... the hunt....

I first read this article for a first year class. Actually it was this article that led me to consider cultural theory as a degree.

Someone reminded me about it today. I was talking about 'coohunting'. Not the website (no matter how much i love it), but the profession, marketing practice that was popular pre-internet. Searching through streets and stores and skate parks and dark bars for the people whoknew what was 'up' and then ripping it from their hands (or off their feet, their backs, their bookshelves and cd racks) and selling it to the public... forcing the alterna-kids to find the 'next big thing'.

It got me to thinking about whether that is possible, or even worthwhile in the exponentially faster trend cycle of the internet age... and so I went to search for it online. To remind myself what exactly that article said that made me so curious about spotting meaning in social symbol, and the process by which things become "things"... the journey of a real-world meme. and whether that process which so enchanted me a decade ago could be applied to the world i live in now...

.... and after some googling to avoid paying for a New Yorker Subscription to access their online archives i realized it was written by Malcolm Gladwell... The Canadian-raised author and theorist who had his 15 minutes when his books Blink, and the Tipping Point became the hottest things to pick up in the airport before a transatlantic flight, or a long weekend at the cottage. I always resisted, even refused, to read these books... for the same reason I hate Michael Moore movies. They have all the right ideas, but men like Gladwell and Moore make it so easy to fire off empty catch phrases without any content, research or thought... It propagandizes ideas which I actually believe to be true, worthwhile and useful. But they are never implemented or even studied because people would rather have the cliche than the lesson. It pisses me off that no matter how much I hate the Tipping Point for its Celestine-Prophecy-freakonomics-michael-moore-fly-by-night-nyt-bestseller list popularity Gladwell has a point...

I just think he pretty much summed it up in this article.... in 1997.

What does Gladwell think about trending in the internet age? I should probably read his book.

Its ironic that the only reason i dont want to read it is because everyone else loved it so much....

... the pursuit....

from Late Nights on Air by Elizabeth Hay:

"Oh, Harry," she said, "I wish I were a different kind of person."

He took off his glasses with one hand, a gesture she loved, and studied her. He was exposing himself to her gaze even as he was seeing her with his own eyes.

What kind of person, he wanted to know.

"Someone," she said slowly, "who truly loves life."

He was still looking at her, still cradling his glasses in his left hand. He said, "You're the kind of person who never stops trying."

***********************

i don't know, in some ways, i think that the person always trying has it better off.

... a lesson in radio...

in my last semester of university i took an independent study course in radio editing. i did it with a friend, and we had a professor, Brian Morel. brian was a tenured professor without a track. the university had slowly cut off his courses as they transitioned from a hands-on to a theoretical approach to Cultural Studies, an already quirky and tiny faculty in a school putting its dollars into Scientific Research.

Brian was the crazy uncle left to quietly amuse himself. officially, he was responsible for the summer arts programme and tiny symposiums hosted by the department. but mostly he just hung around the cultural studies building, acting as unofficial caretaker, affable host and occasional mentor to the wackiest of grad students. The buiilding itself was a saggy townhome that teetered precariously on the steepest part of Peel Street. There was a screening room on the first floor (the only part of the building still used for any form of actual teaching), a few offices on the second floor for associate proffesors not valued enough for a space on the campus proper, and on the third was Brians lair. his office, playground and kingdom.

this is where i took perhaps the most applicable and useless course of my post-secondary education.

For the sake of clarity i would like to say upfront that i have never used the fine skill of splicing tape i learned on that third floor... and the lessons on delivery certainly didnt help me out during my audition as an audio book narrator for the CNIB. but Brian taught me how to enjoy yourself in a professional situation that is... shall we say, less than a balls-out marathon of tasks and deadlines.

Brian knew that two young graduates of a cultural theory degree in the new millenium had little need for the skills he excelled in. the antiquated processes of the CBC in the 70s, the reel to reel editing and radio documentary. but those lessons were a background to our true education. Above all else Brian stressed finding fun and lightheartedness in your daily work, curiousity and passionate engagement with whatever the task at hand.

one day my friend and i found ourselves literally pawing through a box of dress up clothes, making fun on the third floor, to fill time and engage in the play of radio drama. i learned the number one rule of interviews - to ask the next question, always ask - during long afternoon talks with him in his office, learning about his crazy life, seeing his photographs, listening to gossip about other professors.

i use those skills all the time, every day. ask any graduate with an arts degree. no one cares what you know or think about McLuhan. and the ability to reason your way through the most difficult of subjective hypotheses in 50 pages apperently does not prove that you can run the department. things become cliche because they are so often thecase, you simply must pay your dues. as a result you will spend a lot of years with tasks too simple and a lot of time on your hands. This is a simple fact, but not necessarily to your detriment, as brian was to teach us. reaching the other end of the spectrum, he was in his twilight years, constantly beating back his retirement in perhaps the one job that cant make him go away. he loved working, no matter how ridiculous he looked to the rest of us. and he taught me how to love my work, no matter what it happens to be.

he taught me that the best thing you can do is be curious.... about your job, your company, the processes and people involved in what you do. you need to make a life for yourself in your job. not make a job your life mind you, but the exact opposite.

