Here's a good one.

I was going to leave my dad's apartment in Toronto yesterday around 2:45, to catch a 3:20 train. I was going to meet dad out front. At 2:20, he walks in. "Are you ready? Apparently, some guy took a woman hostage at the train station this morning and it's all taped off, so we should leave early in case there are any delays." Or something like that.
It turns out that yesterday morning in Toronto, this fellow, enraged at his wife and under a restraining order to stay away from her and from guns, brings a gun into the store where she works (across the street from the train station), shoots at her (misses), then beats her. Later on, when identified by the cops, he takes a hostage (in front of the train station), and fifteen minutes later gets shot in the head by a sniper. Apparently, the negotiations weren't going well.
When I was in the train station later that day, the police tape was still up.
So a little creepy, if random, incident. It's good for me, I suppose, that it happened earlier in the day, and not when I happened to be around. Also creepy was how normal life seemed to be in the area, considering that somebody got shot there hours before.
Here's where I say something pithy to sum the whole thing up.

I was going to write something fantastic. The only thing I required, after sitting down at the computer and logging on to Blogger, was a fantastic idea. Damn! It didn't come!
I will simply say, then, that salmon filets go well with dry Riesling, some arugula, and bacon bits. I will say that Toronto is a nice city, if a bit unorthodox for my St. Paul and New York-addled mind. My dad has a great apartment. I'm really excited to see Anna (she comes in two days! Thurdsay at 4:20, barring any flight mishaps!). I wrote two songs yesterday morning. If I get enough encouragement, I might record them and give them to you. Otherwise, I'll put them on my next album, which, if you've been keeping track, might be a ways off.
People are fascinating. In this city, they look at you ever so briefly, and then look away. Like, if you were going to approach them and start talking, they wouldn't be totally surprised, but they won't give you a look-down, or a hello, or care about you unless you're going to make some effort. It amazes me how this is different in every city. In New Haven, it's studious how people don't look at you. Like they'd prefer it if you didn't exist at all. Like it would make their life better to walk alone down the street, and keep from being molested. In St. Paul, you say "hello" to many people you see on the street, and give a friendly nod or a smile to everyone else you see. But elsewhere, this is considered rude, and off-putting. That's fascinating.
Time to go.

Update

In case y'all were wondering why the title blurb changed in tense from the "we" to the "I," that's because Anna and I are soon to have a fo' real joint blog where we'll be posting the France stuff. More on that later.
paz fuera,
D

Boy,
I'm not very proactive about updating this blog, comparing it to some of my friends blogs, or whatever people who don't want to think that they're writing blogs call them. But that's not going to stop me from only having something to say every few days (such as that is), and subsequently only updating this one sporadically. The theory is, once I enter a strange and foreign country, I'll have more to say, or at least be taking more pictures, so I can put up links to those.
Ahora, estoy en Toronto. It's nice, I guess, but I've really only been here for a few hours. The drive in was confusing, because driving into Toronto is like "forest, trees, highway, big high rise, forest and trees, high rise complex, more trees, cemetary, more trees, downtown Toronto." That's strange. I guess I expected something more like, "trees, fewer trees, ugly industry, residences and stores, ritzy stores, downtown Toronto."
My dad lives in downtown Toronto. This is cool, I guess, but I've really only been here for a couple of hours, so how am I to know? I went to an italian restaurant, and had a nice couple of glasses of fancy Chilean wine and some pizza that was good. I played my album for my dad, and now I'm watching TV and letting the wine sink in, until I fall asleep, which will most likely be soon, tempting and time-consuming internet and TV aside.
The Magnetic Fields are a good band. Love, Music, Wine, and Revolution. The only thing I'm missing is the love and revolution today. Perhaps tomorrow. I've only been here for a few hours, so what do I know about the love/revolution scene in this part of Toronto. Love is on the way, though, because Anna flies in on Thursday, Dios-willing. So everybody make sure that you've got your minds on a safe and uneventful flight for Anna on Thursday afternoon, after around lunchtime Minnesota time, and through 4:00PM east coast time.
peace out.
D

PS: Robin, if you're out there, I'm listening to the mix I made for you. Did you like it?

