Torn from the Headlines Tuesday

So the Great Winter LoveFest of 2010 is now over, and thanks to the exceptional efforts of many - which made the last couple of weeks (and the week to come) an affair to remember - the love letters are still flowing in, fast and furious.

You like us.

You really, really like us.

Mostly.

From one of this morning's Vancouver papers:

"In case you don't read The Los Angeles Times, here's what esteemed sports columnist Bill Plaschke wrote on Sunday: 'Canada, you were gold. For two weeks, you lived your anthem, your hearts glowing like that moon that hung nightly over Burrard Inlet, a light on the front porch of a house that felt like a home.' "

Well, didn't that just get me a little misty-eyed?

Everyone, bar none, likes to be complimented on their choice of homey porch lighting.

And then I read a little further...

"In a related story, a British journalist complained that the stupid moon kept him up at night."

Oh, that stupid farking moon.

Add it to your litany of complaints. Another glaring oversight on our part.

So very, very sorry. Whatever could we have been thinking?

And yet again, I have gone from the thrill of successfully completing my hostess-y duties to the despair of actually having a moon in our Canadian solar system.

British newspaper dudes (especially you from The Times) - who the hell pissed in your pigs-in-a-blanket? For the most part, each and every day, you have behaved like petulant children. Stamping of feet, literary tantruming.

Dissing planets.

No one or no thing is beyond attack.

Now here, instinctually, I would love to tell you how relieved I am that you can all screw off and go back home. Back to the comfort of your climate (which is EXACTLY the f*cking same as ours), back to your overcrowded, polluted London and your pithy news posts.

And back to your g.d. moon.

Which apparently is of a smaller, more aesthetic wattage than ours.

I would love to tell you that I sincerely - in my glowing heart of glowing hearts - hope that there is some country who will take equal delight in crapping all over your 2012 Games.

But I won't.

Because, according to the rest of the free world, I'm a good hostess.

And I'm polite.

(Wanker.)

Hey, Joe - Me, Too!!

Oh, my.

Amid the giant inflatable Mounties (out of the gutter, you), the flying beavers (yah, I'm talking to you. Out!!), the wafting Mooses, the birch bark canoes and the oh-so-saucy lumberjacks and the serial fiance known here as Buble (spat out like 'Newman' in Seinfeld...)...

...I could not have been prouder to be a Canadian than during the closing ceremonies of the 2010 Winter Olympics. (well, except for the Nickelback and Avril Lavigne part - I proudly voted for the pickle on facebook...)

My surging patriotism, and the always wry 'William-call-me-Bill' Shatner, reminded me of this old chestnut that-in its heyday-ran on TV about a jillion times a day (a jillion and 30 times in Newfoundland).

While kind of hackneyed, still true.

And on a day when I'm kind of blue to take down the red and white, this prolongs the ending just a little bit longer.

(oh my gawd - are you STILL curbside? Don't even go there with the 'that's what she said' thing).

Long before there was Joe the Plumber, there was:

Joe the Canadian:

Hey,

I'm not a lumberjack, or a fur trader....
I don't live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled....
and I don't know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada,
although I'm certain they're really really nice.

I have a Prime Minister, not a president.
I speak English and French, not American.
And I pronounce it 'about', not 'a boot'.

I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack.
I believe in peace keeping, not policing,
diversity, not assimilation,
and that the beaver is a truly proud and noble animal.
A toque is a hat, a chesterfield is a couch,
and it is pronounced 'zed' not 'zee', 'zed' !!!!

Canada is the second largest landmass!
The first nation of hockey!
and the best part of North America

My name is Joe!!
And I am Canadian!!!

For the Love of Game(s) Friday

I feel that I must apologize.

(gee, Baroness - how many conversations/letters/blogs of yours start this way?)

I realize that, over the last couple of weeks, my enthusiasm for all things Canada may have been just a titch insufferable for a few of you.

So, in an effort to be ecumenical, I will start to wrap up the festivities with just an overview of the things the vonB's witnessed yesterday on our jaunt downtown.

