The Perfect Cassette

I sold my Explorer the other day and while cleaning it out found an old cassette tape I had made for a girlfriend something like 12 years ago (1994?).
Yes, for many years I was obsessed with creating the perfect mix tape, just like the guy in High Fidelity. It was an art that I took very seriously, perhaps a little too seriously.
Besides trying to manage recording levels, I'd be fixated on choosing just the right song order. The opening song was crucial, it had to be engaging but couldn't give away too much. From there, the songs had to progressively build until really letting loose around track 3 or 4. But, I had to be careful not to completely blow my whole wad so early. The tape still had to ebb and flow cohesively, involving just the right combination of bands that no one had ever heard before (to show how cool I was) along with more familiar songs (to show I wasn't a total music snob).
The cassette tape format, being two sided, provided additional options for creativity. Side one could consist primarily of quieter "singer/songwriter" or "emo" tracks, while side two would be chockablock full of "ear bleeders". Or, once the first side was completed, the challenge would be to mimic the same progression of music on the second side, repeating the rise and fall of the songs and creating the same changes in emotion, only doing it even better.
The final song on each side was arguably as important as the opening track. It had to be an epic, preferably one of those long songs that started very softly and passed through a series of peaks and valleys before finally blowing the speakers off your stereo. Either that, or it would be a long slow dirge that would dig down to your soul, leaving you hopelessly exposed by the time the tape machine clicked off.
So, I spent the other night listening to that tape for the first time in at least 10 years. What a treat, and what a walk down a musical memory lane! Ultra Vivid Scene, Pavement (Cut Your Hair), Sebadoh (Brand New Love), The Fluid (Tip Top Toy), Low Pop Suicide, The Big F, Blind Melon, The Pixies, New Order, firehose (Losers, Boozers and Heroes), etc, etc, etc. But even more so, it brought back a connection to that passion for pop music that drove so many of us back then, and still drives a few of us today.
Let's see now, I'm planning to attend four concerts in local clubs in the next two weeks. I'd say the passion's still there...

Which East is Better? The Answer Lies Somewhere in the Middle.

On two different occasions while in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, I was posed with the question “Do you find much difference between Riyadh and Dubai?” In both instances, before I had a chance to respond, the asker supplied me with his answer “Riyadh is just the same, isn’t it?” Now, I’m not sure who they were trying to convince, themselves or me, but I did my best to squirm out of replying without divulging my true feelings, which would have come across something like “What, are you nuts?!?”

Not that there aren’t some similarities between the two cities. Both are really hot and dusty, which I suppose one expects from the desert, and since both are located in the Middle East, there are lots of Arabs, and thus lots of guys who are obsessed with facial hair who wear white robes and Arabian style headgear. Also, driving in the two cities is pretty well the same, often resembling camel races, but with Hummers and the like all jockeying for position while ignoring the lines on, and rules of, the road.

Of course, the Middle East wouldn’t be the Middle East without prayer, and in both locales one can hear that unmistakable wail broadcast all over the city on huge loudspeakers at least 5 times a day, calling the faithful to face Mecca and pray. However, here’s where the difference between the two cities starts to surface. It’s a subtle difference, but noticeable to anyone who’s paying attention. The prayers are always respectful and reverent, for these are a deeply religious people. Yet, I swear in Dubai I heard them slip in some soccer scores at the end. Honest, I swear it went something like:
“God is great,
All praise be to Allah!
Dubai 3, Abu Dhabi no score...”

This is where the two cities diverge. As I see it, it all hinges on spirit – Dubai’s got it, Riyadh could only be so lucky.

When looking for something to do in Riyadh, besides work, about all my associates could suggest was eating and shopping. Well, Dubai also has eating and shopping and, oh yeah, did I mention that one of the shopping malls has a full sized, indoor ski hill? With real snow?

Or how about special events? In Riyadh, well, there are none. Meanwhile, the day I arrived in Dubai was opening day of the Dubai Men’s Tennis Championships. So, my spare time in Riyadh was spent holed up in my hotel room doing work on my computer, while my spare time in Dubai was spent swilling beer, sitting in the sun and watching the likes of Roger Federer.

