Oscar, oscar, oscar

It's strange how dull the Academy Awards were.

There weren't any major surprises, just disappointments and embarrasments.

Melissa Leo, winning the Best Supporting Actress, did surprise everyone by saying the F word (as in "When I watched Kate two years ago it looked so fucking easy") but beyond that the show was a yawn.

Embarrassments:

1) the head of the Academy coming on-stage with the head of ABC/Disney to inform a billion people that the contract has been renewed and ABC will continue to broadcast the ceremony. Why would they waste precious airtime for this non-news that no one at home cares about?

2) Halle Berry being allowed to praise the late Lena Horne as if her career and death was more important and noteworthy than anyone else's last year. Which is not to say that Horne's role in Hollywood history is unimportant, but to focus on her passing and not give other actors the same tribute was questionable to say the least.

3) Jeff Bridges and Sandra Bullock having to give their mini and pseudo-sincere introductions to this year's nominated actresses and actors was painful to watch. Last year the Academy had people who had worked with the nominees give the introductions; this year, perhaps to save time, they just had last year's winners do the speeches. It felt forced and very phony.

4) the final montage of the best picture nominees being shown as the King's speech from the film of the same title was disrespectful to all of the nominees. While the montage was well edited, the decision to use the King's narration allowed one film to overshadowing all of the other nominees.

I said everything I wanted to say about "The King's Speech" back on February 10th
http://wordsflowlikechocolate.blogspot.com/2011/02/speechless.html

But even setting aside my disappointment that "The Social Network" didn't win best picture and David Fincher didn't win director, this year's program was the dullest event in years. It lacked energy and enthusiasm. The show, as star studded as it was, lacked any sort of spark.

But even setting aside my disappointment that "The Social Network" didn't win best picture and David Fincher didn't win director, this year's program was the dullest event in years. It lacked energy and enthusiasm. The show, as star studded as it was, lacked spark.

Dragons greetings: Playoffs begin!

(Here's the weekly team greeting. I am tempted to embed the videos but I'll leave the links as is. But oh my are they foul-mouthed fun.)

My Fellow Dragons:

Playoffs my friends. The playoffs. And it's not "thuh" playoffs -- it is "Thee" Friggin' Playoffs!!

Statistically the Toronto Maple Leafs might make it, but we are already there!

"I think you're the greatest, but my dad says you don't work hard enough on defense. And he says that lots of times, you don't even run down court. And that you don't really try... except during the playoffs."

This is when we separate the men from the boys, the wheat from the chaff, and the carpets from the drapes.

"If you want to have victory, you have to grab it by its haunches and you gotta hump it into submission!"

This is the "Do or Die" of the playoffs. There is no room for doubt, uncertainty or hair tinting products because it is time to show our true colours. Time to get down, get dirty and get funky!

Ahhhh DAMNIT! Blew it. Had it right there, in my sights, within my grasp and I friggin' blew it. We should not get "funky". We should get down, dirty and DANGEROUS. See? -- That would have worked. DamnitAllToHell. It was right friggin' there! "Funky"?!? Like what the hell!?! Wrong damn word.

(Oh!! I gotta tell you this...

On the plane ride back from Mexico I watched three episodes of "The Thick of It". I don't know if you're familiar with the show but it's British and political and just really, really good. Oh and it is ear bleedingly vulgar with its language.

And, yeah-okay, as we all know I have a fairly loud and incredibly unselfconscious laugh. Now, multiply that howling King of the Banshees laugh by a factor of "Oh my god he's wearing really good noise reduction headphones!" Okay, got it...?

Now, picture the looks of horror and shock I glimpsed as I was DYING with laughter as I watched the show and other passengers are watching "The Social Network" and "The Kids Are Alright" so they can vote in their Academy Awards office pool and claim they saw the film but didn't think it was all that great and oh yeah You Saw It On A Friggin' Airplane So It Really Doesn't Count As A True Film Experience Does It Now and while they're doing that I'm watching the most funniest most rudest most vulgarest tv show in history, a show that makes "Deadwood" and Quentin Tarantino look like "Gone with the Wind" and Jane Austen in comparison.

