You are currently browsing the monthly archive for June, 2007.
I haven’t been camping, but I’m happy anyway. I’ve just had a busy weekend going to the theatre, and marching with the little fugger in the Gay Pride Parade.
My pal Todd invited me to march with his crew last week. I got dressed in my garish tie-dyed shirt, put a rainbow coloured bandana on Grendel and off I went. After wandering around the floats for an hour or more, I found the Goodhandy’s gang and joined in the march. The trannies loved Grendel in his rainbow coloured threads, and he made up for his dimunitive size by attracting far too much attention. Even the police contingent were gaga over him. (Imagine a uniformed police office exclaiming “awwwww” when a rainbow draped condo-dog scampers by. )
It seems the paparazzi were less than busy with Paris Hilton out of the limelight for these past few weeks. Instead, they descended on Grendel. When I purchased his colours, and dressed him up, the photographers started almost immediately. I decided to try to count all of the photographers who asked to take a picture of my out and proud chihuahua. Not including the hordes lining the parade route, I counted over 35 photographers coming after Grendel. I was puzzled, and I think Grendel was too. Cute dogs in rainbow threads rule… apparently.
After the parade, I hooked up with Sassinak, and our pal A. With my tongue firmly planted in cheek, I remarked that “everyone loves Grendel, but they’re indifferent to me.” Both women were kind enough to give me a nice hug to set things right. PJ arrived on the scene a few minutes later, and Grendel’s spirits picked up even though he was tired from rambling around in the big crowds all afternoon.
It was a grand weekend, and I’m still in a good mood from all the festivities and partying. The celebrations seem to bring out the best in Toronto. Despite the huge crowds, and the usually stifling heat, everyone is in a good mood, and no matter how weird or outside you may be, there’s a place for you.
The other day I said “before there was pride, there was fear.” Times have changed, and the massive celebration every year reminds us that we ought to be proud of ourselves instead of hiding in the shadows like we used to. The massive outpouring of good will can’t be beat. It’s a pleasure to be in such a large group of queer and queer-friendly people.
The good people of Toronto could teach the rest of the world a thing or two.
I was out walking the little fugger this evening and glancing at my watch. I usually don’t care how much time a walk takes, but tonight was a bit different. I had a date with a dark spot and an overhead view. And because the thing I wanted to see travels at thousands of kilometers per hour, timing was critical.
I grabbed PJ, scurried up to the roof of my building and waited. At 10:32 PM EDT, the International Space Station appeared in the NNW followed a second later by the Space Shuttle. They were right on schedule. I could follow the two bright objects rising out of the clouds in the west, racing towards the planet Jupiter, eventually disappearing into the earth’s shadow.
It is quite easy to spot the ISS, if you know when and where to look. A fellow named Chris Peat runs a really nifty website that will give you satellite overpass predictions for wherever you are in the world at www.heavens-above.com. The really neat thing about tonight’s pass was seeing the shuttle tagging along for the ride in such close proximity. That’s a rarity. The two separated at 10:42 this morning, and after the shuttle circled the station for some photographs, an engine burn was initiated at 12:28PM to start the shuttle’s journey home. They were still attached yesterday, and would have made for a lovely overpass, had I not been guzzling Korean BBQ with PJ and Sassinak.
The ISS is quite bright when it’s flying by, and the added bulk of the shuttle would have made it even brighter. It has been interesting to watch it get brighter with each passing year, as the astronauts and cosmonauts continue their orbital tinkering. It’s a great thing to know that all of the international cooperation is paying off. The pictures and reports that come back from orbit are nice, but there’s something special about looking up from the roof of my home and seeing it, flying by at 25,200 km/h. That’s way faster than Grendel and I walking up to Bloor St and back.
***
Just after I hit the publish button for the first time, I checked the position of the ISS, and found that it was over the Phillipines heading out over the Pacific Ocean towards Alaska. There are no speed traps in space.
I’ve been quiet these past few weeks, but the sad news has compelled me to speak up.
The other day, the sons of Sam Sniderman announced they are closing the world’s greatest record store. “Sam The Record Man” has been a fixture on Yonge St. for decades now, and the gigantic neon sign has been a beacon of culture for many, and especially me.
Over the years, I have spent thousands of dollars at Sam’s store, and for good reason. I remember when I was a wee yardape. My dad was dragging me by the arm through the store while my older brother was getting a few records. Sam himself spotted me, and handed me a 45 of “Cab Driver” by the Mills Brothers. It’s wasn’t much of a song, but it was my very own record. I must have been only 5 or 6 years old, and Sam had the good sense to spot a future record collector. It may have been one of the smartest PR moves that Sam ever made. I’d like to think so.
Sam proudly announced at the front entrance to his store that “if you can’t find it here, you can’t find it anywhere.” Considering the sheer volume of records that Sam had under one roof on several floors, he probably wasn’t too far from the truth.
The passage of time and changing technology has forced Sam The Record Man to close, and I am sure that I’m not alone when I say he’ll be sorely missed. There are many record stores that have come and gone on Yonge St., but Sam was always there. Sam Sniderman started the store in the first place to win his sweetheart who had a thing for music. Little did he know that he would endear himself to thousands of others at the same time by bringing a tremendous selection of music and other media to Canadians from coast to coast.
Thanks Sam. I’ll miss you.
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