JULY 2005

B.C. ferry runs aground in West Vancouver, hits marina and docked boats, Les policiers de Terrebonne devront gérer la libération de Karla Homolka

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Fri, Jul 1, 2005 at 12:35 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday but it was a road trip from hell, with almost every obstacle imaginable thrown in our way. First there was the unloading of the truck with Courtney and Sarah, which was surprisingly fast and smooth, despite the fact we moved everything into a basement half the size of the truck. But then we were somewhat lost trying to find the place to return the truck, and when we finally did and Claudine and I were en route in the rental car she had picked up, we were locked in slow moving traffic on the Don Valley. So we hopped off and made our way to the 401 on Victoria, but then the 401 was moving at a snails pace. We were still in Toronto after an hour! Then it turned out that the ‘scenic route’ was nothing more than backed up traffic as well. We stopped in Peterborough and hated almost every minute of it. We made a solemn vow never to return. After another unbelievably long traffic jam we ceded defeat and headed back to the 401. Then of course there was an accident and we were held up for ANOTHER HOUR not moving, just sitting in the car playing around like apes (well, I was the monkey, taking off my clothes and scrambling around on the ceiling of the car, I’m sure to the delight of all the passing truckers). So by the time we made it to Ottawa it was 8:30. We had left Toronto at NOON! Claudine was in tears from frustration and exhaustion and being 3 hours late to meet all her friends. The picnic was cancelled and replaced with supper at Piz-za-a with Claudine’s close friends, and drinks afterwards at La semaine du quatre jeudis, the place where all her schooldays friends congregate during holidays. Oh, by the way, Happy Canada Day. So last night I was the DD and we drove to Claudine’s parents neighbourhood where we stayed at a friends house. This morning we had breakfast at her parents house and watched the Snobirds flying overhead and now I have to go; I have the key to the car and we need to bring some things here in preparation for Benoit’s wedding on Saturday. Today we’ll head into Ottawa and meet up with the gang. I need to check a few more things on email before I go. Are you around for the festivities? The fireworks? I have my cell phone with me so give me a ring if you want to hook up, 514–293-8184. Oh, BTW, Scott Brison wrote me back and he said he had forwarded my portrait-painting proposal to the Curator at Parliament (I didn’t even know there was one!). So hopefully that will go well, as I am getting tired with all the rejection letters I’ve been receiving lately.

-chris

Tom Cochrane kicks off Live 8 in Barrie, calling for aid for Africa, Le premier unifolié est rentré au pays à l’occasion de la fête du Canada

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Sat, Jul 2, 2005 at 12:08 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

I must have just missed you yesterday. While you were unveiling the original Canadian flag that flew atop the Peace Tower back in 1965 atop Parliament Hill in front of 25,000 screaming (drunk, most likely) spectators, I was with Claudine at the National Gallery hanging out with the contemporary art. In fact, we came a hair’s breath from stealing a part of a Kim Adams sculpture. It would have been too easy. I had been telling Klo about a small beer can sculpture I had seen at a fund-raiser for the Montreal Biennial last year, and lo and behold, there it was again, inside a big fishing spaceship thing, just hanging, dangling; it actually looked as if it had become dislodged from the sculpture. Inside it served no purpose. Klo just dipped under the wire and was standing inside looking at the beer can (because if you look through the eyepiece you can see a small maquette of two figures totally having sex on a tractor), and for an instant we realized that we could easily slip it in her bag an no one would be the wiser. But cooler heads prevailed and we satisfied ourselves with simply imagining the fun outcomes of such a venture; holding the piece for ransom, for example, or just becoming adept art thieves (probably safer that becoming bank robbers).

En tous cas, we spent a good couple hours in the museum, making the regular pilgrimage to see Voice of Fire and we had a pleasant discovery: Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller’s Paradise Institute was on display, which was a whole lot of fun. A bit predictable in parts, and a bit random in others, but still a fun experience. It wasn’t as seamless as some of her other pieces, but still intriguing.

