Opposite Land

Went fishing in the ocean last night avec a few beers and zero life jackets. The boat, she was nice and unstable. Got into land with almost no fuel just before a storm hit. I asked about the rules on drinking and boating and also about not wearing life jackets and got some pretty vague answers. Truth is, there's not a whole bunch of rules here. In fact, the only rule that is widely observed is there's absolutely no j-walking - strange if you consider that's the one rule consistently broken in North America. I live in opposite land.

When I Wore A Younger Man's Clothes

The fundamental difference between people in T.O. and here is that in CPH, people grow up much, much faster. It's not strange to see a ten year old smoking and it's common for a 12 year old kid to drink and have a girlfriend. There's two cases in Denmark of 13 year old boys becoming Father's. What seems barbaric to Canadians, is actually government sanctioned. There's a new policy encouraging women to have children in their late teens and early twenties, so they won't have to miss so much work when they're in the workforce.

It seems superficial, but their expedited youth permeates most things and the strange result is an age obsessed culture. Psychologically, the people aren't fully formed - their quick advance ironically stunts emotional growth. They know how to look like they've got it under control, but these fuckers are a mess.

Freddy Mercury

This week, Copenhagen is hosting the world Out Games. To those of you out of the "hoop", it's the same as the Olympics, but with gays. The marquee event is the 69 meter dash, in which 69 people compete to break the world record of 6.9 seconds. It's worth noting that in the gymnastics competition, the teams consist of the exact same individuals that participated in China last year. Which raises an interesting question - how does one actually qualify to be considered gay? What kind of proof are we talking about here?

The city is filled with competing athletes and their supporters. It's not uncommon to see men dressed in their team uniforms walking down the street. Saw two guys in Mexico sports outfits shopping. Funny.

1988 Saab Turbo

Holy shit do I miss my old ride. Malecite green with tan leather interior = awesome. The buttons required a degree in hieroglyphics to sort out. Little windshield wipers on the headlamps. The ignition key in between the two front seats. The turbo that sounded like a jet engine. I don't miss the bi-weekly trips to the mechanic, but every time I see a similar Saab drive by me here (it was one of a kind - I've never seen one of the same coloring), which is often, I feel nostalgic as a Russian sailor.

If a car could be funny, that car was Sam Kinison - quirky, high pitched, loud, ironic, low to the ground. She was a pig from 0 - 120, but I've never driven a car that went from 120 - 140 like that. Like all good things, it had a sweet spot and took a while to fully understand.

Men

Was supposed to go out for drinks last night with an acquaintance here in the Schmagen. It being Thursday night, my juices were flowing all day in anticipation of a good round of activity situations. By six pm I could fucking taste it. I sent a text to the dude and waited for the location to kick the living shit out of my system. And I waited. And waited some more.

Ten thirty at night and I get a text saying he has a headache.

A headache! Do I need to explain why this just plain sucks ass? Obviously not, so I'll skip to the summary.

According to my coworkers, the real culprit is the Danish women (yeah, right). They are known to complain so loudly to their men that the fella's don't usually tell their ladies about "boys nights" (saving proceeding days from dirty looks, etc). Then, when it's time to go out, the men often crumble under the weight of their women's on-the-spot protest.

In other words, every man here is a short-sighted pussyface. How did they let the situation get like this? They are weak and stupid - every single one of them.

Cleveland

Just when I want to punch a place in the mouth it goes and does something good. Following in the footsteps of Sweden, the Copenhagen media collectively refused to photograph Britney Spears during her recent concert. How fucking cool is that?

My Bullshit

I've got fuck all to say. I think the world can exist without my bullshit for a day.

The Big Lebowski

Went bowling this past Saturday night. Got plastered on beer and cheap vino and had a little rhythm going for a game or two. The group next to us was losing their shit every time someone got a strike or a gutter-ball, yelling and screaming what I can only assume were profanities. Had a great time, but left envious of people that could get so jacked over smashing pins with a heavy ball.

Reminded me of a few weeks earlier at an amusement park when I smashed a plate with a wooden ball in a single throw. The carney actually got pissed at me for not celebrating the accomplishment. He was legitimately put off by the way I responded plainly and let me know it with a flame of insults. Obviously, the guy is a whack job, but I've been wondering lately if I should be taking more pleasure in the little simple shit in life. Maybe we all need to bring it down an intellectual level or two, get "gutter" drunk and keep this situation simple, Big Lebowski style.