Learn, whatever you can.... and care about what that means. make sure you have a few laughs, enjoy what you are doing every day. even if it wastes a little time and indulges the most childish of impulses. as long as you are engaged and aware of your function - your responsibilities, the fun can come in the spaces where there is room for it.

you probably don't think this was a skill that could be applied, or at least, not a learned skill. but Brian taught me about finding your niche in the world, a world that doesnt always make room for you to shine in all your capable glory. He was waiting for his moment, and finding value in the time he had and the space it afforded him to indulge his curiousity, his need to learn about and experience life. the opportunity it afforded him to stretch himself, to enjoy himself while remaining responsible and finding worth in the work he did do, the few places where he retained his value to the bureaucratic machine that ran the University.

he was dead serious about his work, but he also loved his life.

mmmm...... bacon......

I love bacon... apparently so does the rest of the world... as it has prevailed despite its health risks and supine beginning...

As a jew, I am not really supposed to like bacon, or even know whether i dislike it or not, as its cloven hooves makes it forbidden. But I love all things bacon...

However, even the most kosher of jews could enjoy this:

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=43285042

... yup... thats just about exactly it...

A Fraction of the Whole by Steve Toltz:

"'Let's do it," Bruno said, and immediately my stomach tightened. Why? A strange physical reaction was going on inside me. As soon as my idea was embraced, I no longer liked it. It now seemed to be a stupid idea, really awful. I liked it much better when it was in my head all alone. Now that it was going out in the world, I would be responsible for something that I no longer had any control of.

This was my first of a lifetime of battles with ideas: the battle of which ones to air and which to bury, burn, destroy"

I so totally get that... I have been losing that battle for years now.

Urban Adventurist: Freight Train, Each CAr Looks the Same

I was so so close to not walking at all today. But I really wanted to test out the new app I downloaded on my Android... Plus I have a coat so warm it would make a Yeti jealous... and I needed to do something today, it was gorgeous and sunny out.

The route was a little bit of a mash up of the

high park and junction routes I have been doing recently. Perfect test for MyTracks. Below is the result of

my wanderings, and the testament to the marker setting on the GPS tracking system. It may have started military, but like every other technology worth its stars and stripes, its now suited to rambling and pointless thoughts and observations. Long live web 2.0

View Freight Train... Each Car Look The Same in a larger map

If you are that bored, you can click through on the markers to see the inanities noted in each spot along the journey...

I remember in the comic books I read as a kid, a million double digests filled with archie and jugheads hijinx, there was this one thing they would used to do. Its such a faint memorie i almost feel like I am making it up. But I remember they would have these pages that would be just one panel - an aerial view of a room or neighbourhood - and there would be a dotted line following the path of mischief and destruction that L'il Jinx or the family circus kids or whoever would beat through the world. I feel like MyTracks is the modern version of that....

I love it for the same reason I love the stitched digital photographic works of Alain Paiement, like this one below:

Parages (pane mundial)
Lambada C-Print Mounted on Diabond
48"x83"
2004

Just makes me wish for the ten millionth time that I was artistic, and not just creative.

Creative - Artistic = eccentric

(by the way, theres a marker titled "Rods of steel" that referred to a picture that for some reason didnt show up.... its below... imagine the gams a girl would have living in any of those houses!)

... how much do i want this...

.... this may even force me to break my NO DECALS rule....

especially since my laptop is starting to look like shit....

Urban Adventurist: The Junction

The Junction is the Bermuda triangle of Toronto. Everyone has heard of it, not many have been there. The truth is, most people have no idea exactly where it is. And once you go there, there is no coming back. People disappear into the Junction, never to be seen from again. It was armed with only this knowledge that I left for my adventure.

(Ed Note*** This is in no way meant to be any sort of a travel guide. It chronicles the journey from my house to this place, and includes anything of interest I see along the way. If you were planning to use this to plan your day trip.... well... don't do that. Not unless you were planning on leaving from and returning to my house)View Urban Adventurist: The Junction in a larger mapI got off to a little bit of a rough start, heading straight north from my house and ending up in a little bit of a sketchy neighbourhood just north and east of Bloor and Dufferin. Urban Adventures need to happen in a place you feel safe getting lost and wandering around in. When you have your phone out and 9-1 dialed (finger hovering over the last 1), you know you have to find a new street to walk on.

But I quickly got my groove back by hopping onto Wallace heading west. 2 minutes later I stumbled upon the

watertower at the corner of Ward and Wallace. It doesn't look like much. But any local tech geek worth his facebook status knows that this abandoned building is the home to the new office of Ubisoft. Its pretty cool that they found a space this big in a building that has some history behind it. No

t sure what it was in its heyday, but it brings a very industrial age to mind. Which is funny, because I guess animators and game designers are just the factory workers of the new millenium. You need a TONNE of them to get out any mass of product, performing repetitive and highly specialized craft skills.