We did a bit of shopping, adding a few items to the picnic basket gift Klo bought for her cousin’s wedding, then we drove back to her folks for supper. Her sister had been held up in Halifax because the airport had been closed, so it was us and Philip. We played a bit of chess beforehand but didn’t finish any matches. We had big thick steaks on the barbecue and had family conversations. Claudine and I drove back to Ottawa in time to meet Eric, Rudy, Braden and Sarah at the big Louise Bourgeois Spider sculpture in front of the National Gallery and we watched the fireworks from there. We were rained on by fireworks ash. That stuff stings when it gets in your eye.

After the fireworks we stopped in to visit Camille and hung out with her and her sister Manon at their very funky apartment. I tried to help Camille get the links to work on her blog but to no avail. I’m just not a very good tech. It was really fun to meet people for the first time; Camille and I know one another primarily through our blogs and emails. Sarah Roberts was thrilled to meet another Anne of Green Gables fan.

We had breakfast at Klo’s parents again this morning, her sister Jo had arrived from Moncton and Toronto, and now everyone is in pre-wedding mode. We still have a handmade card to make and a picnic nappe to buy, so I had better get going. Do you have a lot of weddings to attend this summer? I have three and Camille has five.

-chris

With concerts over, activists concentrate on G8 meeting in Scotland, Charest somme McGuinty de condamner une vidéo qui dénigre le Québec

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Mon, Jul 4, 2005 at 12:13 AM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

The wedding of Sandra and Benoit was touching and emotional and fun,

it being a good blend of traditional with a twist. It was incredible

to meet so much of Claudine’s family in such a short amount of time.

The ceremony happened outside on the lawn of a golf club country house

in Gatineau, with the reception and supper indoors. The food was quite

good, actually. Each of the tables was arranged with the name and a

photo of the different countries that Sandra and Benoit have traveled

in. We were sitting in Austria, with Claudine’s grandmother, who, at

95 years of age, is spy and witty and exudes an energy and

intelligence far beyond many people I know in their twenties. Bizarre.

The ceremony brought tears to the eyes, especially when Benoit broke

down at the sight of Sandra walking down the aisle. I felt very

comfortable with the family, despite the language, and it was actually

fun, not so stressful, to practise my french. Bizarre. I’ve the

impression that some of Claudine’s family, incIuding her mom, know, or

at the very least sense, that we are about to announce our engagement.

I could be reading into things but there seemed to be a few hints

about marriage that were above and beyond the norm. Why, just this

afternoon Claudine’s godmother Camille, Benoit’s mother, mentioned

that she was practically MY godmother. I think mom’s have a sixth

sense regarding these matters.

Claudine and I are actually falling deeper in love, if such a thing is

possible, and we are living so contentedly and peacefully with one

another, enjoying absolutely everything about one another and each day

being thankful that we’ve found one another and have the good fortune

of being so happy with one another.

En tout cas, I spent the dancing part of the evening trying out new

moves on the dance floor with Sebastian, the 8-year old son of

Stephane, son of Pierre, one of Claudine’s father’s brothers. He was

lots of fun and told me some funny jokes; funny at that age, and

funnier because I didn’t get the punchline until I retold one of them

to Claudine. Funny word play about Joes.

So this morning we had breakfast, more of a brunch actually, at

Claudine’s folks before heading to Chantal’s, sister of Stephane,

where we all played Marco Polo in the pool and I played tabletop

soccer with Sebastian (I beat him three games to two; an

accomplishment I am quite proud of, as he was quite good and I rarely

play, if ever).

At around 5PM Claudine and I hit the road back to Toronto. This time

traffic was more or less normal and fluid and smooth, certainly on the

old #7. Of course, things slowed down again on the 401, as various

bottlenecks and accidents slowed things down. What a surprise. Luckily

I am getting the hang of driving in Toronto and slipped onto the

connector just before the big slowdown, where fire crews were out

hosing down a burning gasoline or oil slick on the highway.

We’re about to jump in the shower and hit the hay. We were planning on

stopping along the way to fool around a little but got talking and

missed the opportunity. Next road trip, perhaps.

–chris

Karla Homolka says she’s not dangerous and doesn’t want to be hunted down, Karla Homolka a été remise en liberté après 12 ans de prison

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Tue, Jul 5, 2005 at 2:43 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

Sorry I didn’t write yestersday. I blame it on the humidity and smog.