You know, our jaunt to see the people at the place play the thing.

On ice.

That some people may or may not have won.

A medal.

That may or may not have the chemical symbol Au.

All that aside, thanks to the power of my Hockey Socky:

Moose!

I now have a fascination with head wear.

Such as this:I told she looked very aerodynamic.

(which was the truth)
I did not tell her that she looked like my garden gnome.
(which was also the truth)

And this:

Sundry rapid transit lady, rockin' the Quatchi...

(Although - no offense, lady - NO ONE rocks the Quatchi head better than this guy:

Whoa, dude. Gnarly
No really.
Gnarly.
Conditioner, maybe?

And this:I had to check my ticket to make sure

that I hadn't surreptitiously gotten into some sort of Bill and Ted phone booth,
and then check the back of my head to make sure
I didn't have a gaping wound of some sort that would cause hallucinations...
WTH?
You are a far way from Wisconsin, Dorothy.

But wait! Here's another who has infiltrated the perimeter:

I think they are planning a takeover, by slowly and deliciously
raising our cholesterol
rendering us gassy
and defenseless

There were law enforcement officers (v. friendly, btw), who were wearing ushankas:

I asked him if it was made of beaver.
His partner quickly suggested it was roadkill.
His partner was not wearing a ushanka.
Jealous much, buddy boy?
(I would never call a RCMP officer 'buddy boy')
(within Taser range)

There was the patriotic:And the Hockey-otic:

who reminded me of a (family friendly) version of a joke -
'What has 2 thumbs and is toque-cool?'

And its sad counter-part - 'What has 4 thumbs, and is not cool?'

"Us!"

Winter Olympics 2010 Wednesday

Oh, Vivi - what have you done now?

As you may recall (or not)(perfectly understandable, darlings - we all lead such hectic lives, non?) it was not too long ago that I had an illumination conversation with Canadian Olympic Biathlete, Vivi Kocher.

During the interview (at about the 4 minute 9 second mark on the 2nd video, I go all Nancy Grace on her ass, and bring up some pretty serious past allegations.

Which she denied (I think) vehemently.

Yet look what's happened to poor Miss Belarus up there.

Oh, Vivi.

Oh, Canada.

[editor's note: nah, just funnin' with ya; Belarus girl's just plain tuckered out. That's all. Nothing to see here. Because Iwouldn't want you thinking I'm all macabre or anything...this is a photo from an amazing series posted on the Boston Globe's website]

My City Monday

Gah.

I've been up in my little turret, studying all day. Big test on Wednesday.

(by the dubs - advancing one's intellect and striving for certification? Highly overrated).

(especially when the G.D. Olympics are on.)

(and in my city, no less...)

(wah)

It's still Monday, right?

Well, unless you fall somewheres off the east end of the Canadian Map.

Then too bad for you.

So, I know that the subtitle of my blog is "The Good.The Bad. The Irksome."

But just for today, I am going to change it to "The Happy. The Sad. The Awesome."

Come along, now. We don't have all day.

The Happy:

I was thrilled to come upon this during a regularly-scheduled gallavant - nice to know that we have someone local who has Banksy aspirations...(does it count if it's on your own fence?)

Here's a close-up - the striped pants are pretty fee-usss!

The Sad:

*note to dude on left:
Put down the sign when we're losing...

Oh, Canada.

What.

The.

Frickin'

Hell?

Yeah, buddy. We're living something...(I think it's call Get-Back-In-Yer-Net-You-Idiot-Itis)

The Sad (But Proud):

Making nice. Shaking hands. Because he's such a lovely young man. And we are nothing.

But polite.

The Awesome:

I think I may have died and gone to heaven. Even though I was home slaving away over sarcomeres and xiphoid processes, my friends saw it in their hearts to still go downtown and play amongst the international jet set - they knew I would have wanted it that way.

My absence was noted, and my hard work hitting the books was rewarded when the Good Countess Jaeger came home with the most AMAZING present ever.