So I'm watching "The Thick of It" but I'm noticing my fellow passengers staring at me and so I decide to be somewhat courteous and resolve that I should try to perhaps maybe kinda hold in my laughter a tiny bit.

And so I try, honest to god, I try not to laugh aloud, but as I do so I find myself shaking so hard with the laughter that I'm trying to self-contain that it's almost like I'm having a seizure. I am laughing so hard and trying so hard to keep it On The Inside that it must look like I'm having convulsions. And at this point I'm expecting the stewardess to come running down the aisle and give me a stick to put between my teeth so I don't bite my tongue off as she cuts into my leg and sucks out the snake venom that is obviously causing these convulsions -- that is how hard I'm laughing.

And I would love, simply luv, to share some of the bits from the show with you, but I realize some of you might be reading this at work, so for a taste go here for Tucker's Law...

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=malcolm%20tucker

And, yes, if you dare you can go here too...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULrsPgAToBU&feature=related

But let me once again warn you that it is foul. And not like 'Daffy Duck fowl' but foul like 'George Carlin is sitting up in his grave and applauding cuz it's so foul' foul. There is a tremendous use of the "c-word" and I do not mean Christmas or Chlamydia.

You have been warned.)

DRAGONS!

We are up against the Bulls who you guys friggin' Ka-Rushed on February 13th. I have it on good authority that they then spent the entirety of the next day searching through Facebook for old girlfriends who they would then desperately attempt to contact in order to find out if they ever thought of them, if they still thought they were special, to just kinda ask what went wrong and maybe just maybe they'd like to get together for a drink so they could, yknow, just talk.

Gentlemen, you friggin' massacred their Valentine's Day and made each and every one of them courier teddy bears across the country to each and every woman they had ever hurt, offended or led astray and you made them BEG for their forgiveness. It was a 12 Step Program of romantic atonement and emotional devastation that you forced upon them!

And because of that, this Sunday they are going to be very dangerous.

So, be prepared for a game where these guys are gonna be pissed and angry and are going to be looking for a 50% discount on their post-Valentine's Day candybox of revenge. Therefore allow us to frustrate #11, 13 and especially #33 and grant them the opportunity to make stupid mistakes and take dumb penalties. Let us give them the opportunity to turn against one another like rabid guinea pigs as they fight over the table scraps of vegetable produce that we cast down to them. Let us watch as they squeal and bicker and, ultimately, lose.

Let us, in short, take them down to Funkytown.

I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.

Get ready for the playoffs,
Kevin.

Summer Dragons invite

(It's only February but my team is already prepping for summer hockey. And my invitation / reminder even had a Feb 14 theme. After reading this, wouldn't you want to play...?)

Yeah-yeah-yeah, I know...

It's cold outside and it's mid-February and you just realized that it's that it's February 14th on Monday and you're in a friggin' panic trying to figure out what the hell you can get your sweetie/significant other/hot co-worker/imaginary partner for Valentine's Day.

May I make this suggestion...

Give her the gift of Dragons summer hockey.

With this gift you will be able to say, "Honey, I love/adore/admire/kind of like you so much that I'm willing to give you the night off. For the entire summer. One night a week I will get out of your hair and let you have the place all to yourself. I won't bother you. I won't be underfoot. It will all be your own personal time. This is how much I love/adore/admire/kind of like you: I will even show you how to operate the remote control so you can use it all on your own to watch whatever you want on your night off. One night a week. Every Tuesday. It's my gift to you. Happy Valentine's Day. I love/adore/admire/kind of like you."

There you go. Problem solved. Happy friggin' Valentine's Day.

GENTLEMEN!!!

This summer! Tuesday night! Dragons hockey!Yes or no?

Are you willing to take to the ice when everyone else is requesting ice for their drinks? Are you willing to wear shoulder pads, knee pads and woolen socks while everyone else is skimping down to summer skimpiness? Are you friggin' man enough to say "Hell yes! I play hockey in the winter AND I play it in the summer! I play the sport I love every gawddamn season of the friggin' year. Cuz that's what being a gawddamn Canadian means! Americans can have their guns and their limp-wristed beer and their hot former governors from Alaska who scare the beejeezuz out of me and kind of turn me on at the same time. I would rather take my powerful, tasty, knock you on your knees after six of them Canadian beer, my minority federal government, my homegrown (from every country in the world) friggin' beautiful women and my year 'round, every season, hot-cold-raining-snowing gawddamn hockey any day!!"