It sucks the energy right out of you. I dropped Claudine off at work

in the morning and then my computer at CPUSED (the repair could take a

week but they will do it in-house) and finally the car at the

Enterprise location across town. Everything here is located across

town, either east or west or north. Grabbed the subway home and walked

down Landsdowne in the hot hot heat. It seems to take forever to get

around, the city is one big sprawling sprawl.

Had a nice long nap mid-afternoon.

Worked on klo’s computer and transfered the bulk of address from one

email account to another. That took some time.

Read for a bit and had another nap on the back deck. Talked and joked

with Mohanad. We rode in Roberta 2 to the beer store and laughed at

his deteriorating Tuck Tape muffler repair job.

Made supper for Klo and afterwards we cycled to the Cadillac Club and

met Elizabeth Grant for a drink. The humidity had sucked the energy

out of us. We cycled back home early and started a movie that Mohanad

had rented, something about heroes, with Sigourney Weaver and Jeff

Daniels, something about a suicide in the family. It had a disjointed,

indie-feel, predictable narrative, and Klo fell asleep after the first

minute, and I wandered in and out of consciousness throughout. Had

weird dreams all night long. Slept in late.

We’re both of us working on computers at the moment; she working on a

translation contract and I on emails and researching grants and

fundiung and galleries, though I haven’t started. Occupied myself this

morning with a leisurly breakfast reading the paper and drinking

coffee and then washed a couple loads of laundry down the street and

read a bit more of A Staggering Work and drank a little more coffee.

Almost finished the boook. Came back and had a shower and shaved. Am

letting my chest hair grow back; Nairing was not the brightest idea

I’ve had of late. It is growing in all prickly and ingrown in parts.

I’ll stick to trimming thank-you very much. An d to think, I almost

shaved my armpits after Eric did his. What is this, monkey see monkey

do? My mom would say that if Eric jumped off a bridge would I follow?

But I didn’t follow and I didn’t shave my pits and I don’t think Eric

is about to jump off any bridges, unless it is into a deep body of

water and for fun, in which case yes, I would probably do the same.

Haven’t gone bridge-jumping since the summer of ’94.

OK, back to work.

-chris

Homolka appeals conditions as unconstitutional restrictions on her freedom, Les Shriners choisissent Montréal pour construire leur nouvel hôpital

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Wed, Jul 6, 2005 at 10:46 AM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

Yesterday afternoon Claudine and I cycled to Kate’s house to help her

with groceries. Remember Kate? She was at the Symposium d’art

contemporain de Baie-St-Paul last summer. Claudine stayed with her for

a couple weeks back in April, before she moved in with Mohand and

Tyler. Kate had fallen last week while rollerblading and fractured her

arm in a few places. She did this while on a second date. As a result

she missed an artist residency in the Yukon, really far north, not

even a village really, somewhere near the Arctic Sea. But on the other

hand things seem to be going well with her new man. Point being,

Claudine and I were there to help her pick up groceries.

We had parked her car while Kate went to the bank machine and Lo! And

Behold! We found Stuff in the trash right beside us, next to a defunct

candy store. Not candy-related Stuff, but boxes and boxes of trophy

components. Of course, I couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass

by; we loaded up the car with boxes of the Stuff. What will I do with

the Stuff? I’m not quite sure exactly, but I’ll do Something with the

Stuff. Make public art interventions. Turn benches and billboards into

depositories of heroic daily deeds. Give awards to my friends. Maybe

I’ll send you one. Build one big super-trophy. Who knows.

Claudine and I went to see Batman Returns last night. I think it would

have been almost perfect if they had reduced most of the dialogue to

nothing but unintelligible mutterings. Sort of in the vein of silent

movies. The images alone could have told the story. Why does Hollywood

have to insert so much Cheese into the dialogue? Is it because it is a

comic book story? Such drama. And what is with fight scenes nowadays?

It’s like the cameraman has wandered into the middle of a Rave dance

floor with the camera lens stuck on zoom; all we see is flailing

limbs. There is no poetry in that. When it comes to fight scenes

Oldboy has it; Batman does not. And the car chase? Puh-lease. But I

can see Trevor’s point, that the movie handles the birth of the Batman

in a way that must have huge appeal for fans. But what is up with Liam

Neeson? Is he, like, stuck in Jedi mode? Half his (cheese!) dialogue

sounded like it was lifted directly from his apppearance on Star Wars.