Architecturally, Riyadh has some interesting buildings, but overall, it’s pretty well an underdeveloped sandbox. On the other hand, Dubai is an out of control construction nightmare on a scale the world has never seen. It’s like ten separate Manhattans, all under construction at the same time, with every building over 100 stories tall. Even more outrageous is that several of these Manhattans are being created at sea, on man-made islands fabricated in the shape of palm trees, or the earth! Dubai is like Vegas, only orders of magnitude more extravagant, and without all the people from Kansas.

It’s obviously not a lack of money in Saudi Arabia. Saudi Airlines apparently flies nothing smaller than a 777. On both of their flights that I took, the plane was almost ¾ empty, yet they flew the behemoth anyway. (Funny, they also sat everyone at the very back of the plane. As soon as the doors were closed, I led a charge to the free rows up towards the front.) There is certainly no shortage of money in that nation.

No, what Riyadh’s missing is, like I said, spirit. Or should I have said spirits? Alcohol is most certainly a missing link in Saudi Arabia. It’s the only way to explain all the super models in Dubai. I mean, the place is crawling with them - Amazon beauties, dressed to the hilt, strolling around talking about Monaco, Versace and Formula One drivers. It’s absolutely unbelievable. The most beautiful women in the world are in Dubai, and they’re all in bikinis…

OK, the last bit isn’t entirely accurate, but I’m trying to make a point, and it’s not just that when I drink I see super models in bikinis, or that alcohol is the reason there are women in public in Dubai. It’s just that the equivalent to super models in Saudi Arabia, or females for that matter, simply doesn’t exist. In fact, my experience in Riyadh was one of “women, what women?” The lack of women in Saudi Arabia is more striking than the presence of all the Riviera trash in Dubai. A woman’s place in Saudi life is certainly not a public one. Women simply aren’t around. I gave a presentation to over 60 people from the Ministry of Water and Electricity in Riyadh. There wasn’t a woman in the audience. Moreover, there wasn’t a woman in the entire building.
Women in Saudi Arabia lead an entirely private life. If in public, they are dressed literally from head to toe in black. No wonder you never see them. It’s 45 degrees Celsius in the shade in the Middle East. Who in their right mind would go out of the way to bake themselves to a crisp?

Now, having read the Darwin Awards from the last few years, I think the answer to that question is undoubtedly “a man”. But a woman subject herself to such undo harm? Not a chance. As a result, Saudi Arabian women are left to do their own thing, away from the prying eyes of strangers or men. I asked my male associates where the women were, or what the women do, and their reply was something to the effect of “We don’t really know, but we’re sure they are really enjoying themselves, and when we come home, they’re usually there.”

Thus, I have developed this whole secret society theory of a Freemason type alliance amongst Saudi women. I really have nothing else to go on. I was never able to talk to one to learn otherwise. But, judging from their apparent fondness for gold, I wouldn’t be surprised if some sort of alchemy is realized in the kitchens of Saudi Arabia. Remember, you heard it here first.

So which is better, the ultra-religious repression exemplified by Riyadh, or the out of control commercialism of Dubai? My guess is it’s some ideal yet probably unattainable middle ground.

Still, an event occurred on my last day in Dubai that suggests perhaps the unchecked growth option isn’t sustainable. Indeed, February 28 was the first time the construction workers in Dubai, all of them foreigners, went on strike. It wasn’t every one, but it was enough to shut down a highway and disrupt business in the city for the better part of a day. Why are they acting in this manner? They work six days a week in incredible heat, live in camps with conditions that rival those experienced by some POW’s, and they earn 600dh per month. To put that in perspective, my hotel room my first night in Dubai cost 770dh, for one night. These guys are building the foundations by which many people are making huge fortunes, and their rewards are on a par with slave labor.

But hey, far be it from me to piss on Dubai’s parade. It’s an incredibly amazing spectacle that may very well support the Emirates long after the oil money has dried up. And who knows, maybe by then the Saudi women will have perfected their magic, and the two countries will approach the happy medium I spoke of earlier? It could happen, couldn’t it?