So, yes or no?

Let me know asap. Which kind of means "now".

Much thanks. Enjoy your weekend. Be kind to people. Especially people who are bigger than you and have been drinking.

Speechless

I don't know if this has ever happened to you...

You go to a nice restaurant with a friend. You've never been there before. It's perhaps a little pricey, and you notice something strange and out of place on the menu: a comfort food like mom never made and at a price that she never would have charged. Something like a $25 piece of meatloaf.

Picture the scene in "Pulp Fiction" where John Travolta talks to Uma Thurman about the $5 milkshake, but multiply that scene by whatever factor that makes it ridiculous.

Now. Hold that thought but push it ever so gently to the side.

Cleanse the palate and clear the mind. Think of a waterfall. Now, read on...

I finally made it to see "The King's Speech". I realize that I'm incredibly late to the party on this one. It wasn't that I didn't want to see it, but it was just not that high on my "Gotta see this film" list. "True Grit", "Black Swan", heck even "Tron" were all higher on my list.

I have heard nothing but wonderful things about the movie, from Colin Firth's terrific performance through to the powerful and emotional script. Truly, I have only heard good things. There was no reason not to see it when everyone is saying how good it is.

But I didn't feel the need to see it. Because I honestly feel that I've seen it before.

"The Queen", "The Madness of King George", "Elizabeth" and "Shakespeare in Love". Stir them all together and then mix with "Awakenings", "Rain Man" and "A Beautiful Mind". Add just a hint of "My Left Foot". Stir well. Bake for half an hour. And out comes "The King's Speech".

None of this is to take away from the film's performances. Colin Firth is equal parts regal and sympathetic as the Man Who Does Not Want to Be King. Guy Pearce is terrific as the regal and somewhat bullying brother who abdicates. Helena Bonham Carter is strong as the regal and yet sympathetic and loving wife. And Geoffrey Rush is captivating as the common man who must assist the king to become more king-ly.

All are regal and common and very, very human in the correct measures.

But as good as they are, the film itself feels like it's a made for tv, paint by numbers production. Everything in the film seems to be shot in close-up with the actors filling up half the screen. Nothing ever occurs in the background, everything happens right up front.

There is also no sense of suspense, uncertainty or risk in the movie -- everything runs its course, the king will become regal but won't forget the commoner who helped him, everyone is basically good and everything will turn out okay at the end.

But the thing is this: while it's almost impossible to dislike the film, at the same time I found it difficult to admire or even come close to loving.

All of this indifference towards a film that has been nominated for 12 Academy Awards and has more nominations than any other film this year.

I love "Inception". I adore and am dazzled by "The Social Network". "Let Me In" and "Never Let Me Go" are two of my favorite movies from last year. Heck, I even enjoyed "No Strings Attached". So it's not that I'm bitter, burned out, tired or jaded. A great film can still wrap me in its arms and transport me to a place of wonder.

But "The King's Speech" is like very expensive mac and cheese on a high class menu: it has all the ingredients, it's carefully prepared, but in the end it's just comfort food posing as a high class meal. Nothing surprising, nothing daring, and all very cozy in its presentation.

And while there's nothing wrong with that, it is certainly not a film that deserves to be recognized as the Best Picture of the year.

Bruins Canadiens thuggery

I'll state this right up front: I think fighting in NHL hockey games is stupid.

Stupid, unnecessary and the absolute lowest aspect of a terrific sport.

I've had debates with people about it. One guy even explained to me that obviously I just don't understand the game (he hasn't seen me play every week with my team and see how well we play -- or perhaps he's saying that because he *has* seen me play. I guess that's an 'either-or' kind of thing.)

I understand the rough physical nature of the sport. A good solid body check is a beautiful thing to behold. And because of that physical aspect of the game, the NHL is hesitant to take action against head shots and the concussions that can be the result. They seem to collectively shrug their shoulders and say "It's part of the game."