Living here has settled into a weird, nomadic yet romantic existence.

We live, work, even have some meals, like breakfast in bed–crumbs?

Bah! Just shake them out later, sometime before sleep and after sex–

all in Claudine’s room, stuff strewn everywhere, living out of

suitcases and boxes, everything up in the air, everything on the

floor, the couch, the tables, the chairs, the shelves, the bureau; as

if we are travelling, just passing through, banging off a few

contracts her, proposals for galleries and exhibitions there, a little

of this, a little of that.

If the sun comes out we will go to the island and hang out on a nude

beach. If it stays cloudy we’ll go for a run (I have new running shoes

grâce a Eric, and have been thinking it could be a fun activity to

share in, to run, see different parts of the city, talk about this and

that, make plans, run home hot and sweaty and collapse on the bed or

the floor or the balcony or the kitchen counters and have hot sweaty

sex and then a cool shower; why else spend all that time running

through a smog-infested city? There must be some other release). Or

maybe go to the library and get some books on Russia and the

Trans-Siberian Express.

-chris

News of London terror attacks sweeps Canada after PM talks to distressed Blair, Ottawa accroît sa vigilance; pas de menace précise contre le Canada

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Thu, Jul 7, 2005 at 7:38 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

Had a fun day at the beach yesterday. Claudine and I cycled downtown

to the ferry terminal and caught a boat to the Islands, then cycled to

the “Clothing optional beach”, What’s up with the political correct

title? What’s wrong with calling it a nude beach? Or, more accurately,

one could call it a “Gay Man Nude Beach”, as it is mostly gay guys

that hang out there. Gay and mostly old. Anyway, we relaxed on the

beach and read and napped and applied and re-applied sunscreen to our

more sensitive bits. At one point I think another couple tried to pick

us up. I guess it’s not just a gang hangout. In fact, we saw a couple

other couples there as well. Eventually we wandered off the beach and

found a small little stand of woods with a decrepit picnic table

inside, perfect for some fooling around. Why do my legs sting

afterwards? Is it the mosquitoes? There were lots of mosquitoes,

especially near the end, as we were getting sweatier, like the sweat

was calling to them, making them excited, sensing the rush of blood

close to the surface, their little stingers and suckers nervous and

trembling with anticipation. But the burning sensation was more like

Poison Ivy, though it faded after an hour or so. Perhaps it was just

the sun. At least we both came.

Last night we made grilled brie cheese sandwiches with nectarines

accompanied with salad for supper, and rented Ma vie en cinemascope

and ate ice cream and went to bed early. It is amazing to think how

many of my friends would probably have been prescribed a lobotomy if

they had been alive back in the forties and fifties.

Today was my first day of work with Mohanad. It was more a day of

driving around this humongous sprawl of a city from apartment to Home

Depot to job site to job site to Home Depot to job site to Canadian

Tire. In the whole day all I accomplished was re-directing a small

length of duct, hung a couple sheets of drywall, painted the ceiling

of a tiny bathroom and… well, that’s about it. Most of the time we

were driving Roberta 2, the Ford Festiva from Hell, around the city.

Sans Muffler. Large Plumes of Black Smoke. Peals of Laughter (us) and

Nasty Looks (everyone else). Don’t worry though; the stop at Canadian

Tire was to pick up a new muffler, which Mohanad installed on the

street next to his apartment. No more growling and roaring. Then we

went to Sarauran Park and threw the Frisbee around. Hopefully tomorrow

will be a little more productive.

Tonight we might go to Karaoke at the Gladstone, or just hang around

the apartment and clean up and relax, do some Internet work, email,

research, the usual. My computer is fixed but I probably won’t pick it

up until Saturday.

Courtney and Sarah have stopped by after a day of apartment seeking.

We’re sitting on the back porch smoking hukka and drinking beers. I

bought some chicken for the barbecue. Claudine bought cucumber and

tomato and basil. Yum.