Howard Cosell

Trying to watch the final round of the British Open in Copenhagen was like stealing the Mona Lisa... nearly impossible. Even the British pubs here looked at me like I was on crack when I asked about watching golf. They're not big sports fans here, except soccer aka "ballet ball". They don't have university sports and people that are athletically talented have to drop out of school to play, which contributes to a strange kind of resentment to gamesmanship.

Found the game at a bar called the Dubliner and watched with a handful of Scottish guys that were two fisting pints like it was their j-o-b. When Tom Watson lost they went into a frenzy and drank even more. I agree that sports are largely a waste of time, but on occasion they can crystallize drama in a way you can't get from movies or TV shows. Sports are the original reality shows and have a place, certainly more than they're afforded here.

Below a clip from Cosell/Ali prior to the legendary fight where Ali stopped the undefeated George Forman in eight rounds.

Politics

Danish politics are a fucking mystery. There's nine hundred political parties here, all of which seem to advocate increasing taxes and restricting immigration. What immigration? Oh, you mean that one Turkish taxi driver? Sure, kick him out - see if I care.

Truth is, I have no clue what's going on here politically. What I do know, is that if I was Mayor of Toronto I could solve the garbage crisis in four seconds. I'd break the union like Jewish weddings break glasses. Everyone that's ever worked for the garbage union would be banned for working for the city for life. Maybe I'd even put them in jail.

You're trying to tell me that in these difficult times there wouldn't be a line up to Thunder Bay of people willing to work for $17 an hour for a little manual labor? It would take a whole eight minutes to train this new staff and I promise you, you'd never have to worry about this shit pile up ever again.

Norman Lee Levine

It's my Dad's 78th birthday today, so if you see him please give him a low-five or a pat on the ass. Norm-y has done a whole bunch of shit and still has the firmest handshake I know. He likes to guess peoples weight and age and watch baseball and bet horses. If you asked him how old he feels, he'd say 16 and wouldn't blink. In other words, he's a man. More precisely, an urban soldier - starting in the shoe business and finishing his career with 30 roller coaster years on Bay Street.

Of the thousand good stories he tells, one of my favorite was the time he went with his Dad to a Toronto Blizzard game at Varsity Stadium. The family's never been into soccer, but we like to get involved in a game - any game. Anyway, for some reason my Grandfather Saul, an otherwise composed man in a suit and hat, stands up and yells, "fucka you Philadelphia" in a Greek accent. The story still doesn't make any sense to me, or have a typical punch line, but to hear Norm tell it you'd piss your pants every time. And that's what he has that's so special - the ability to turn a meaningless life moment into an event. He brings joy where there previously and conceivably was none.

In his later years behind his stock broker desk Norm had a bumper sticker on his wall, strange considering he never had one on his car and generally wasn't the kind of guy to stick with a slogan or saying for more than a few minutes. He liked his material fresh. The sticker read, "youth is wasted on the young". Kind of appropriate for a man turning 78 that still feels 16 years old.

R and D

One of the hardest things to adjust to moving over here is that it's fucking impossible to find things I need other than beer and crepes. Locating a pharmacy requires a PHD in cartography and a fast, young camel. The places are about two percent as big as a Shoppers or Walgreens and they won't sell you anything with medicine without a prescription. If you get a cold, the strongest shit they have is basically chicken noodle soup and a punch in the ribs.

I half admire the bastards for the dependence on their own bodies to do the healing and their pro-sick-day social policy. But, I miss cruising the football field size pharmacy for all the new products. Gilette's razor making division is more creative than all the French painters combined. When Crest invented toothpaste for day and night, I felt an emotion that bordered on love.

Man Bits

Not sure if I posted this clip before, but I'll give a brief description anyways. It's a Japanese game show where contestants read tongue twisters. If they mess up, they get hit HARD in the package.

You could pay an infinite amount of money and I would not go on this show. A billion dollars would not be enough. Ten billion dollars = no way Jose. However, for a good Indian butter chicken roti...

My Stomach

Got a bad case of food poisoning this weekend. Think I lost five pounds in ten minutes. The restaurant was so bad, the waiter took away my beer before it was finished. I've written about a hundred letters in my head but can't bring myself to make a formal complaint - it's not like I'm going to accept a free meal there even if it was offered. Best to move on. However, my boycotting the restaurant doesn't feel like sufficient justice. I've contemplated ideas of rocks through windows and posting a big sign that reads, "five star food poisoning" on the front door. But, nothing feels appropriate... Ideas???

Freedom of Choice

Sometimes people that like to be yelled at ask me the main difference between Europe and North America. As there's nobody in the world more qualified to answer this question, I respond without pause, "the toilets". You see, in North America, when you flush the toilet, you only have one flushing option - the silver lever to the left. In Europe, they give you two - a half flush for urine, a full flush for more serious deposits. If you take a big pee, you can use the big flush, or a small poop, the small flush. In other words, life in Europe is more complex, but there are choices.