And heaven forbid the NHL ever do anything to stop the fights that occur on ice. No other professional sport has fights the way hockey does and fans seem to eat it up; therefore, once again, the league doesn't want to do anything to keep it controlled. After all, it's the fights that allow clips of the game to play on sports networks. It goes like this on the sports clips shows: "Here's a tiny bit of hockey, here's a nice play, here's a nice goal and WOW look at the fight that broke out during the game! Let's take a good long look at that fight!! WOW!!"

Last night's game between the Bruins and the Canadiens is sure to have all the sports shows buzzing, not because it was an exceptionally good game, but because it had 192 minutes in penalties.

A regulation game lasts 60 minutes. This game had 192 minutes in penalties between the two teams. Any way you do the math, that's a lot of penalties.

But the worst of the night came from Boston player Gregory Campbell. In his fight against Canadien Tom Pyatt, Campbell is seen taking his elbow pad and swinging into Pyatt's face. (I honestly don't feel like embedding the video, but it occurs at the 4:14 mark here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEz0khSQtk0 if you're inclined to take a look.)

Pyatt gets a punch in, Campbell yanks Pyatt's helmet off and he then starts whaling at him with his elbow pad. It's difficult to see if Campbell even made contact with his fist or even tried -- he just gives Pyatt uppercut after uppercut with the elbow pad.

And make no mistake: elbow pads are not soft and they are not foamy -- they're like bumpers on a car. So, imagine someone ramming your face into a car bumper over and over again. That's what Campbell did to Pyatt.

I don't know the history between the two players and I don't care. What Campbell did was disgusting and thuggish and criminal.

If fighting is a necessary part of the game (and it's not, because if it was, there would be more fights during the play-offs) then let the players fight and break their hands and ruin their careers. But when a player uses a piece of his equipment to attack an opponent, it's like using a weapon.

It's a deplorable and sad part of the game when something like this happens.

And as you may notice, no one will take note of it. Because it will make the sports channels. And that's all the NHL cares about.

After the universe's sneeze

(Here's the team greeting. My lovely wife and I actually did manage to have our First! Ever! evening alone in our own house, but then...)

My Fellow Dragons:

I've got some good news and some bad news.

The good news: I'm now below 200 pounds! I hopped on the scale this morning and I was 199.5 pounds! And it's been so easy to do! I simply haven't eaten since Tuesday!

The bad news: I've had the flu. I've had no appetite. And one of the after effects of the flu has been a facial infection that has me on antibiotics with the doctor's warning "If it gets worse by Saturday or there's no improvement by Sunday you need to go to the hospital for an i.v. of antibiotics."

It has been a week of "Typhoid Mary Meets Piotr the Plague Master" at the household: I had to do a quick bail on Sunday's post-game victory drinks because my lovely wife was sick and, as it turned out, I had to rush her to the local clinic because she came down with horrendous strep throat. Geel, who had a fever Saturday night when he was off skiing with friends, had to go to the doctor on Monday because he also developed strep throat. And Zed still has the cold he came down with last Friday, but last night it came with an ear infection.

As for me, I was feeling like a million bucks until Monday night around nine o'clock when I began feeling chilled, I started shivering and my teeth started chattering. I then spent the whole sleepless night sweating through t-shirt after t-shirt and pissing like a race horse. That was Monday. Tuesday was sleeping all day. And Thursday was yet another trip to the doctor because my glans were swollen and my cheek and the upper bridge of my nose were sensitive to the touch. Hence the antibiotics and the "get to the hospital if it doesn't get better" suggestion.

The only cool thing about all this is that I have no appetite whatsoever and my usual "I'm hungry therefore cranky" state of being has been eliminated. I am completely and utterly indifferent to food. Today is the first day I'm kind of hungry, but up until now it's been lots of liquids, the occasional banana and piece of toast and tons of Gatorade. The last full meal I had was Monday night's leftover steak and garlic mashed potatoes from Saturday's evening out.

All of which is a long-winded explanation of why it's damned unlikely I will be playing Sunday. It would be foolish to even contemplate playing but (a) we're off to Mexico and if I miss this game I won't be playing for three weeks, and (b) I'm too dedicated/stubborn/stupid to take a stand today and say I cannot play on Sunday.

