Saturday, November 10, 2007

Scratch Records, Nerve Magazine, Blake Nelson, etc: a placeholder

Hey, y'all: in the next week or so, we'll have a Keith Parry interview, a Blake Nelson interview (author of Paranoid Park, recently adapted into a film I didn't like much - see below -by Gus van Sant) and some photographs from Femke of the Scratch Records celebrations, featuring Black Mountain, Thor, and much more... but right now, actually, I've gotta finish some related stuff for the Nerve Magazine, who have a deadline (which my blog lacks). We'll have this all up soon enough, really. Pax.

Saw two really cute things on a wet walk home over the Cambie street bridge tonight (the long route home from Pat's Pub). The first was a rat, scared of me, trying to run away along the endless linear stretch of the bridge, trying to conceal itself by running along the inner edge of the ledge. It would get about thirty yards ahead and stop, amidst flowing rain and wet leaves, to catch its breath, eventually relaxing, then suddenly (as I continued my walk) I was upon it again. It would give a startled leap - literally bouncing up into the air - and re-commence the sprint, as I called after it soothing phrases, feeling guilty for its panic and kind of wanting it to stop so I could check it out. This repeated itself three times - three startled leaps and sprints - before the rat figured out that the bridge was long and that I was going to continue on my course, whereupon it made a move of considerable intelligence, a sort of calculated gamble as a way of solving its problem: it ran in front of me, hopped onto the ledge, and getting as far onto the side as it could without plunging into the water below, zoomed in the opposite direction. Smart guy! I continued on my way, and the rat got to realize that I'd never, in fact, been chasing it at all. I hope he didn't feel too stupid.

Shortly after crossing the bridge, I saw my second cute thing: a blonde girl walking home with a boot on one foot - and nothing on the other (if you didn't count her toenail polish). It was a bit of a hobble. I didn't stop to commiserate.

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