It is called a "Hockey Sockey", which is an offshoot of "The Pook" (go here for the fantabulistic website).

In its relaxed state, it looks like this:
But it can be so much more.

It can be a brooch. It can be a pterydactyl.

It can be a mullet.

Or it can be this:
I am currently rocking the 'Double Trump Comb Over'.

I'm still trying to perfect 'The Moose' where you knot the top ties and put your Olympic mittens on top. Picture to follow!

Happy almost Tuesday, my lovelies!

For the Love of the Game(s) Friday

Here is my inherent problem - I listen.

A lot.

Maybe too much.

Whilst this makes for fascinating and meaningful personal conversation, it is certainly detrimental to my foray into the sound-byte-centric world of television journalism.

Hmmm. Their loss.

Because when I'm having some good, silly fun - I just can't stop myself. I must have more, more - and then some more. Convo crack, it is.

When I had the pleasure of meeting (alleged) Canadian Curler Christina LaRoche, I wished we could gab forever. She is all kinds of entertaining, and although I was slightly disappointed that her curling pants were not as flash as Norway's, she more than made up for it with her impromptu "Gretching" and overall move-busting...

Thoughtful Thursday

I mentioned yesterday how She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has taken over at least one of our local Olympic venues.

I say 'at least' because she is subversive. We all know this. All is quiet on the Western Front and then BAM! She's singlehandedly financing healthcare and adopting entire countries. She's simultaneously redecorating women's shelters while grafting 25 new hybrid roses in her California compound. Who knows how far-reaching her tentacles spread? (Immediately the giant squid from '10,000 Leagues Under the Sea' springs to mind. Except for the part about killing sea men. Or maybe not.)

Anyhoo...

While one celeb may be subversive, there is another out and about here who is anything but. A certain Monsieur Stephen Colbert is at it - loud and proud.

From his claim on the cover of Sports Illustrated...

'Saving' the Olympics?
(harumph)
(one snow truck at a time?)

...to inciting his Northern faction of the ColbertNation to festoon our city with his posters ...

... I think that in his heart of hearts, he really likes us. He really, really likes us.

Broadcasting his 'Colbert Report' from a venue yesterday in Vancouver, he lovingly pandered to the crowd and summed up our charm with one of his always-keen observations:

"It doesn't matter whether you are Canadian, Indian or Asian. What unites us is you are not American."

(Almost) Wordless/WTF/Winter Olympics Wednesday

Welcome to today's amalgam of all that is good, bad and irksome on this fine Wednesday morning.

I've been mulling over which intriguing facet of our 2010 Olympics I would next reveal to you ...

Interview?

Nah.

(need my people to align with others' people)

(who now, apparently, have their own press people)

(who are busy talking to his people)

(which makes me contradict my Monday assertion - people who need people are not the luckiest people in the world. They are just kind of pissy and disgruntled)

Fashion faux pas?

Nae.

(I mean, where do you go from here?)

Instead, I will touch oh-so-briefly upon some irksomeness that I documented during a stroll through our local gathering place this past weekend.

To preface this, I must clarify something.

We Canadians, on average, are not a boastful lot. Sure, we are proud. But we temper this with about 3500 kilograms of humility. Some of us toss in a little guilt for good measure.

But this whole Winter Olympics thing? Well, if you knew us well, you would know that we are practically apoplectic with excitement (and those of you who don't know us well? You just assume we are ready for a nap).

So, we really feel a sense of ownership with this. This is our year, our city, our venues. Which, by the way, are obscenely expensive to get into - unless you know people.

The alternative to seeing events live is to go to the afore-mentioned public venues, where mammoth flatscreen tv's abound. It's just almost like being there. Just almost.

Have I painted a sufficient picture?

Okay, then.

Imagine mingling with the rest of the great unwashed in an area designated as this:

Are you f*(#$ing kidding me?

TV empires, radio stations, small countries aren't enough to satiate her lust for dominance? Can this woman not keep her grubby little paws off anything?