Independent B.C. MP who saved Liberal government dies after cancer fight, Clarkson se rétablit d’une opération visant à lui installer un stimulateur

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Sun, Jul 10, 2005 at 8:55 AM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. Did I write the day before that? I

can’t remember. Have been busy with work. We’re getting stuff done;

getting the drywall up, getting the taping and plastering done,

building bulkheads, saving the company, you know, the usual. The

homeowner is really upset with Mohanad’s boss, because the basement

project, which consists of three rooms and a new floor, had been

“under construction” since April. Mo was working there alone the past

two weeks and did a lot of electrical and plumbing work. So an

ultimatum was issued but we are easily on track, now, to have what the

owner wants finished, by next week. Both Mo and I are off next week;

me to Chicago with Klo, and he is taking a vacation from work to work

on one of his own projects. I keep telling him he should go into

business fro himself because I think his boss jerks him around. For

example, on Friday afternoon we drove to his boss’s house so Mo could

get hi paycheck and lo and behold it wasn’t there. Forty minutes in

traffic to go way east, Scarborough or some such place, for nothing.

And even after he finally got through to his boss and they

re-confirmed that the cheque would be there and Mo drove out there

again that night, guess what? It wasn’t there again. He tries to blame

this nonsense on “communication problems” which to me means that his

boss clearly has some sort of mental problem.

Anyway, we worked yesterday too, just to catch up, and then caught

some live jazz at the Communists Daughter, where the bartender picks

up a trumpet and sings in between serving drinks. Claudine met us

there and then we went for supper at a nearby Thai restaurant, then we

rented a movie and then we fell asleep, out cold, out like a light,

down for the count. I blame the humidity.

Today we are off to Georgian Bay with Peter and Rebecca and Swintak.

-chris

Canadians not psychologically braced for threat of terror, McLellan says, Legendre devient le premier candidat officiel à la direction du PQ

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Mon, Jul 11, 2005 at 10:51 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

It is too hot to do much of anything today. Hot, hot, hot. A local

radio station reported 100 degrees this afternoon. Most of the day I

was at work in a (luckily!) air conditioned basement. It is my last

day at that job; I got a call from Kate today and she wants me to help

her with the plastering in her new studio. I’d prefer to work there,

just before the Chicago trip. Fo that we leave Wednesday night. After

work today I took the subway and tramcar home, only to realize I had

no key, no wallet, no money and no phone to call anyone. I napped

briefly on the sofa on the deck before mohand came home and we went to

the park to play more Frisbee. Made supper and walked down the street

for ice cream with Klo. Worked on my computer a bit tonight. Did I

tell you it is back, like Lazarus, from the dead? I picked it up on

Saturday. Everything works and all my files and programs are still

intact. Did I tell you about the trip to the beach on Sunday? I guess

not. Well, it was fun, but I’ll not go into details at the moment, as

I’m dripping with sweat, and the best solution to remedy that is to

turn off all electrical devices (except the fan), and lie very, very

still. Either that or have hot and sweaty sex and exhaust ourselves

into sleep.

-chris

Albertans who can afford to pay will get enhanced health-care services, Des députés du PQ demandent à Bernard Landry de rester hors de la course

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Wed, Jul 13, 2005 at 12:09 AM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

It’s still hot. What a strange feeling, to be sweating almost all the

time, no matter what the activity; reading, sitting, napping, eating,

cycling. I was actually sweating less while working on Kate’s garage

than at any other time. I guess the air conditioning helps. Darn shame

the stuff uses so much energy and will probably precipitate the

downfall of our civilization, but what the hey. So I spent the day

sanding and skim-coating plaster at Kate’s, then met up with Claudine

and Swintak for a beer at some hole in the wall on Spadina, had

mediocre Thai food somewhere in the Kensington market, had more beer

and then spent about ten minutes at a video projection-live band

opening-closing of a performance art group at the Drake. We were all

suffering from ADD (caused by the heat, perhaps?) so we left early.

I’d like to be all poetic or literary and describe the sensations of

going about daily life in such heat, the smell of the various piles of

waste or stagnant ponds, the constant accumulation and trickling of

sweat from in various body parts, but I don’t really have the energy.

It’s too hot to do much of anything (but don’t confuse this for

complaining, because I prefer the heat to the cold, you know that).

I’m off to have a midnight shower.

Oh, there was an article on the new gallery that will be opening in

Saint John in the Telegraph Journal today. I’d send you the link but

their online articles are for “subsribers only”, not very helpful for

those of us that live out of province. When will people learn? It’s

the World Wide Web, stupid!