These guys just get more than minimum wage, and have drum sets and pool tables in the break room.

This office is going to go a loooong way to bringing more peeps into this hood, and lending some cache and importance to the drive to name this area. You can check out the issue and discussion thus far at fuzzyboundaries.ca

After Ubisoft I really feel into the swing. Its fun to come to a corner and make a last minute decision on your direction. If you sort of blank out and follow your nose you stumble on some great stuff. Next on my list was Yasi's Place. I had been there once before with a friend I love and havent seen in FOREVER, but never quite new where i was. Now I know, its the corner of Wallace and Campbel. And its just about the cutest thing ever. The menu is stellar (and vegetarian friendly, for those of you who tend to the herbivoric) and it just s

eems like a great place to cuddle up with a book on a bleak day.

That was not, however, on my agenda, so I trundled on along Wallace, reaching the end and the greatest pedestrian bridge i have discovered in Toronto in all my 28-some-odd years. Apparently it has been there s

ince at least 1932, as this picture shows. Which is very cool. I really dig that about these walks, and Toronto in general. I am always able to unearth some history. Don't get me wrong, I know I am no archaeological excavator. But stuff like this, and the water tower at Ward reminds me that there was a time BEFORE, stories and people that are all but forgotten in the new world of neighbourhoods we think we are discovering for the first time. I mean, we all talk about how we are "discovering" or "introducing" Leslieville, or The Junction or whatever. But its been around forever.

Anyway, up and over I went, and saw a bit of the Junctions greenery from overhead right before I plunged back into it.

The next twenty or thirty minutes was really just pointless wandering and real estate lusting. I have finally reached a point in my life where people are actually acquiring property. Its weird, to have friends that OWN houses... I am so so so far away from it. but still, it makes me look, and lust, at houses. H

ouses with big windows, houses with too many stairs to the front door, houses with driveways, houses with porches, and balconies, and turrets and additions.... By the time the bank will trust me enough with a mortgage (and it will be awhiiiiiiiiile) I will be ready to go.

I think I need to live near a park. I grew up a block away from one, and I loved it. And I want my (future and entirely hypothetical) kids to have one. The one in this neighbourhood is pretty cool. Baird Park is your typical, mid-city space, open with a playground and a wading pool. But it also happens to be the home to the West Toronto Lawn Bowling League, which is pretty fucking awesome. There was one in the park near my house as a kid. I never played. But always associate the sport with childhood. Maybe I will try it out this ummer. I think its like bocci ball.... but I have to get together some whites.

From there I was pretty much officially in The Junction proper, signified by the development of any historic space into lofts. I counted 5 churches in a 2 block radius around Anette and High Park Rd, 3 were being condo-fied.

And when I reached the main drag at Dundas I found many many businesses accomodating the furnishing of these new lofts by young hipsters in the style to which they have become accustomed (and will demand, cheap)

Mjolk (there is an umlaut supposed to be in there somewhere) is a kickin' design shop at 2959 Dundas St W. It is way out of price range (signifying its quality) but has stuff I would trade my left arm for (signifying my taste). Its only been open since December, but the kids are discovering it fast. The place was packed. I went in thinking i found the hot Junction bar... turns out, it was just shopping day on Dundas.

Smash has been around a little longer, I am told. But its definitely not tired or 'done' yet. Smash is a store and gallery that specializes in salvage and restoration of kooky and kitsch. They were clsoing up when I was walking by. But if you get there soon, you will be able to see the nose print i left from smooshing my face up against the glass to peer inside at themounds of treasures stacked to the ceiling. A quick run across the street will show you a twin set of smudgy nose prints as the stores "warehouse" is a glass front across the way. Its like eye candy treasure for a design freak like yours truly, and definitely worth the trip to the Junction even to stare through the windows at.

The last place on the journey, before officially heading for home was for a much needed caffeine jolt. And if I was judging a neighbourhood by its coffee shops alone. The Junction would be worth its weight in fair trade Colombian. My cuppa came from Cool Hand of A Girl, a cute shop that is bare cept for the things it needs to deliver sweet sweet caffeine rushes to my bloodstream.

So thats it, my day in the Junction. Well, if you take a look at the map you will see I doubled back and around a bit before heading for home. This was completely unintentional... Its just I had absolutely no idea what direction I was headed in, until I happened upon the West Toronto Lawn Bowling clubhouse, from the exact same direction I had encountered it the first time.

I have a theory on this, because I am generally REALLY REALLY REALLY good with direction.... like I NEVER get lost. But when Dundas curves up the entire grid pattern that Toronto is built on swivels around. Everything going south is now west, everything east is north... its discombobulating.

But maybe thats why, when people go into The Junction, they so rarely come out again....