Next thing you know, there will be a Leadership Academy cropping up on our East Side, to enpower/indoctrinate the wayward, the disenfranchised, the transient. To teach them the mantra - you, too, can have a dream. You, too, can be entitled. To anything. Anywhere.

You, too, can have the power within to hijack an event.

Maybe a "My Favorite Things" episode??

OK - everything but that.

Let's not go crazy here.

My City Mondays

Something I'm sure everyone can relate to - regardless of homeland - is the pride one feels when one hears their national anthem.

To be able to belt it out loud and proud with a building full of compatriots is a powerful thing. It can even be a transformative thing, turning the cynical into the heart-proud.

So, when one starts tweaking with what is pure and good and wholesome and don't need no fixing , well...

Just well.

When, at the very opening of Friday's Olympic Opening ceremonies, Canadian jazz singer Nikki Yanofsky started out on her (seemingly) 2 hour adventure in and around the-tune-of-what -could-have-possibly-been-our-national-anthem-but-I'm-not-really-sure, well...

Just well.

I am sure that the decision to slow it up and dance it all over the place was not her decision alone - she had people. And people who have people?

They're the luckiest people. In the world.

Because to begin to atone for this sorry attempt at rousing our nationalism, 16 year old Nikki is also the voice behind my newest earworm.

It is downright miraculous how a woman with an absence of hormones (me, not Nikki) can indeed get so hormonal and squidgey listening to this, but there ya go. I believe.

The song and accompanying video has all sorts of elements - cheddar cheesey elements, in fact - that somehow manage to dig right in there and tug at an old Baroness' heart strings.

Things that get me every damn time, such as:
. someone skating on a frozen lake
. men in tights
. a still sassy 82 year old Barbara Ann Scott, both as a young Canadian figure skating darling and as a modern day arsonist, terrorizing Parliament Hill with her fire stick
. the running of the torch (reminiscent of the man who carries my flame)
. Wayne Gretzky
. Nancy Greene (one of the first skiers I remember watching on tv)
. Inukshuk
. the kickassery of our women's hockey team
. a successful torch lighting (go figure!)
. kids singing
. candlelight
. flying through the air with the greatest of ease

I hear (when I can) that the cure for the common earworm is to diminish its power by sharing it with as many people as possible. Be part of the cure, people:



And as corny as it sounds, I do believe in the power of you and I.

Merry Monday, everyone.

Thoughtful Thursday

With one day left before the opening of the 2010 Winter Olympics in MyCity, I am feeling all kinds of corny and glorious and misty, every time I see a videoclip or hear my national anthem. It is a strange feeling, all this overwhelming pride.

Yet there is something that stirs me - so oddly, so deeply - that I can't help but feel passionate, and to hope, for the sake of you all, that I can toe the line between heartfelt and downright obnoxious.

Because all of these misperceptions about our country? We're more than that.

All of the political rhetoric? We're more than that, too.

Is it wrong to share with you the words of a spoken word artist?

Well, then - I don't wanna be right.

Because spoken or written - this guy is a genius.

And, thanks to the brilliance of Canadian slam poet Shane Koyczan (go here for his website, House of Parlance),I present to you today's Thoughtful Thursday:

We Are More
Define Canada.
You might say the home of The Rocket or The Great One
who inspired little 9's and little number 99's
But we're more than hockey and fishing lines
off the rocky coast of the Maritimes
and some say what defines us is something as simple as
'Please' and 'Thank You'
and as for "You're Welcome" - well, we say that too
But we are more than genteel and civilized
we are an idea in the process of being realized
we are young
we are a culture strung together, then woven
into a tapestry
and the design is what makes us
more than the sum totals
of our history
we are an experiment going right for a change
with influences that range from 'A' to 'Zed'
and yes, we say 'zed' instead of 'zee'
we are the colors of Chinatown, the coffee of Little Italy
we dream so big
that there are some that would call our ambition
an industry
because we are vineyards
of good year after good year
we reforest what we clear
because we believe
in generations beyond our own
knowing now that so many of us have grown past what we used to be
we can stand here today
filled with all the hope people have
when they say things like,
'Someday...'
because we are more than a laundry list of
things to do and places to see
more than hills to ski and countryside ponds to skate
we are the abandoned hesitation
of all those who can't wait
we are first-rate greasy spoon diners and healthy-living cafes
a country
that is all the ways you choose to live
a nation
that can give you variety
because we are choices
we are millions upon millions of voices shouting
'Keep exploring'
we are more
we are the surprise the world has in store for you
it's true
Canada is the 'What' in 'What's New'
so don't let your luggage define your travels, each life
unravels differently
and experiences are
what make up the colors of our tapestry
we are
The True North Strong and Free
and what's more
is that we didn't just say it -
we made it be
****