-chris

Cost of NHL lockout still to be reckoned as two sides prepare to vote on deal, Plusieurs anciens péquistes et quelques bloquistes appuient Louis Bernard

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Thu, Jul 14, 2005 at 2:00 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

We’ve made it to Chicago, after a nap at a rest area at 3AM and a bit

of a harrowing examination by customs officers at the border. Note to

self: when being questioned by a customs agent, don’t pause after each

question longer than five seconds, only to give an answer with a

question mark at the end. Example:

-What is your destination?

-Chicago (this said with some degree of confidence)

-For what purpose?

-…rock concert?

-Are you employed?

-…yes?

-What do you do?

-…I’m a house painter?

This initial exchange of course led to a second interrogation, where a

Nice Agent and a Bad Agent took turns drilling us each on our jobs,

our past USA visitation histories, where we were staying, how long we

had known Jenn, when was my last day of work, when was I last paid,

how much, did we have credit cards. That was a great one: The old guy

demanding of Claudine, “Plastic, I wanna see some plastic”. She

thought he was asking about plastic water bottles or something. He

said it in a tone that made it feel as if we were being mugged. But

once she flashed the Visa at him they changed their tune and we were

let in without further fuss. Plastic talks.

Anyway, we met Jenn early this morning, went for breakfast at a

quaint little vegetarian place near her (fabulous!) apartment, then

Claudine and I hopped a bus and the L train downtown. After listening

to Nick on the radio, the NPR, or at least some of his songs (he

nannies for a radio music and writing magazine host). We’re on our way

to the Chicago Art Institute, after passing on the Museum of

Contemporary Art. We’ve both seen more than enough of Dan Flavin,

thank you very much. Just stopped at the Mac store to check email.

More later,

-chris

Accused killer Robert Baltovich to stand trial again for second-degree murder, L’armée doit revoir ses façons de recruter de nouveaux soldats, dit Hillier

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Fri, Jul 15, 2005 at 5:56 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca, martin.P@parl.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

Homes with AC are a nice touch in the summertime. It sure beats

sweating the heat in TO. Jenn has a great apartment and Claudine and I

are staying in her roommates room, who is in Indonesia for a wedding.

I slept so soundly last night, after conking out, for what seemed like

the third time of the evening, passed out on the bed, exhausted. We

had eaten at a great little Thai-inspired restaurant called The Kozy

Noodle that had the largest collection of toys I had ever seen

gathered in one place; there were shelves upon shelves, the bathroom

walls were covered, floor to ceiling. A very fun theme. And the food

was cheap and yummy at the same time.

It was the Millennium Park and the Chicago Art Institute that really

wore me out yesterday. We had a brief nap on the Great Lawn, part of a

Frank Gehry music pavilion and garden, very nice, and watched a bit

the progress being made on the “largest public art sculpture” by Anish

Kapoor, the Cloud Gate, and then entered the museum from the school

entrance. This enabled us to slip in for free. Bonus. Stopped for a

beer at the courtyard café and broke a glass.

This morning we met up with a few of Claudine’s old friends from her

schooldays in Africa, some who were traveling through, others who live

in Chicago and Peoria. Had breakfast at a fun little place called

Earwax and discussed theology. I think atheists are just as fascinated

to hear about the hows and whys religious fanatics lose their faith as

as bible thumpers are to welcome the born again into their fold.

We did a little thrift shopping later in the afternoon with Jenn.

Bought a pin to stick on my $7 Flying J straw hat), as well as a few

T-Shirts (dirt cheap, ranging in price from $.40-1.50 ea.) and some

cuff links. Right now we’re back at her place making a little supper

before heading out to some gallery openings in the West Loop. I don’t

know the galleries or the artists but we are going primarily to

compare reception foods and drinks.

-chris.

Martin, Harper face off over gay marriage bill as parliamentary debate begins, Martin et Harper s’affrontent aux Communes sur le mariage gai

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Mon, Jul 18, 2005 at 4:40 PM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

What a trip. So we’re back now, from outer space, we just walked in

with that look upon our faces. That stunned look from driving fatigue,

when you’ve been behind the wheel for so long that standing still or

lying down seems stranger and more at odds with your perception of

time and space than hurtling overtop asphalt at 130 kilometres per

hour.