Just So You Don't Think This Is All Play And No Work

Yep, there it is, the depressing little tunnel where we spent the better part of the last two weeks. Pretty glamorous, huh? I apparently missed the day when the more notable winners from the film festival in Cannes dropped by, but not to worry. There's so much glitz and high society in my line of work that it's nice to occasionally take a break from it. We get to do more science that way.

So there you have it. A train tunnel dug through a mountain side in the 1800's, long since abandoned, is now a center for scientific research. In fact, this little tunnel in the south near Montpellier is being used to confirm data from a large Underground Nuclear Repository Research Facility in the east of France. I have worked at both sites and must admit that even though the large site in the east is much more interesting from a scientific standpoint, this site is much closer to Montpellier, so it wins. (Still don't get it about Montpellier? I'm telling you, just go there!)

Each day in the tunnel, our group of merry Frenchmen (and me - not so merry, not so French) would go about installing equipment deep into the ground. It's a rather unique site, because the rock is very similar to the rock where the French Nuclear Agency is proposing to store spent fuel (radioactive waste) deep in the ground. Since this tunnel was constructed well over a hundred years ago, and it goes through the heart of a mountain, it provides an unparalleled opportunity to study the long term effects of excavations on this geologic material at great depths. This work will have a direct influence on the regulatory acceptance of the proposed site in the east of France.

And so, our crew does its best to shake off the influence of the ample red wine from the previous evening, and focus on the importance of the task at hand. You can tell from the picture, by how we're all bent over a table (click on the picture to enlarge, you'll see), that we're having a little trouble focusing on this particular day. Ce n'est pas une problem, however, as there will most certainly be more wine each and every evening, ensuring that we will maintain a sort of equilibrium that will enable us to be, if nothing else, consistent. It will also ensure that my "16 Rule" remains a distant memory until I return to a land where we can't afford to have a beautiful bottle of red on the table each lunch and dinner.

I Want To Live In Montpellier

I want to live in Montpellier.
If you've been there, you know what I'm talking about.
If you haven't, go.

(Feb 12)

Driving Me Crazy in Pau

Famous for its fetes and bullfights, Pau exudes a Spanish flavor unique to France. It boasts an enviable location near the Spanish border, with equally short travel distances to beaches in the west, and mountains to the east. It's a veritable playground for the outdoor enthusiast, and to think if it weren't for my company's addiction to QHSE (Quality Health Safety and Environment for those of you not familiar with useless corporate acronyms) policies, I would never have had the opportunity to stroll along Pau's expansive "Boulevard des Pyrenees".

You see, before I can rent a car in a foreign country, the makers of draconian policies who inhabit our QHSE department feel it necessary for me to take a driving test. A test in Canada will not suffice, so before I can begin my work in France, they insist that I pass a driving exam in France - not just any exam, but one carried out by an internal, company trained examiner.
Our upcoming job is located in a remote area in the south of France near Montpellier, accessible only by car. Therefore, in order to carry out my job, I need to rent a car. Before I can rent the car, I have to find the nearest company driver training center, and prove to them that I know what side of the road to drive on, how to survive in roundabouts, and that red means stop. Lucky for me, that training center happens to be in Pau.

Arriving in Pau a day prior to the test provided me with a wonderful opportunity to stroll the streets of the old town, which is perched high on a bluff above the Gave de Pau River. The Boulevard des Pyrenees spans the length of the bluff, from the elegant Chateau de Pau (pictured below) to the Palais Beaumont (which cleverly contains the local casino, without spoiling the skyline). Along the boulevard are numerous cafes and restaurants. On sunny days, such as the day I was fortunate enough to be there, the cafes set out beach chairs to lure in the pedestrians for a glass of Jurancon, a local white wine that can be enjoyed sweet or dry. Needless to say, I spent the afternoon doing an in-depth study into which was superior. With a glow on my face and a smile in my belly, I headed to the hotel well after dark to prepare for my driving exam.

Corporate bureaucracy - it can drive you crazy, but hey, you can occasionally steer it in a direction you want to go.

(Feb 4, 2007)

French Training

Ah the SNCF (French Rail Service). So reliable you can set your watch by it. I’m currently on the TGV (Bullet Train) from Montpellier to Paris. A ride on one of these trains is worth the airfare to France alone. They literally fly along the countryside at a modest 300 km/h, yet they’re so smooth you’d hardly know you were moving (save for the blur of countryside out your window). And the facilities are first class; lots of legroom, comfortable seats that recline, a good sized table and, of course, a restaurant/ bar car.

