil, and investigate the bio-diversity hiding in one square foot.  Our team of four found the most – about 20 or so earthworms – which may sound like a lot, but the optimal number is actually closer to 30!  Who knew?!!  It’s still early in the season though (it’s March for chrissake!!), so this will undoubtedly improve over the coming weeks.

Jess then also explained how to build a composter, and, even better for those of us without the luxury of a sprawling yard, a vermicomposter (think of it as adopting worms as pets; if you do it right, they will eat the food scraps you feed them, and it won’t smell at all, and you’ll be left with lovely soil for planting all kinds of delicious treats in containers on your balcony).  We also discussed the importance of ground cover, and even something called lasagne mulching (true story!).  Great… now I’m hungry.

Luis, an intern, who spent a lot of time in El Salvador consulting with different organic farmers on how to improve their bounties, then brought us through such delicate topics as watering, inter-cropping, transplanting, and mixing soil.  He also waxed philosophical about perennials (where you plant stuff once, and it comes back year after year – now that’s my kind of gardening!), and rotating where you grow things.  We also learned how combining certain plants together in the same container can deter pests, while subtly enhancing the flavour of the vegetables themselves.  A popular pot combo is basil, tomatoes and marigold, for instance.  Hmm… That might just be doable.  Basically, I no longer have an excuse for murdering countless innocent plants and herbs.

We got to see the process for starting seedlings indoors, and then helped to transfer a few of them to slightly larger containers.  For our efforts, we were rewarded with a couple of little tomato seedlings to take home (poor unsuspecting buggers… I named mine Bert and Ernie).  The nice folks also gave us a little baggie full of seeds to take away to get us started.  Bless.

So, while the container experiments on my patio in the past have, to put it bluntly, failed miserably, these kind folks have shown me the way and inspired me with the courage to give it another go.  After all, it just doesn’t get more local than your own backyard or patio.  Just ask Old McDonald…

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Day 30: Try Yin Yoga.

Posted on March 30, 2012 by LaLa

Okay, I’ll be honest, today’s new thing was a bit of an accident.  I had planned to go to a hot yoga class at noon, but when I woke up early, I thought I may as well go to the 9:30 class.  Seemed like a reasonable idea to get it out of the way…  So, I legged it to the studio, and settled onto my mat.  I was proud that I seemed to be tolerating the heat well, something that I’ve been working on over the last couple of weeks, especially after the perma-chill of Ireland.  Then, it all became perfectly clear – I had read the schedule incorrectly (stupid details), and it was a 90 minute Yin Yoga class, which is held in reduced heat, instead of a hot yoga class.  Aw, crap.

Now, in all the years that I have been practicing yoga on and off, I have never attended a Yin Yoga class before.  I wasn’t really even sure what it was.  So, rather than walking home and basically having to turn around to come right back, I decided to stay and give it a go.  After all, it was a good studio, and the class was being led by one of my favourite instructors.  How bad could it be?

You just know when you utter those words that Mr. Murphy and his Law are going to bitch slap you…  In this particular case, I’m pretty sure karma also had a hand in it.

I mean, when you are expecting a class that is going to make faucets out of parts of your body you didn’t even know could sweat, to end up doing a series of slow, deep release poses that barely make your brow glisten is a bit of a let-down.  I know it sounds crazy, but I think you can actually get addicted to the extreme puddles of insanity that is hot yoga.  But more on that later.

Back in the Yin Yoga class, I was first of all struck by the fact that it was nearly full at 9:30 am on a Friday.  After so many years in the cheese and caffeine-fueled rat race, I had forgotten that a lot of people work shifts.  I was secondly surprised that everyone had blankets and cushions with them.  Props?  WTF?  I mean, we use the odd yoga brick or band in hot yoga, but both are strictly optional.  I felt suddenly ill-equipped to get through the next 90 minutes of my life.

Then, we proceeded to hold each pose for at least 5 minutes.  For someone with Shiny Object Syndrome, that is a freaking lifetime!  You’re supposed to release all kinds of thoughts that may come into your head, keeping a blank slate to sort of meditate and soften everything up… Honestly, it’d be easier for me to climb Everest than to clear the chaotic clutter of random thoughts that enters my mind.  For something seemingly so simple, where you are encouraged to get comfortable with each pose since you will be holding it for so long, it proved to be much more challenging than I expected.

After the class, I read the official description of Yin Yoga on the studio’s website, as I do with most forms of instruction, and it mentions that it’s supposed to open the body, peeling away layers of stress using a gentle approach to really get into the connective tissue, but most importantly, ‘It is a great compliment to your regular practice’.  Yep, not really a practice unto itself, but more of a way to squeeze in some additional stretching for extra credit.  Like I needed that.  But, I have to say, I did feel more supple and open after the class, so there is undoubtedly something to it.  And I did stick around for the hot yoga class afterwards, in case you were wondering, because I am a sucker for punishment.  All I can hope is that I’ll be able to haul my extra elongated carcass out of bed tomorrow, because parts of my body are aching already.  That can’t be good…

On a side note, have you ever wondered how the Downward Dog posture got its name?  And why a dog’s form always seems superior to that of a cat’s?  And why we, as humans, are trying to emulate animals in the first place??  There’s probably a good reason we don’t see a lot of pigeons smoking or drinking lattes…  Oops, sorry, inside voice leaking out again… I must be delirious.  Namaste.

  

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