At 3AM we stopped for a nap but I couldn’t fall asleep longer than

fifteen or twenty minutes. It all worked out; we left the concert in

Chicago at 6:30 local time, missing the Wrens and the Decemberists,

but by then we were a bit festivaled out, and by that time Xiu Xiu,

Out Hud, and Andrew Bird had made the day worth it. On Saturday we

enjoyed most AC Newman, Broken Social Scene (who are in the process of

suing the NYC police because w=one of their members was beaten by four

cops when he tried to buy some pot in a park. Good Grief! The

bandmember in question weighs less than I do; how much of a risk is

that?), The Go Team and Tortoise. Good, but not spectacular.

The festival grounds were chock-full of skinny hipster white kids with

creative hair and even more creative buttons and T-shirts sporting

exciting phrases and retro sports logos, oversized sunglasses and

floppy hats, and tattoos of every shape, colour and credo. On Sunday I

sported my “save Mary Kate” T-shirt, bought for $.90 at Discount

Village on Roscoe. Sweet! Know what else was sweet? A fun summer drink

being served at one of the few health-conscious food vendors at the

concert, a lemonade with chucks of watermelon in it. Yum! I want to

try it again, next time with vodka. Would this not be the perfect

summer drink? Especially for record-breaking summer heat waves such as

currently being experienced in Chicago (though not so bad there yet

that the old folks are dying, not at all like that summer in ’95) and

Toronto (where we are back to sleeping and sitting and sweating all

the time in the suffocating heat, wondering if buying an air

conditioner would be worth it, considering TO is becoming more and

more a blip, little more than a rest stop in the trajectory of our

lives; would we be able to re—sell an AC unit in the fall or winter?).

Did I tell you about Friday? I guess I haven’t really been online,

Jen’s wireless provider was on vacation this weekend. The art gallery

openings were fun but mostly for the cheap wine quick buzz; a lot of

the art was dull. There were a few interesting MFA grad students work

at I-Space, and a neat British artist with naïve paintings of houses

with quotes from real estate selling features embroidered overtop.

Then we commenced a small pub crawl, hitting the Pontiac Bar and Grill

where the waitress forgot to charge us for Jenn’s G&T, then the

Inn-Joy for wicked pizza, but the patio closed promptly at midnight,

so after that it was Maria,s, where we were served by the close to

100-year old Maria herself and danced to the swinging sounds of the

’60s from an authentic jukebox.

Oh yeah, and Sunday morning we drove out to Wilmette to see the

Bahà’i House of Worship, one of seven in the world and the only one in

North America. Great architecture (the huge, laced stone dome

structure was actually designed by a Canadian and took almost forty

years to construct). We had a nice picnic on the lawn before heading

back to Union Square for the second day of the Intonation Music

Festival. I bought some silkscreened posters. I want to have all the

new SJ gallery promotional materials done in silkscreen, it is an

unstoppable art form.

Speaking of which, I’ve got today off, tomorrow I am to finish

painting Kate’s studio, but all the rest of my free time this week is

being devoted to art, art prep, gallery prep, administration,

grant-writing, the works. All my free time except for stolen moments

in cool air conditioned movie theatres or laying out on the Clothing

Optional Beach and swimming in the lake, or finding local wading pools

to splash around in, or having cool showers,, which is what I really

have to do now. Too sweaty, too sticky. How do you deal with this

insufferable heat?

-chris

Edmonton police say cause of pregnant mother’s death undetermined, Le Conseil de l’industrie forestière tire à boulets rouges sur les Innus