Several years ago I rented a car in Paris and was pleasantly surprised when I got to the lot and saw a brand new BMW in my space. I hit the “peage” (high speed motorway) and was soon barreling down the road with the pedal to the metal, quite confident that I was the fastest human on the planet. My confidence was short lived. Not far out of Paris the motorway paralleled some train tracks. That was my first real encounter with the TGV, and it was a brief one. The train passed me so quickly I may as well have been moving backwards. As it disappeared into the distance ahead of me, I eased off on the gas and slowed to the posted speed limit of 130 km/h. No point in getting a speeding ticket for going backwards, I surmised.

Fast rail service is now common throughout Europe, everywhere except the British Isles, that is. This is no more obvious than on the “Eurostar”, high speed rail service between Paris and London through the “chunnel”. If traveling to the UK, the journey begins with a sprint to the English Channel that’s over before the taste of café et croissant has left your mouth. As the train plunges into the darkness of the chunnel, it slows slightly due to the grade of the tracks. The welcome sight of daylight is about the only positive aspect of arriving in England by rail. Your first thought is that the train must already be arriving in London, as it is proceeding at a pathetic crawl. Not only that, but your drink is spilling all over the table in front of you. The tracks in Britain are so old that the trains bounce around on them, and therefore are unable to reach a reasonable traveling speed. As a result, the entire UK leg of the Eurostar is completed at an embarrassingly archaic rate.

(Feb. 14, 2007)

Viva La France! (or, The 16 Rule Goes To Hell)

(Feb 5, 2007)
Greetings from France!
For the next month or so I’ll be on a business trip in France and the Middle East.
Business travel is both a blessing and a curse. It’s wonderful to be able to get around and see the world, but at the same time, your time is not your own, and your days tend to be filled with meetings, trains and airports. When the trip is over, staid hotels and bored service industry workers dominate your memories…
Feeling sorry for me yet? I didn’t think so.
However, there is one other negative aspect of this type of travel to which I’m sure you can relate - YOU CAN”T BRING ANYONE WITH YOU! This truly is a shame because there are sights and experiences worth sharing.
This is where the Digglings come into play. It's as close as I can come to bringing YOU with me. For the next few weeks I’ll be updating the blog as often as possible with pictures, stories and thoughts from France, Saudi Arabia and Dubai. So, buckle up and come along!
(You'll notice that some of the blog dates don't match my journal entry dates. All I can say about that is good luck finding an Internet connection in rural France. Oh yeah, and there's that bit about actually having to work, as well...)

The Tow Truck Never Comes

“Not to worry”, my buddy kept insisting. “The tow truck will be here in half an hour.”
I wasn’t so convinced.
“Seen that movie before”, I replied. “The tow truck never comes…”

We were cold and worn out, having already spent two hours in a futile attempt to dig our truck out of a snow filled ditch – using an ice scraper for a shovel. The small sign nailed to a tree overhead read 22 ¾ miles, serving as a grim reminder of just how far we had ventured up this logging road. The last rays of sunshine were long gone from the surrounding mountains. We had no other option. It was going to be a long, cold walk back to civilization. The similarities to a Jack London story were not lost on us.

It’s amazing how quickly even the simplest of plans can change. Consider, for instance, the casual afternoon of steelhead fishing that my buddy Dustin and I had planned for this past weekend. We had forgone our usual routine of getting on the river at first light for a much more civilized first cast at 1 PM. Whereas a normal day of steelheading starts with a 4 AM wake-up call and bad take-away coffee for the drive in the dark, this day was more about spending a few relaxing hours away from the city. Fish or no fish, we were going to be happy just being in the wilderness, surrounded by nothing but eagles, forests and mountains.

The day seemed ideal for such a plan. The weather forecast had called for rain, but as we stepped out of the truck at the crack of 1 we were greeted with brilliant sunshine that warmed the air pleasantly. We took a couple of hours to work through one of our favorite runs. No fish, but already the city and it’s frantic pace seemed far behind us.