To hear the master live(ish), go to the YouTube page here.

Winter Olympics 2010 - Flame On!

You all might believe that this past Sunday's activities between the Who Dats and the Baby Horses was pretty exciting, but here at vonBloggenschtern Central - where I am, by the by, the Unofficial Ambassadrix of the 2010 Winter Olympics - The Superbowl was but a mere trifle.

For yesterday, in our neck of the woods, on a balmy, 53 degree F afternoon, there was a completely different brand of receiving, running, and passing.

Yesterday was the day when my Baron vonB ran his leg of the Olympic Torch Relay.

It was a surreal experience: anticipatory, overwhelming, exhilarating, patriotic, proud, loving - all SlapChopped into one big ball of awesome.

From the minute he got dropped off at his checkpoint - flame still unlit, waiting for the previous runner - The Baron was a rock star. He was swarmed by everyone and their baby, and one of my darling nieces had a real hard time pushing her way into the throng to get a picture taken. The Baron said he now has a modicum of sympathy for anyone with the last name 'Jonas'.

After a brief wait, and a police dispersement of the crowd (no firehoses nor tear gas required - we Canadians disperse quite nicely, thankyouverymuch), the hubster's torch was lit:

(that's him on the right, in the highly flammable, IOC-issued, figure-flattering white track suit)

He was off and running...

Accompanied by his posse of flame bodyguards - because even though we're such a polite bunch, we still have opinions.

(and if you have the balls to express them during ANY of the torch relays, see that smiling lady on the left? She'll kick your ass from here to Sunday)(and then bring out the firehose and teargas)(maybe the dogs, too)

And although he told me that he would maybe make a break for it and keep the flame for himself, he thought better of it at the last minute (perhaps because of that smiling lady), and graciously passed it along on its way:

Then someone official-like came along, extinguished the Baron's torch, and 'Pfffffft" - that was it.

Well, almost.

Because, being a vonBloggenschtern means that one can only take so much pomp and so much circumstance before one can't take it at all anymore, and has to live up to a dare:

My City Monday

Well, it is that day of the week (tell me why...) where I give you another little glimpse into the wonderment that is completely altering my city.

It's time to meet another yet another fine young athlete that will hopefully do us proud (no pressure, hon).

Join me as I once again infiltrate the Olympic Athlete's Village and meet up with JodiAnna Tomie - Canadian Skeleton racer - to discuss life, levity and lycra.

For the Love of the Game(s) Friday

Oh, my. Can The Baroness just say how thrilled she is?

Wait, let me back up a minute.

You may recall that here I (foolishly) volunteered myself to be your official blogosphere ambassador to the 2010 Winter Olympics.

Well, the powers that be somehow made it happen, and ta dah!!! I got my first interview!

Two things you should know ahead of time:

1. The powers that be were too cheap to get me a videographer, so I had no choice but to do all of this myself.

2. I do not really know how to do all of this myself.

Without further ado, Let the Games begin!!



OK, sorry to interrupt.

Two more things you should know:

1. As part of the steep learning curve, I did not edit this. It is - not unlike the sometimes blahdee blah blah of my posts - a tad long. But I had such a good time, I didn't want it to end. No one's got a gun to your head to watch the whole thing...