Unless of course I'm in the hospital with an i.v. in my arm. I guess that would be a pretty good excuse for not playing. Oh if only there was a doctor reading this e-mail who could give me some guidance!

This Sunday is a re-match against the Zulu's. They skunked us 4-0 in our last outing, but they were recently beaten by the Beer Raider 6-2 and we just beat them last week, and last Sunday they lost to the Tiger Sharks 5-2 who we also demolished a couple of weeks ago. They are on a three game losing streak; we are on a three game winning streak. Momentum is in our favour.

In other words: revenge will be ours and tears they shall cry into their collective losers' beer!

I'd like to say I'll be joining you, but as you can see it is most unlikely. I'm hoping a bunch of you still have the team roster I forwarded a couple of weeks ago. Please make sure the names and numbers are all correct.

And that is all. Please let us know if you are unable attend -- and hopefully your reasons are healthier than mine.

Stay well,
Kevin.

Universe smiles and sneezes

(Last week's Dragons greetings. It's ironic how things later played out. But that's another tale. But on Sunday we won the game 4-3.)

My Dragons:

Sometimes the planets move into perfect alignment and the universe smiles.

This weekend Gee is heading skiing with friends of ours. The little monkey likes to ski and we've got friends who (a) have only one son who happens to be the same age as our boy who, (b) enjoys Gee's company and (c) they happen to be really, really nice people. They took him skiing with them for a couple of days during the Christmas break, they all had a great time, and so they've invited him again this weekend. It's very, very kind of them.

And, on this exact same weekend, a friend of Zed's (who came up from our old neigborhood for his birthday party) has invited him for a sleepover. We're dropping the boy off Saturday afternoon.

None of it was planned. None of it was organized. It just happened. It just clicked together. Therefore, look if you will at this equation... Geel away for the weekend + Zed away for the evening = parents at home on their own for the first time EVER!!!

An evening that will perhaps consist of a delicious restaurant meal, perhaps to be followed by an Academy Award nominated movie, and then perhaps to be followed by... well, we'll see how if goes; if nothing else, at the very least we will be able to sleep-in Sunday morning.

An all-adult, child-free evening! No looking at the clock and worrying about the babysitter, no need to concern ourselves about what the boys are doing, no need to answer the youthful question "What are we going to do today?" First! Time! Ever!

But, as so often happens, the universe, after aligning the planets perfectly, smiles, then giggles, then laughs, and then emits a guffaw of potentially teasing cruelty.

Because it was then that the sneezing began.

Last night Zed starting sniffling. And his nose started running. And he woke us up at two in the morning because he was so congested that he couldn't sleep. And today it's kleenex after kleenex after kleenex.

He is drinking lots of water and he looks pretty good. He is in good spirits as he sits and watches tv. He is close to being on the mend after a quick and moderate cold. But is our weekend of wonder and joy now shot to absolute and total craptitude? -- I guess tomorrow will tell the tale.

So, come Sunday if I'm smiling it might be for a multitude of reasons. It might be because he got healthy enough to visit his friend; it might be because my lovely wife & I had our first in-house child-free night EVER; or it may simply be in account of victory...

That's right, Dragons victory is yet again on the horizon.

This Sunday at 5:15 down at the MasterCard #3 we play the Toronto Beer Raiders. Their name suggests that they don't pay for their own drinks. When means they're cheap Scottish basterds who must be destroyed. (Of course I derive my knowledge of the Scottish people from a Kids in the Hall sketch
and if the Kids in the Hall can't be trusted, who can? It's because of KitH that I hate the Swiss and know the answer to the movie title you can't remember is "Citizen Kane! Citizen Kane!! It was CITIZEN KANE!!!"

So, a weekend of potential child-free pleasure followed by potential victory. How big will the grin on my face be at the end of the day on Sunday? -- Well, we'll see if the universe smiles or just laughs its teasing, tantalizing butt off. Time will tell.

So if I'm grinning before the game on Sunday, you'll know why. And if I'm grinning after the game, we'll all have reason to be grinning together.