It was a little too early to call it a day, so we decided to drive upstream and try a spot where Dustin had landed a large steelhead the previous spring. There was quite a lot of snow in the area, but the logging road that follows the river had been plowed, so we stored our gear in the back of the pick-up and headed upstream. We soon discovered that the snowplow had only cleared the road as far as a small hydroelectric facility, and our spot was another several miles further. Someone else had carried on up the snow-covered road from that point, as indicated by relatively fresh tire tracks, so we decided to follow suit.

We hadn’t gone very far before we realized that we had probably made a mistake. Our tires were restricted to the ruts left by the previous vehicle while the differential dragged through the snow. As we progressed, we saw snowmobile tracks in the snow next to the truck. Note to self for future reference: “If you see snowmobile tracks in the snow where a road should be, don’t drive down the road.” We decided to press on to where the other guy had turned around, and attempt to do the same.

About 2 ½ miles further we came across the spot. It looked dodgy, but doable. Dustin turned the wheel and followed the tracks to the right. We inched forward and had just put the vehicle into reverse when we felt the front end drop. That’s never a good sign. We piled out of the truck and stared in dismay at our front end, firmly settled down into a ditch. I pulled out my cell phone and wasn’t surprised to see the “no service” message. Still, we were somehow convinced that with just a little effort, we’d succeed in digging ourselves out and we’d be on our way.

There’s a classic Simpsons episode where Bart and Homer chase a roast pig in vain through the streets of Springfield. As the situation becomes increasingly futile, Homer keeps insisting, “It’ll still be OK!” Even as the pig blasts through the air over the nuclear power plant, Homer is convinced they’ll get it back. Dustin and I shared in Homer’s optimism, but unfortunately we were likewise blinded by it. Our digging efforts seemed to only bury the truck even further. The harder we worked, the more entrenched the truck became.

At one point a group of guys came by on snowmobiles and offered to call us a tow truck once they got to an area that had cell phone coverage. Several hours later, exhausted from digging and pushing, we sat back and pondered the likelihood of the tow truck arriving. Dustin seemed confident that it would only be a matter of time. I wasn’t so convinced, and felt it was time to start hiking out. Darkness had pretty well set in, and we were a long way from another human being.

This is the part of the story where my ever-prepared father will shake his head and wonder out loud “Will Dave ever learn?” My Dad is notorious for having every imaginable piece of equipment you could possibly need in his backpack. We’d go on hunting trips and I swear he could have built a small warming hut, complete with hot tub, out of items from that pack. His buddies and I would often rib him, but we were always thankful when he’d supply us with some extra gloves or spare batteries.

Well, Dad, not only was I without batteries last weekend, I didn’t even have a flashlight. Perhaps if you had made me suffer more when I forgot things, maybe then I would have heeded your warnings?

We stumbled almost 5 miles in the dark before we reached the first ranch house.

All I can say about the man who lives in that house is that he is a SAINT. He drove two perfect strangers all the way back up the valley to our truck, and pulled us out. It was one big hairy deal too, as the roads and snow had frozen and conditions were treacherous. Even so, he stuck with it until we were out of the ditch and back on paved road. He wouldn’t accept a penny from us for his troubles, either, stating that people had done similar for him and “whatever comes around goes around”. Needless to say, as we drove back to town and came across another fellow struggling to push his truck out of a snow bank, we didn’t hesitate to stop and lend a hand.

Oh yeah, and about the tow truck? It never came.

The Suns Also Rise

Had a great time last night in Phoenix. The hi lite was getting a chance to attend a Phoenix Suns game against the Minnesota Timberwolves. Still, one small drawback - I was looking so forward to seeing Kevin Garnett take on the Suns, but it turns out he had been ejected from a game the night before for throwing a punch, and suspended for one game. MY GAME! The Timberwolves point guard was suspended too, so they had a very short bench and a weak team. The result? The Suns crushed them without even blinking. They were up by 35 at the beginning of the 4th!
We bailed early to watch the end of the football game. Saw New England go up by a field goal, then watched in horror as Indy marched back down the field...

...and speaking of horror:
While in Phoenix yesterday - it snowed.
Arrived in San Antonio this AM - it was 42F.
Am planning to stay in my room tonight, cranking up the heat, and watching Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth". Seems kinda ironic that I'm here for a conference related to global warming!