The Album's Up

I'm at my dad's house in Ottawa, which means that I'm now on an internet connection fast enough to put the latest album up on the internet. Go download it! Send me an email with your address if you want a hard copy, and we'll chat. Let me know what you think! I'm going to bed now.
peace out.
-D

Woe Is My Computer

I've not been on the internet much, for a couple of reasons, since I got home.
Reason number one: modem. Man, modems are not suitable for what I like to do on the internet. Namely, download music, upload photos, generally not sit on my ass waiting for hours at a stretch. So I simply check my email, the one thing where speed difference isn't noticed, and leave.
Reason number two: my retarded computer. Well, it's not retarded. I'd hate to hurt its feelings by implying that it is defective in some way, but the fact that I have to loosen screws on the back of the computer simply to get it to power on is a little cumbersome. I believe that the empathetic among you would agree. However, once I've convinced the Gods that it's time for my computer to power up, it purrs like a kitten and I've got nothing to complain about in the world. At least, computer-wise. And generally complaining about everything is a bit tedious, even if you do have a blog and you think the whole world cares. Still tedious.
The other side benefit of having my computer back online is that soon, I'll be able to put my latest album up on the internet, for everybody to listen to, if they so desire. I was going to write, "for your listening pleasure," but that might possibly be presumptuous. You might hate it. Or you might think it's not easy to listen to, but think that that's a good thing. Far be it from me to limit the possibilities. Anyway, it's recorded and produced by Latif Learned, so it sounds really good.

Leaving Nantucket

I leave Nantucket in 7 and a half hours. Well, maybe 8 and a half hours. I'm not really sure. What I do know is that I have to get up really early, and then drive to Potsdam, NY. For those not familiar with their East Coast geography, and furthermore disinclined to consult an atlas, the trip from Hyannis (sp?) MA, which is the mainland port, to Potsdam, NY is not trivial. Something like 8 hours. Not exactly a huge road trip, but nothing to scoff at. But it's cool; we have David Sedaris on tape, and my CD collection, from which we will listen to about 2 CD's, is my guess.
So, the things I'll miss. I'll miss the beach, with the real ocean, and big fat naked old people. And sand dunes with craggy grass. I'll miss funny cobblestone streets (though I won't particularly miss the tourists that inhabit them). I'd say that I'm going to miss Rebecca (eldest, wisest sister), but she's coming with me. I'm sure there's more, that I could come up with if I sat here agonizing over what exactly it was. But the way of it with missing things is, in a week or so, the things I really miss will pop up unbidden, triggered from some unrelated thing. And I score a point. A memory point. He who dies with the most, wins.
I finished the album today. Perhaps in a little bit, I'll post it on the internet. But I need to make a suitable web site; I don't even have a mockup right now. And I'd hate to spend two months on an album and then have a really shitty web page for it. So be patient. In all likelihood, I'll post MP3's first, and put up a real web page later. But if any of y'all want a copy, just send me an email or letter, or give me a call, and I'll make you a copy. If people I don't know want one, send me an email and I'll make you a copy. Donations are nice, but I don't expect them from friends. Just people I don't know. That way you can pretend you're my friend, because in lieu of supporting me emotionally, you're supporting me financially.
I put up some pictures of Nantucket and such. That is all.

Best pun of the week: Malackluster College.
That is all.
love,
Donald

Some announcements:
I'm done with Explo. It's over. Yesterday morning, I said goodbye to the three people who were around that I cared about (without getting their contact info! shit!), packed up all of my things in the course of 20 minutes, checked out, and drove away with Rebecca (eldest, wisest sibling). Tired, and really ambiguous as to whether I was happy or sad about leaving. Today, I'm still not so sure. But the fact remains that it's over. Seven weeks normal time/fifteen years summer camp time of my life foot! Away.
I revamped the Explo photo page, without really adding any new photos. But there are more comments, and y'all can rest assured that I'll be taking more and better photos of Nantucket: the addenum to summer camp.
I have no cellular phone anymore. My personal one broke, and ran out of service simulataneously. If you have been trying to contact me on this phone in the last seven weeks or so, you've been out of luck, as you may or may not have noticed. Anyway, if it's urgent, in the next month, I'll be in Potsdam, NY, and you can email me to request the number there, as I'm not going to post it on the web, readily available though that information may be.
Ugly By Now is back on the web! Go and get all of our music!. I'll post a sidebar to this page, so you can return from here if you lose the link, etc.
I hope, from the vantage point of my (seemingly interminable) travels that every one of you is having an experience worth remembering, and furthermore that I'll hear about these things someday.