Isn't it amazing there hasn't been a North America v. Europe war yet?

Big Fish

It's Monday morning and it feels like the right time for a little inspirational chat. Like the rest of you douchebags, money has never been tighter and landing a big contract or fee or commission or whatever would feel fucking great. Enough character building learning experiences. It's time to earn. Sometimes it feels like it's never gonna happen, but then again, maybe it will...?

The Bounce

I bike to work like any other Euro puff around here and am lucky to say the ride takes me along a beautiful lake shaped water thing with swans and ducks and some heron. You know, nature shit. There's a popular running track beside the bike path and just like in Amsterdam, about 99% of the runners are ladies. Us men folk don't do running. And if we do, it sure as fuck ain't by some birdshit filled lake. We run through forests and strangers living rooms.

What's particularly interesting about the ladies and their running is that none of these typically young women are wearing a bra. I don't mean they aren't wearing a sports bra - I mean NO bra. It's like watching a tall person bounce a basketball, "boing, boing, boing." Is there some kind of tit bouncing competition I'm not aware of? Tits really can bounce, man. But won't that make the tits all messed up later? And doesn't that shit hurt?

I remain constantly amazed by these subtle cultural differences. Oh, and parking tickets here are $125 a crack.

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Clinch your ass cheeks together, cuz today is THE day. Specifically, at 12:34 and 56 seconds, it will be 12:34:56 on the day 7/8/09. For those of you that have trouble sleeping, that means it will be 12:34:56 7/8/09.

The significance of this is vast, maybe ever worse than y2k. Paranoid math students will for one fleeting moment feel a sense of calm. Accountants will smile. Chaos I tells ya!

Martin Streek

Is it just me, or have a lot of famous people died in the past few weeks? Heart attacks, suicide, natural causes, cancer - the Grim Reaper has been a busy man. High season for obituary writers. Los Angeles funeral homes must be stacked to the roof. They used to say celebrity deaths came in threes. Thirty-threes maybe.

Martin Streek was one of my favorite radio guys. To think he got fired then killed himself is just terrible. Reading his suicide note posted online wasn't best idea I've had recently. He was great at what he did and behind Alan Cross and Andy Frost could have been considered the voice of the city.

On a lighter note, if you haven't seen fainting goats before, please watch the clip below. Fucking hilarious. I suppose there's something similar between these furry creatures and celebrities - something just ain't right with them.

Palin

How psyched am I that Palin quit her job in Alaska? She'll probably be on Fox News or have a radio show and give President a run in 0'12. Even with the on-the-job media training, she probably won't make it through the primaries with that block of cheese for a brain, but how fucking awesome would it be if she actually was the Republican candidate? Who will be her running mate, Cliff Clavin?

Anyway... working on a more comprehensive list of drinking spots. This one will have pithy comments for each place and the list will include less personal choices, so please allow time for me to brew this one up nice.

Tour de Finland

They had the annual "wife carrying" competition this weekend in Finland. Sounds like a joke, but it's a big deal up here. To everyone's dismay it was won by an Estonian couple for the eleventh consecutive year. Nothing pisses the Finn's off more. Seriously... The Estonian's have another year to insult Finnish men for being weak and their women for being overweight. They love that kind of humor here. Takes about four brain cells to appreciate and works nicely with a healthy cackle after the insult.

Estonian's obviously dominate this event and if you've ever met an Estonian you'll know why (practice). Come to think of it, if one had to describe the Estonian disposition (physical and mental), the words "wife carrying" make a strange amount of sense.

The Albion

A list of favorite drinking holes, by nature, is bound to have some notable omissions.
Please note that I have bent entirely to public will and remain prostrate until further notice.

10. Beef N' Bird, Sudbury
9. Sneaky Dee's Bar, Toronto
8. The Albion, Gravenhurst
7. La Cite, Apartment #308, Montreal
6. 367 Euclid Ave. front patio, Toronto
5. 149 Markham St. kitchen, Toronto
4. Barnzy Cottage, Kashe Lake
3. St. George Apartments, Toronto
2. Frederick Street dining room, Toronto
1. Biftek, Montreal

Canada

Happy Canada Day.

Hope you ass-wipes get snow.

If you celebrate Pride Day with ass-less chaps (it has been pointed out all chaps are inherently ass-less - thanks Larry Bort!) on Church Street, then how do you celebrate Canada Day? Blowing a Mountie?