Don't look now, you've been "Plutoed"!

It was only a matter of time, right? Read on:
In its 17th annual words of the year vote, the American Dialect Society voted “plutoed” as the word of the year, in a run-off against climate canary. To pluto is to demote or devalue someone or something, as happened to the former planet Pluto when the General Assembly of the International Astronomical Union decided Pluto no longer met its definition of a planet.

There were actually a lot of great entries in this year's contest. Read the whole rundown here, including winners from past years: http://www.americandialect.org/Word-of-the-Year_2006.pdf

2006 vs 2005?

It was recently brought to my attention that I had erred in my "Top Ten Albums" list for 2006. Admittedly, it wasn't a top ten list at all because I had insisted on including eleven titles. However, it turns out that it was in fact a top ten list after all.
Last night a DJ pal of mine noted that he had been playing the "Elbow" disc on heavy rotation about this time last year. I checked their web site, and sure enough, Elbow's "Leaders of the Free World" came out in 2005. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because even though I have to retract the album from the list, I can plug their 2004 release "A Cast of Thousands" instead. For me, "A Cast of Thousands" is their best release to date, and a must have for any music fan.
Thus, all is right again in the world - the list becomes a real Top Ten, and I get to plug one of my favorite albums.
For those of you who missed it, here's the (now updated) list:
Viva Voce - Get Yr Blood Sucked Out (Barsuk)
The Black Angels - Passover (Light In the Attic)
Silversun Pickups - Carnavas (Dangerbird)
Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood (Anti-)
Yo La Tengo - I am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador)
Beck - The Information (Interscope)
Wolfmother - Wolfmother (Modular/Interscope)
Earl Greyhound - Soft Targets (Some)
Kelley Stoltz - Below the Branches (Sub Pop)
The Raconteurs - Broken Boy Soldiers (V2)

Interactive Christmas Greeting

Hello There, and Best of the Season to you!

In this extremely impersonal age, I'm adding an exclamation point to it all by using this blog entry to pass on my not-so-personal Christmas greetings.

So, first off, please click on the following link to get in the mood, er, I mean spirit. (You've heard of Bad Santa, how about Even Worse Elf...?)
http://www.elfyourself.com/?userid=4a64b6527606ec5cd0c8b97G06121800
Isn't that absolutely enlightening? I'm sure you're now more than ready for whatever this season has in store for you. ("Thanks" to Judy R)

On with the greetings.
If you happen to be in Vancouver this December 23, please drop by for a little Festive Cheer at Dave's Christmas Eve Eve Celebration (CEEC). Not quite a party, not exactly an open house, just an opportunity to gather around, down a yuletide cocktail and wish you were going someplace warm for the holidays.

If you're unable to attend, and we will not be able to exchange Season's Greetings in person, then at least you have my "elf" doing my part for me!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!!
(If you're at all insulted by my using a greeting that has religious undertones, please, for the love of god [oops, did it again] - LIGHTEN UP!)

Dave's Top 10 Albums of 2006

I'm tired of people saying "There's no good new music out there today".
People who say that are just trying to cover for the fact that they are old. Now, don't get mad if you feel like I've categorized you, because there's a way to prove me wrong. Old has nothing to do with age. It is a frame of mind. People who can't be bothered to put forth an effort to discover new music should not go around saying that there isn't any good new stuff. It is a sign that they are lazy and, well, old.
So, in an effort to help you from feeling old this Christmas, I present to you my top 10 list of new albums for 2006. Feel free to use this list and name drop at your next Christmas party. You'll be amazed how young it makes you feel.
(2006 was an incredible year for music. Keeping the list down to ten albums was quite a chore. The following entries are in no particular order.)