It's 1:15 AM, and I was supposed to stay in all night. I'm on duty, after all. That means that I have to stay in, in case some kid has some emergency, or misses his mom, or just wants to chat. That's fine and good. However, in all of my six weeks here, I've never once had a kid come into my room after 11:00 PM check-in, for any reason at all. And tonight, it's raining. Tropical Storm Alex, perhaps? Making its way up the coast a little early? The first storm of the season. Anyway, it seemed prudent to strip down, strap on my lanyard, put my prox card in the pocket of my swim trunks, and run around in the rain.
Gosh, Donald, when you put it that way, it sounds like so much fun.
So here I sit. It's 1:18 AM. My hair's wet, but the rest of me is dry. Naked, because I can't summon the will to put any clothes back on for the 15 minute interim between wet and cold and bed. Not tired, because when I get more than six hours of sleep, I feel like I'm overly well-rested, like I'm wasting my day. I could be doing productive things, like writing mass emails for almost nobody to dubiously read.
Today I learned that I'm in charge of 21 kids, sixteen years of age, who cannot stay silent for longer than four seconds. Four seconds! That was the record tonight. It's 1:20 AM, and I can hear them upstairs thumping. Unable to remain quiet even for somebody else's sake. Fortunately, I'm being productive, and not trying to sleep. On the other hand, there's the last vestiges of a tropical storm outside, trying its hardest to lull me to bed. But I'm not tired. Not yet. Nothing's clicking. Nothing's saying "go to bed."
1:24 AM. Press return.
It would be funny, I'm sure, to watch me, or anybody at a computer alone in a dorm room alone at night, naked, trying to think of something cogent to write. Sitting, scratching at my belly (it itches!), playing with my eyebrow hair, scratching my head, my neck. Funny in the queer way, not the ha ha way.
Here, I'll put up some pictures, and call it a night.

Some days you sit down at your computer and you have a thousand emails from long lost friends, and you have no time to look at any of them. Other days you sit down and write a million emails, and then get none for a week. This is the way of it with email.
Some days you sleep so little it is arguable whether you napped or slept through the night. Other days you sleep for hours and hours. In either case, you can end up feeling well-rested, or extremely tired. Some days, you can't help from yawning even though you know that you slept well. This is the way of it with yawning and sleep.
Some days, you feel on top of the world, even if you have no reason. Other days, you have a reason to feel good, life is good, but you don't feel good anyway. Other days you feel bad because you've done something wrong. Or sometimes you do something wrong and don't feel bad. This is the way of it with feeling and right and wrong.
Some days you can be creative, write a poem and make some little origami out of paper and brighten someone's life with a witty comment, all without giving the situation too much consideration. Other days, you try your hardest, and only come up with sitting on the couch with an anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach, reading a book you don't want to read, waiting for time to pass so someone else with a better idea can show up. This is the way of it with creating.
Some days you're in love, and so positive that everything is fine, and you feel enriched and complete. Other days, you know you have love in your life, but need to be reassured. And on other days yet, the love you used to have ceases to exist. Or you feel like it might, and you're scared. This risk eats at you internally, and you doubt if you should have ever loved at all, if only to cease that feeling. This is the way of it with love.
Some days when you're happy, you need to listen to someone else's sad music to prolong your happiness. Other days, happy music will stop you from being sad. On still other days, you need to be depressed, maybe cry a little, listen to something horrible, and see that through to the other side. This is the way of it with sad and happy music.
The choice of what day today is, however, is random. It's up to the whim of some air current, or something in the water, or perhaps the way someone close to you felt yesterday, or this morning. There's nothing to be done about that. This is scary sometimes, and other times it's obvious and inevitable. Some days things are clear and some days things are not. This is the way of it with days. At least, in my experience.