lucky punk

2010's local adventures found us at the gun range, with the usual suspects.

Aside: it is truly rare to find people that won't drive you crazy after a few hours, let alone a few days.  You know, people who will stop to let you take funny/beautiful pictures or who understand the need to eat something new and different when you are actually some place that is new and different or who indulge in stunts/stops so we can say that. yes, we did it and no, you probably never will.  People who have mental check-lists of things to see/do/eat and who agree that there's enough time to sleep when you're dead.  I have a renewed appreciation for AnCe and Nish.  Who better to shoot things with?

So: gun range in Gormley (where.  the fuck.  is that.).  FUN!  We shot three 9mm handguns (Sig Sauer, Smith  & Wesson, Glock), a 45mm Glock (my fave) and a Smith & Wesson .22 Rifle.  Of these, the Glock 45 is my favourite.  It's heavier, but I think because of that, it feels more solid.  Regardless, the Glocks were the better gun - a long first trigger squeeze, but smooth and consistent.  Leave it to the ...Austrians?  Huh.

I got ready for my introduction to the 12-gauge fabarm shotgun.  Understand a little of my trepidation: I knew someone who dislocated her shoulder from the recoil of a shotgun.  I had seen the bruising that had crept all the way up her neck.  As I waited my turn, the person in front of me actually lost her ear muffs from the barrel of the gun smashing into them.  Oh.  Dear.  God.  Ance and Nish had already gone and they were happy as clams.  I was last to shoot.

A new (very appropriate zombie) target is posted.  Here's how to stand: left foot in front, lean forward, ass sticking out, place the stock on the meaty part of your right shoulder, round your body around the barrel - hug it like you love it! - left hand on the barrel, right cheek on the cool, smooth stock.  Close my left eye, shuck the barrel back, adjust my shot, slow trigger squeeze and BLAM!  In the left cheek.  Recoil?  Who cares, it's still alive.  Shuck the barrel, the empty case comes flying out, adjust my sight and BLAM! Skims the right ear and jawbone.  Shuck the barrel, adjust my sight, one shot left, make it count.  Blam!  Through the throat.  The instructor laughs as he takes down the target.  "You took his head clean off!  Nice job!" And he's right.  If it wasn't for the white border, the actual zombie would be in two pieces.  God, that felt good.  And totally badass.

the valet kind of life

If you're going to turn 30, you may as well do it with style!  That's what AnCe decided, anyway.  That's how I found myself pulling up to King Edward's Hotel for brunch.  With Pollyanna in the passenger seat, I'm marvelling at the architecture.  And then, a valet pop ups and opens the door.  To my car.  My scratched-up, now-discontinued, plastic Saturn.  Bizarro!  Ignoring all my ghetto twinges of leaving my keys in the hands of some stranger, we walk into King Eddie's lobby with all its early twentieth-century charm.  We are, of course, last to arrive (Pollyanna + Brown Time = inevitable delays).

After the introductions (none of which I remember, really) we dig in.  Brunch is a seven-table affair with some of the most delicious food I've ever had!  Pre-peeled shrimp and made-in-house cocktail sauce, beef Wellington, Latin-style shrimp-and-scallop salad, lamb with mint sauce, four kinds of pate and seven kinds of cheese, cracked-for-convenience crab legs, ... I was in heaven.  And the desserts!  A display case of fudge, tiny muffins, cake, cake, cake, and that mousse-in-a-wineglass.  *faint*

So, yeah, it was expensive, but completely worth it.  If for nothing else but to get a glimpse of how the other half lives.  Happy birthday AnCe!

Now Playing: Social Network

I went to see Social Network last week, starring a very talented cast, headed up by Jesse Eisenberg.  Let's get it out there: I don't know Mark Zuckerberg personally (obviously) nor am I affiliated with him in any way; however, I do not like him.  Thank you for Facebook, Mark, but could you please stay out of my pictures?  So, yeah, I wasn't very interested in seeing the movie, but it was getting some very positive reviews, some Oscar buzz, and I thought "alright, fine". 

The movie was very good.  I mean, really good.  Every single cast member brought it to the set.  Jesse Eisenberg was amazing and Andrew Garfield hit it out of the park.  All other cast member, including usually banal JT, turned it up.  They were required to deliver quick, pithy script and to deliver it in a realistic and believable way.  That scene where Eduardo freaks out over an article about his pet cannibal chicken?  Priceless!  It's the little details that you find in these exchanges that make the whole film memorable.

I still don't know how I feel about a biopic based on a living person and on a story less than ten years old (can it be accurate? is it being influenced by people with vested interests?  how biographical is it really?).  Then again, how accurate is any story and don't all movies have the directors/producers influencing the subject matter?.

Anyway, it's worth checking it out.  I "like"d it.  4 out of 5 stars.

the grandest canyon / O!

We took a two-day trip to the Grand Canyon National Park, going over the Hoover Dam to get there.  A word (or several) about Hoover: that Dam is pretty cool.  I mean, the engineering of it all!  That kind of labour could only happen during a depression when people are too desperate to say no to 14-hour days of pouring cement while a several-million tonnes of water was waiting to burst through.  It was worth the sidebar.