Viva Voce - Get Yr Blood Sucked Out (Barsuk)
The Black Angels - Passover (Light In the Attic)
Silversun Pickups - Carnavas (Dangerbird)
Elbow - Leaders of the Free World (V2)
Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood (Anti-)
Yo La Tengo - I am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador)
Beck - The Information (Interscope)
Wolfmother - Wolfmother (Modular/Interscope)
Earl Greyhound - Soft Targets (Some)
Kelley Stoltz - Below the Branches (Sub Pop)
The Raconteurs - Broken Boy Soldiers (V2)

Now, to those of you who actually made it this far, congratulations, because I'm going to let you in on a little secret: This was not Dave's Top 10 list!
It was in fact Dave's Top 11 list. I simply couldn't delete any one album from the list. From Neko Case's haunting voice to Jack White's screechy vocals, from Elbow's understated brilliance to Wolfmother's full on wall of sound; the styles represented in these 11 albums are considerably varied, yet the quality is incomparable.

Merry Christmas Everybody! Happy listening.

WOLF-MU-THER

Went to see Wolfmother last night at the Commodore. The show was as expected - spectacular. They're a little more polished and perhaps a tad road weary since their show in Vancouver last year, but man those boys can play. The keyboards were mounted on a sort of giant slinky, so the bass/keyboard player could bend them all over the place, twirl them around and generally rock out while blasting out riffs that would make Deep Purple proud. Guitar, drums - it was all good. The crowd knew every word and sang along in excruciatingly bad falsettos. I haven't seen that many crowd surfers over a swirling mosh pit in quite some time. (New rule - only women are allowed to crowd surf.) And, as the show let out, you knew there would be traffic jams at all the bridges and tunnels heading out of town. Who knew there were that many ball caps and flannel shirts still in circulation?
The buddy I went with was a little "off" last night, as his wife had ordered a dog on-line and they picked it up yesterday. It's some tiny "Piramima" or something (I know I got that wrong, as Piramima is a wine from Australia, but it's something similar). It's your basic yappy lap dog, the sort of thing Paris Hilton used to carry around, but she's over it now. I guess the world's Paris wannabees are just catching up, and my buddy is suffering the consequences. Mind you, apparently all the ladies in Cafe Calabash were swooning as they walked by with it, so maybe there are some fringe benefits?

Disengagement?

In the wake of another bombing in Baghdad, this one claiming 144 lives, I felt it appropriate to draw your attention to the essay "The Logic of Disengagement" by Edward Luttwat, first published in the January/February edition of Foreign Policy. It is one of the best summaries I have read on the intricacies of the conflict in Iraq.
Interesting how this essay was published almost two years ago, yet it is more relevant today than ever. Perhaps not exactly Thanksgiving weekend fare, but then again, do we really need to carry on with our bellies full of turkey AND our heads in the sand?
http://www.nytimes.com/cfr/international/20050101faessay_v84n1_luttwak.html?_r=1&oref=slogin
(requires a free NY Times online membership)

Diggling Labels!

Hi All,
You'll notice a new feature here on the Digglings. I've added "labels" to all of the entries. Now you can search past entries by subject, instead of obscure (and often misleading) things like date or title.
Choose from such exciting topics as:
Fun - everything from jokes to cartoons
Go Outside - often humorous tales resulting from my fruitless attempts at extreme sports
Me - when I can't think of a category, I file it here
Politics - how can I resist? Politicians provide such an abundance of subject matter!
Rants - true, almost all my entries are rants. That's why it's often a second, or sub, category.
Religion - almost as entertaining as politics, and often inextricably intertwined...
Science - usually as in vs. religion, but sometimes just plane interesting stuff from the world around us
Travel - everyone's favorite pastime
Enjoy!

What Took You So Long, America?

Now that the dust has settled and the giddiness has subsided in the wake of this week's mid-term elections, can we talk? Because, there's one thing I just don't get. It's all fine and dandy that the American voters have finally awakened and exercised their ability to put in place some potential resistance to the Bush Administration's free rein. But, why wait until now? Did the voters have any new information this week that wasn't available two years ago when Bush was re-elected? Did some event occur to sway the vote? What's up America?

The foreign media claims that the people of America have finally started paying attention to the opinions of the rest of the world. I think they're kidding themselves. The average voter in the US doesn't think about much that's outside of US borders, let alone outside his or her daily commute. According to the US Office of Central Statistics, only 18% of Americans even have a passport! Nope, the rest of the world isn't on their radar screen, and I don't buy that any foreign opinion influenced this election. Americans didn't listen last time, and they weren't listening this time.

