Platform 327

Y’know there are times when I miss my old Second Life zine. Hell, it was a damn good idea for a magazine. I’m sure one day that someone with a better head for business or more connections in the world of government grants that I’ve got will be able to make a go of something exactly like what I had. I just got caught up in the cycle of having no time to do it when I had the money, and no money when I had the time.

The reason I’m pining on it now is because of something I found on Ye Olde Internete today. Doing a random search on myself, I found this review of Second Life that I never knew existed:

Second Life- issues 1-3- Free- second-life@telus.net- David J. Widmann, 1022 Bloor Street West, Unit 35, Toronto, Ontario, M6H 1M2

Ah, if there’s one thing I love about Toronto, it’s the fact that the city harbours an absolute plethora of second hand book stores, record stores, clothing stores, you name it. Any trip I take to this great city MUST include some scouring of said shops. So, needless to say, I was absolutely floored when I heard about “Second Life”. This is a zine dedicated to people like me, those of us who could spend hours upon hours sifting through thrift stores, looking for that elusive treasure. This zine is great…it’s loaded with articles on topics such as how to keep your collection of vintage vinyl sounding great, reviews of funky boutiques, reviews on goods that were found in various second hand shops (I can think of someone else who likes to do this….), notes on what to look for when buying a used air conditioner, and so much more. I absolutely love this zine, and chances are if you are also a flea market fanatic, you’ll love it too!

The review is from this site that’s got a whole lot of other zine reviews on it if you’re into that sort of thing.

It’s too bad I gave up the mailbox and email address that I used for the mag. It’d be interesting to see what little bits of stuff might still be coming to the zine. While I still had the mailbox, I was always getting other people’s zines, postcards and bits of art in trade for copies of Second Life. It was fun.

I’ve been reminded by loyal reader Champy that it is time for another RANDOM PHOTO FRIDAY!  Since he’s taken such an interest in this feature, I’ve decided to post a picture of Champy in his natural habitat.

Enjoy.

“Chase Crash Victim Remembered As ‘Good Boy’”

Last I checked, “good boys” didn’t drive cars with stolen plates and take off when they saw cops, smashing into other drivers in the process. But hey, maybe I’m just out of touch.

And buddy finds out the hard way that there’s no “reset” button in real life.  At least the real victim of this crash is going to be okay.

I completely forgot to post a Random Photo Friday post today.  But I have to put something up in the name of content.  In that spirit, I give you the Government of Ontario’s Bear Density Map.

What’s your risk of running into a crazed, angry, and probably hungry bear?  Use this handy map to find out, and Be Bear Wise!

I’ve been doing some figuring on my ridiculously-high-interest loan recently and have come up with some… interesting figures.

If I add $75 a month to my payments, I’ll pay this loan off in 3 years instead of 5, and save about 6 grand.

If I add $150 to my payments, I’ll pay it off it 2 years with a savings of… wait for it… over $8,000.

So the question is, is it worth coupon shopping, limiting unnecessary travel, and cutting pub and restaurant visits out completely for the next couple of years?

The answer: FUCK YEAH!!!

So, kiddies, I’m going to be a home body for the next little while. Sure, I’ll miss hanging out for beers the odd weekend, enjoying the convenience of a local restaurant for my work lunches, or taking the streetcar out to the Beaches just for something to do, but if it means keeping the cost of a decent used car out of the hands of an evil financial institution, it’s a small sacrifice to make.
Damn, but I’m lucky I found me a low-maintenance woman who likes my cooking.

Incidentally, there are ways I could squeeze more money into the loan and pay it off even sooner… but to do that, I would have to move.  Not only does moving suck, but there’s no way I would find a cheaper place in the city that’s still livable and within walking distance of work, groceries, and medical facilities, thereby increasing travel expenses and negating any savings.  Besides, I like where I’m living.  Oh, and did I mention that moving sucks?

Forgot to mention something: television is now out of my house. Not just cable, which happened a few months ago, but all broadcast television. I even unplugged the antenna. Not only were there very few programs that I liked coming into my house, and what little I did like was peppered with loud, manic commercials for shit I don’t want. So fuck off, television. I’ll take your money, but you’re not welcome in my house.

Yesterday, Metal and I went to the Gladstone to check out the Walking Life art exhibit opening. Not my usual cup of tea, but it sort of falls into my beat at Torontoist, so I thought I’d give it a try.

Um… yeah.

Didn’t really see the point to it yesterday. It was just a bunch of crazy crap on the walls with no context, no narrative, nothing. I thought that if nothing else, a freaking program would have been useful, but there wasn’t a single one to be seen. Just a bunch of oh-I-wanna-slap-em art dweebs talking snooty over sparkling water and plantain chips, and a pile of flyers for other events.

I had no idea what I was going to write about the exhibit, but I knew it wasn’t gonna be good. Something was nagging at me, though. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that an art show on a subject as basic as walking could just suck so bad. This afternoon, I took my bike down to the Gladstone to take another look.

Not only was I the only person there (12:30pm is heavy early for the Queen Street crowd), but lo and behold: programs! Where the hell were those yesterday during the opening reception? Might have been a good idea, eh? Suddenly the mishmash of hanging artsy pieces had a narrative. Some of the stuff was actually pretty cool when you knew the story behind it and didn’t have your Queen Street art patrons that smell of faux fur, tar shampoo and stale soy lattes pushing you out of “their light.” Reminds me of the sentiment Sloan expressed in one of their songs regarding Consolidated: it’s not the band I hate, it’s their fans. Well, it’s not the art I hate, it’s the artsies.

So tomorrow, I shall write up my piece about the exhibit, and it won’t be a slam. It likely won’t be shining praise, but it won’t be a slam.

I’m getting seriously tired of this mock-journalistic rut my writing has been stuck in for the past 16 years… but that, as they say, is another story.

WTF?!  Where the hell did this week go?  I feel like I got nothing done, and it’s already time for another RANDOM PHOTO FRIDAY!!

This is me back in 2003 on a trip to the White Rock Ostrich Farm.  Have you ever had an ostrich steak?  Totally worth the trip to Milton.  It’s like eating a big slab of red meat without all the fat and risk of heart disease.  I took one home, marinated it and cooked it up on the ol’ George Foreman Grill(tm).