Stuff that happens when you get out of bed on the weekend
Saturday morning, Sarah, Ravi and I were all set to go to The British Isles Show. At the last moment we decided to google for more info, and discovered it was $14 entrance fee AND Sunita from Coronation Street only appeared on Friday afternoon. Well, that certainly took the swing out of our cricket bats. While I do worship at the temple of Jaffa (Cakes) even I have a limit to my faith.
So we decided to go to a vintage clothing exhibit at the CBC atrium instead (my ulterior motive was to sneak at peak in the CBC museum http://www.cbc.ca/museum/ while we were there). But two of us being of tight-fisted Scottish decent and the other a thrifty Indian-we balked at the $7 fee to look at musty old flapper dresses. Instead we bee-lined straight for the "Casey and Finnegan" treehouse set up outside the museum proper. Sure it was cheap with wood panelling right out of my parent's rec. room and scratched all to hell-but it was glorious. Mind you Judith Lawrence (puppeteer for C & P) must have fainted from heat stroke in there under the studio lights. It was delightful to see all the 30 and 40-somethings cooing as they strolled by, drawn to their childhood like bugs to a Coleman lantern.
Inside were more treasures. They've added a whole whack of Friendly Giant props and paraphernalia. Jerome with his blue spots, and Rusty with a disturbingly salacious expression painted on his face, and a moth hole at his chest that looked like a sniper's work. Below were the chairs (with the one to curl up in). And directly opposite-the castle! I towered over it, basking in the memory of a hundred bowls of Cheerios in front of the tube. Curiosity killed the cat and the illusion as I peeked behind to see the gears and pulleys (that opened those famous doors).
Then I we watched old clips of the premiere episode of The Journal which I actually remember as a precocious 12 year old (strange to Mary Lou Findley across from Barbara Frum), Man Alive, and Mr. Dressup (who was apparently a pioneer in drag for children's programming).
We cringed at the sight of the CBC windbreakers which staff were compelled to wear back in the 70s. Dubbed the pizza crew jacket, it was basically the gaudy but familiar CBC logo stretched and imprinted across a human torso!
More surprisingly was all the cool old recording equipment just out in the open for whomever to fondle and love. How very Canadian.
Later we went for Chinese food on Spadina at Kum Jug, where I was reminded that Chinese should never be my first meal of the day. Oddly, a man in a parka (anorak) kept rushing out of the kitchen with huge chaffing dishes.
Sarah bought some tofu in Kensington Market (at a place that sold only and every kind of soya product possible). I preferred some Gouda from the middle cheese shop (there are 3 cheese shops in Kensington-Global Cheese, which leaves their product out for small children to sneeze on; the expensive place with cheeses I can't pronounce; and the middle cheese place which is claustrophobic with its narrow passageways but reasonably priced.
After a passing acquaintance with a tea shop, we headed home.
Saturday evening was basically Scott playing Peter from The Brady Bunch in order to make appearances at 4 different birthday parties.
Sunday I rose, watched Coronation Street (Sally lost it, tore up tulips and threw them on her obnoxious vegetarian daughter's plate) and then actually made an appearance at church. Of course everyone made a big deal that I hadn't been in ages. Had to make an announcement for a Wills and Power of Attorney workshop and decided to do it as Troy McClure.
Brunch at a greasy spoon with Lionel, Steve, Steve's cousin Jen and her friend Ray. Turned out Ray was a big fan of Battlestar Galactica and Jen loved the new Doctor Who.
Oh and then the Academy Awards. At a trim 3 and a half hours, they were tolerable with Jon Stewart at the helm. Poor Lauren Bacall-why do they call these old dames into service and then watch them wobble like weebles.
So we decided to go to a vintage clothing exhibit at the CBC atrium instead (my ulterior motive was to sneak at peak in the CBC museum http://www.cbc.ca/museum/ while we were there). But two of us being of tight-fisted Scottish decent and the other a thrifty Indian-we balked at the $7 fee to look at musty old flapper dresses. Instead we bee-lined straight for the "Casey and Finnegan" treehouse set up outside the museum proper. Sure it was cheap with wood panelling right out of my parent's rec. room and scratched all to hell-but it was glorious. Mind you Judith Lawrence (puppeteer for C & P) must have fainted from heat stroke in there under the studio lights. It was delightful to see all the 30 and 40-somethings cooing as they strolled by, drawn to their childhood like bugs to a Coleman lantern.
Inside were more treasures. They've added a whole whack of Friendly Giant props and paraphernalia. Jerome with his blue spots, and Rusty with a disturbingly salacious expression painted on his face, and a moth hole at his chest that looked like a sniper's work. Below were the chairs (with the one to curl up in). And directly opposite-the castle! I towered over it, basking in the memory of a hundred bowls of Cheerios in front of the tube. Curiosity killed the cat and the illusion as I peeked behind to see the gears and pulleys (that opened those famous doors).
Then I we watched old clips of the premiere episode of The Journal which I actually remember as a precocious 12 year old (strange to Mary Lou Findley across from Barbara Frum), Man Alive, and Mr. Dressup (who was apparently a pioneer in drag for children's programming).
We cringed at the sight of the CBC windbreakers which staff were compelled to wear back in the 70s. Dubbed the pizza crew jacket, it was basically the gaudy but familiar CBC logo stretched and imprinted across a human torso!
More surprisingly was all the cool old recording equipment just out in the open for whomever to fondle and love. How very Canadian.
Later we went for Chinese food on Spadina at Kum Jug, where I was reminded that Chinese should never be my first meal of the day. Oddly, a man in a parka (anorak) kept rushing out of the kitchen with huge chaffing dishes.
Sarah bought some tofu in Kensington Market (at a place that sold only and every kind of soya product possible). I preferred some Gouda from the middle cheese shop (there are 3 cheese shops in Kensington-Global Cheese, which leaves their product out for small children to sneeze on; the expensive place with cheeses I can't pronounce; and the middle cheese place which is claustrophobic with its narrow passageways but reasonably priced.
After a passing acquaintance with a tea shop, we headed home.
Saturday evening was basically Scott playing Peter from The Brady Bunch in order to make appearances at 4 different birthday parties.
Sunday I rose, watched Coronation Street (Sally lost it, tore up tulips and threw them on her obnoxious vegetarian daughter's plate) and then actually made an appearance at church. Of course everyone made a big deal that I hadn't been in ages. Had to make an announcement for a Wills and Power of Attorney workshop and decided to do it as Troy McClure.
Brunch at a greasy spoon with Lionel, Steve, Steve's cousin Jen and her friend Ray. Turned out Ray was a big fan of Battlestar Galactica and Jen loved the new Doctor Who.
Oh and then the Academy Awards. At a trim 3 and a half hours, they were tolerable with Jon Stewart at the helm. Poor Lauren Bacall-why do they call these old dames into service and then watch them wobble like weebles.