Others have suggested that the American people are reacting to being lied to by their government - WMDs and all that. Yet again, that's nothing that wasn't already being trumpeted as Bush was campaigning his second time around. The majority of the voting public seemed quite content to let the lies slide. The same goes for the suggestion that Americans are fed-up with a mismanaged war, or a war with corporate intent. The plan was flawed from the beginning, yet to the voters it didn't (and doesn't) seem to matter.

No, I believe that two years ago they still thought they could "win" the war (when they weren't cringing at the thought of two men kissing, that is). They didn't really have a clear vision of what "win" meant, but they figured that at least the US couldn't lose. Now, however, they realize they're not winning anything, and their troops are dropping like flies. Those troops who aren't dead are either returning home maimed, or are going bonkers. Four years of "stay the course" was somehow reasonable, but six years has finally pissed off the American public.

The most important fundamental that the Bush Administration seems to have misunderstood is that Americans don't just love their country, they love their people, too. They can only put up with seeing so many body bags returning home before they react. And react they have.

A Rummy's Life

Wow! The emails have been fast and furious in the wake of Rummy's step down/firing. I've heard opinions ranging from "hang him right next to Saddam", to "he was a victim of the administration". I don't agree with either of these extremes, and have enjoyed plenty o' banter over the last few days discussing where in the middle the truth lies.

The best summary I've read so far was posted in Slate this morning. You can read it here: http://www.slate.com/id/2153319/nav/tap1/ Thanks to Judy for passing it on.

One reoccurring theme we've been discussing since Rummy's announcement (or since 9/11 for that matter) is learning from history. The newly appointed Defense Secretary Robert Gates faces quite a task. Time will tell whether he ponders mistakes from the recent past as he moves America's military forward. Mind you, as a former head of the CIA and pal of Bush Sr., I'm sure we can count on him to stay the course.

Voting's a Bitch

While pedaling my way to work on a blistery wet morning here in Vancouver, my thoughts began to wander south – not way down south to the beaches of Mexico and Central America, but a little closer to home. It’s mid-term Election Day in the US of A, and by all accounts, it looks like the American political landscape is in for a bit of a change. The Democrats are expected to make significant gains in the over 500 races for house, senate and governor. Just how much of a change is, of course, yet to be seen.

Cycling provides ample opportunity for contemplation and reflection. Quite frankly, other than trying to avoid SUVs and their maniacal drivers, there’s really not much else to do when commuting by bicycle.

Today my thoughts drifted back to recent political conversations I’ve had with friends from the States. In similar fashion to the last presidential election, everyone seems quite passionate about the state of the country, regardless of their political leaning. People have strong opinions on Iraq, immigration, stem cell research, and a seeming endless number of other issues. Through it all, however, there remains one consistent thread – everyone wants change.

But, no matter how enjoyable the process of mentally repeating these discussions may be to me, and regardless of the varying opinions of the voters, the real question facing the nation is this: How much real change, if any, can be expected? If the Democrats somehow miraculously sweep the house and the senate, will things in the US change, even perceptibly? If the Republicans maintain their stranglehold on all levels of government, will the republican voters see the changes they are hoping for? After all the slander campaigns and all the promises, what can Americans, and the rest of the world, expect from the great US democratic political machine?

More of the same, of course! What else would you expect? We have history as our guide, and every indication suggests that whether there are donkeys or elephants at the helm, the ship ain’t turning around. It may veer slightly to port or starboard, but it will continue heading in precisely the same direction.

So, what are the voters who want real change to do? Perhaps a good start would be to get fed up with the two political parties currently claiming to offer “choice” to the American people. I think this option is best summed up by some design students in Georgetown who were recently witnessed by a pal of mine hustling t-shirts on the swanky corner of M and Wisconsin that read: Quit Bitching. Start a Revolution! It’s not a new idea, but it may just be a timely one.

Killer Clap?

Bono is at a U2 concert in Ireland when he asks the audience for some quiet.
Then in the silence, he starts to slowly clap his hands.
Holding the audience in total silence, he says into the microphone..."Every time I clap my hands, a child in Africa dies."
A voice from near the front of the audience pierces the silence..."Fookin stop doing it then!"