(well, actually, she does)

2. What you've always heard is still indeed true. Canadians are polite. Exceedingly so.

Some of us (maybe those involved in perhaps a field of sportsplay that might employ skis and rifles) could from time to time, be a titch outspoken.

But it is just that.

Outspoken-ness: The sign of freedom.

And who among us doesn't love freedom?

If we had amendments up here, I'm sure this would be one.



You heard the lady.

Be nice.

Like we are.

Me and Vivi.

My City Monday

Make a Smilebox collage

Well, it certainly is Monday.

And here in our wee corner of earth, somewhere betwixt the Starbucks mothership and Sarah Palin territory, the excitement is getting pret-ty darned crazy.

You know that phrase, 'Busier than a one-armed paper hanger'?

Well, imagine about 100,000 one-armed paper hangers, planting and cementing and hammering and paving and volunteering and basically whipping themselves into a collective frenzy to get everything all shiny and ready for this upcoming sporting event that will soon overtake us all. You'd think it was a big deal or something.

Big or no, we are the party hosts doing that last-minute, crazed tidying: dusting the surfaces with our shirtsleeves, chucking undesirable viewing material into cupboards, stacking the unneeded into the garage, filling the icebuckets and hoping like hell that no one shows up early.

(whatever you do, please don't look in that closet in the Valley - that's where we moved the homeless)(just for now...)

Anyways...

Things are afoot. (askate?)(aboot?)

And, as one of the many Unofficial Blogosphere Ambassadors to the 2010 Winter Olympics, I will attempt to keep you in the loop.

The loopy loop, as it were.

For as is the privilege of one so connected as myself, I have been told* that I may have press access to some of our fine Canadian Olympic athletes.

Look for upcoming interviews with Vivi Kocher, Biathalon. Jodianna Tomie, Skeleton. Christina LaRoche, Women's Curling. Sam Sean White, Snowboarding.

Maybe even Sidney Crosby.

I think he has something to do with Men's Figure Skating. (Loved, loved, LOVED his father's music).

Don't worry - I'll get this all figured out. And when I do - I promise you that I will bring you the goods.

Because I can.

Because they're here.

In my city.


* 'I have been told': A very useful phrase which I first learned from this wise sage - it covers a multitude of misperceptions and potentially humbling observations.

Your Official Winter Olympics Ambassador

photo source here

That would be ME!!

(not me the ice sculpture - me, the ambassador.)

(although I do feel like the ice sculpture sometimes...cold-hearted, block-headed, kinda bloaty and cankle-y...)

(I have yet to feel quite old enough to be rockin' the adult snow diaper)

FYI, the carving above is referred to as an Inukshuk, which is - I believe - Aleutian for bloated and cankled one, or Great Whale Blubber God.

See? I'm a wealth of information. Stick with me, peeps. We're going places.

I'm self-elected, but hey. The sash looks pretty spiffy over my parka, and if I'm not mistaken, I think that ambassadors wear tiaras of some sort.

(and if they don't, they should)

Within the next month or so, I will begin my own BvonB Network coverage of the 2010 Winter Olympics.

Rest assured, there will be very little sports talked about. I really do not like sports all that much.

Nope, I plan on walking in and amongst the great unwashed, and sleuthing out the weird and wonderful, the oddities and lunacies.

In true Baroness fashion, I will couple my keen powers of observation with mad photography skills, and give you coverage unlike any other. There will be pictures of people taking pictures; I'm hoping that there are many more Clive Barker wanna-bes out there, clicking, and turning, bending and contorting. And wearing black socks and sneakers.

I consider it my ambassadorial duty to bring all of this to you. Because, you know, tickets to even the most hideous winter events (I think this might be the cross-country ski/badger shoot), are insanely expensive.

Yet, you'll see things here for absolutely free. I might throw in a set of Ginzu knives, if I'm feeling generous. Maybe even a SlapChop or two (but I can't wait all day).

Say it.

You are lucky to have me.

As a teaser, I will entice you with a local commercial. It combines 2 sports that illustrates the awesomeness that is Canada.

Enjoy!