chris lloyd <dearpm@gmail.com> Wed, Jul 20, 2005 at 8:13 AM

To: pm@pm.gc.ca

Dear Paul,

I forgot to tell you all about our Detroit adventure. As we were

passing through Detroit on our way home the other night we ended up

behind what must have been a drunk driver. He was swerving back and

forth, occupying both lanes, riding the brake. Luckily he left the

highway before causing any damage. Our exit, to the bridge and / or

tunnel, was under construction and totally impassable. There were

detour signs up so we followed those until they inexplicably

disappeared. Yep, just as if someone decided, halfway through the job,

to just fuck it, and went for beer or drugs, dumping the remainder of

the signs in the gutter or dumpster somewhere. So we drove, a bit

aimlessly, through that lovely part of Detroit that best recalls

________ (insert name of any city recently fallen victim to plague,

civil war, bombings or severe cicil unrest), what with its empty,

boarded up buildings, weed-ridden empty lots and darkened streets. We

did find our way to the tunnel, after getting directions at an

overly-bright gas station where we used the washroom and the handicap

handle fell completely off the wall. Not much of a story; we didn’t

even have problems at customs, although the guy hassled us a bit about

whether or not we bought stuff (we said that we hadn’t; who’d believe

a $5 wedding dress?)

Last night we decided to smoke a joint and bike downtown to watch

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We smoked in a park. By the time we

got to the theatre I was feeling the effects and shackling our two

bicycles together became quite an ordeal. The ads at the start of the

film pretty much ruined the high. What is going on with that? The ads

are getting longer and longer and more stupid and inane. Do we really

need a five minute hair tonic ad followed by lip gloss followed

by…well, whatever followed was equally dumb, but we were hiding our

eyes and blocking our ears for the remainder, As a rule, from now on,

we aren’t going into the theatre until TEN MINUTES after the start

time. You can tell your good buddy ad execs the same. I’m not paying

to watch stupid TV ads. You’ve heard of road rage? Well multiply that

by ten and you’ve got the hottest new insanity trend on the market: Ad

Rage. It’s only a matter of time before regular citizens begin to

completely lose it in front of billboards, especially those rotating

ones on the backs on trucks, or better yet, the big-arse ones hanging

off the back of planes—haven’t these people heard of Kyoto? I hope

they are getting fined up the ying-yang—but also the little, insidious

ads, like the ones in bathrooms, or parking meters, on buses, online,

on sidewalks, ads designed to look like ‘zines, they will all start to

send folks into paroxysms of rage, mark my words, it will be worse

than Dawn of the Dead.

So CATCF was fun, Johnny Depp turns in a fine Michael Jackson-inspired

Willy Wonka, very bizarre mannerisms, the human and digital

choreography was spectacular, the Oompa Loompas—all of them played by

one actor, that little East Indian guy whom I best remember playing a

part in the X-Files, quite creepy actually, on the show he plays a

beggar who is missing his legs and riding around on a platform,

scaring the bejeezus out of everyone with an even, malicious glare—But

as an Oompa Loompa—or rather, as ALL the Oompa Loompas—he comes

across more as a resigned, slightly disgruntled but also content, post-colonial

refugee coffee addict. Here is the Oompa Loompa poem for the Mike Teavee

section of the book, copied from some Willy Wonka #1

fan site (I hope it is accurate. I’d like to place my hand on a new

copy to read, seeing as it has been around twenty years since the last

time I read it):

“The most important thing we’ve learned,

So far as children are concerned,

Is never, NEVER, NEVER let

Them near your television set–

Or better still, just don’t install

The idiotic thing at all.

In almost every house we’ve been,

We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.

They loll and slop and lounge about,

And stare until their eyes pop out.

(Last week in someone’s place we saw

A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)

They sit and stare and stare and sit

Until they’re hypnotised by it,

Until they’re absolutely drunk

With all the shocking ghastly junk.

Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,

They don’t climb out the window sill,

They never fight or kick or punch,

They leave you free to cook the lunch

And wash the dishes in the sink–

But did you ever stop to think,

To wonder just exactly what

This does to your beloved tot?

IT ROTS THE SENSES IN THE HEAD!

IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!

IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!

IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND

HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND

A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!

HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!

HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!

HE CANNOT THINK–HE ONLY SEES!

‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say,

‘But if we take the set away,

What shall we do to entertain

Our darling children? Please explain!’

We’ll answer this by asking you,

‘What used the darling ones to do?

‘How used they keep themselves contented

Before this monster was invented?’

Have you forgotten? Don’t you know?

We’ll say it very loud and slow:

THEY…USED…TO…READ! They’d READ and READ,

AND READ and READ, and then proceed

To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!

One half their lives was reading books!

The nursery shelves held books galore!

Books cluttered up the nursery floor!

And in the bedroom, by the bed,

JULY 2005

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