So, the Grand Canyon: it is not the widest, the deepest or the longest, but it is the grandest.  We arrived at around 1400 and it all seemed very pretty.  I mean, it was big, but mostly, it was the colour of the rocks and almost-painting like quality of the view that was so beautiful.  It wasn't until sunset that it became spectacular.  The shadows lengthened, the rocks took on a burnished-gold hue and the entire place just seemed to steep itself in awesome.  The sun took about three minutes to set and within five minutes of that it was dead dark.  I mean, DEAD dark.  Considering the serious lack of guardrails throughout most of the park, it's no wonder that the shuttle buses that spirit travellers through the vast area picked up anyone at any point on the roads.

The next day we took a leisurely three-hour rim walk.  It was just as amazing.  Being a little sensitive to perceived "dangerous" situations, I spent  the walk with tingly palms and soles.  I was sad to leave so quickly, but I hope to return one and make to the bottom as well as to the North Rim.

***

Back in Vegas, there was only one thing left to do: O!  Here is but a sampling of statements made:
- Did that guy just walk on water?
- Is that a pool on the stage?
- Oh my god, the entire stage is a pool!
- How are the mermaids breathing under there for like thirty minutes?
- Haha, audience participation...
- Wait, the audience guy just got pushed into the pool!
- Hey, that guy's on fire!
- I think my brain just went poof.
...Go see O.

Also: Batman with showgirl on his arm.  'nuff said.

A quick jaunt to M&M World, dinner at this tiny place called Nobu (which was freakishly good), a random movie and then home. 

viva las vegas (and related adventures)

Where had I left off?  Oh yes - Napa!  So much happened...

Napa: we toured in wine country for a bit, finding a Canadian winery (!!)  and, of course, drinking there.  During our wander about town, I declared a need for seafood and we tried A Fish Story, but was too smelly.  A few doors down, there was a sushi place so that's where we popped in.  When I actually looked at the menu, I realised that we were in a Morimoto restaurant!  Hai, indeed!  After that, we stumbled back to SanFran, with a little llama detour, and spent our night in the sketchtastic Americania.  Seriously, don't stay there.

Next: Yosemite.  Glacier-produced bouldery goodness.  It's such a different park than what I'm used to here in Canada.  I mean, seriously, wheelchair-accessible?  The trails are paved, not just mashed down grass that looks vaguely trodden-upon.  We did four trails before heading off to Vegas the next day.  Or at least tried to head off to Vegas.  The direct (seven-hour) route was closed - thanks a lot boulders! - and so we had to detour and do an eleven-hour trek through Fresno, of all places.

Anyway, we arrived (exhausted) in Vegas and checked into our swank PH Westgate suite with its King-sized bed and its padded headboard and soaker-tub-with-water-jets and I spent a delirious evening getting clean.  The next day, I wandered about the strip, taking pictures while consulting my Lonely Planet and being a total tourist.  I must have caught the Bellagio fountains at least seven times, but each time was amazing. Went to bed early that night in order to make it up for 6am the next morning.

Next stop: Grand Canyon!

Now Playing: The Town

So, I needed to kill four hours in Las Vegas on a Sunday afternoon.  Naturally, I went to see a movie.  Which movie?  The Town, starring and directed by Ben Affleck.

It was okay.  It did its job (i.e. waste time) and it was true to life in that it didn't have any real resolutions at the end.  I did think that most of the characters got off a bit easy, but whatevs.  I can't get super-excited about this review as the movie was a mere "meh".  It wasn't good, it wasn't bad, and it wasn't ugly (enough).  3 out of 5 stars.

A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore

The stars aligned for this month's Book Club pick: A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore.  It's a Halloween-themed book (death) and is set in San Francisco (where I read most of it) - yay!

This is the third book by Moore that I've read after Lamb and Stupidest Angel.  I thoroughly enjoyed Lamb - it's on the left as one of my must-read books - and Stupidest Angel was pretty solid.  High expectations were had before I even cracked open the cover. 

In short:  expectations met. 

In long: despite the glaringly obvious conclusion, reading the book was really fun.  Maybe it was because I was actually on Powell Ave and in Ghirardelli Square as I was reading, but I got a real sense of the City by the Bay and all its eccentricities.  It's like the city became a character in an of itself - its sewers, bridges, hills and trolleys.  It was a really neat perspective.

Charlie has to be one of my favourite literary characters in recent reading.  Assuming his Beta Male mantle with ease, he does his best (and it is a very good best) to cope with wife's death, his daughter's "kitty" powers, his dogs and his employees' growing weirdness.  In many ways, Charlie is a great success in most everything he does, including his second job as a Death Merchant.  He makes a good case for the evolutionary necessity of embracing your Flight (over Fight) tendencies and the aphrodisiacal effect that a man who listens has on women.  Also: they make good dads, as he demonstrates with Sophie.

All in all, considering this was a Halloween-themed pick, I recommend it highly. In fact, i recommend Christopher Moore highly. He's always an intelligent read without being a intellectual exercise.  And he uses swear words in the most creative ways possible.  Heinous fuckery, indeed.