XIX: Redouble the image

It's hard to believe we're at the tail end of August and therefore summer. I know it seems like that's all anyone, particularly myself, can think of in days like these, but us schoolkids, we've got that on our minds.

But sadly August was, for the one and only Scotto, such a vacant lot of activity, a vacuum of interest... a total void. Whereas during July I went through many melodramatic moodswings and constant philosophical re-evaluations, August was primarily dedicated to... nothingness. Just a vast expanse of biding one's time. It doesn't feel like it's been that long since I chose my courses for the upcoming year, but the truth is, an entire month has passed.

After writing my last entry, I made a slight alteration to the settings of this b-logue. I re-added it to the listings. I had removed it, however long ago for whatever reason, I didn't want the wrong people finding my profile and therefore stumbling upon the expansive wealth of disturbing personal opinion I keep here... but then I decided, fuck it. I'm mature now. More or less. Not really. But I can account for most of what I say here, bullshit or not. Back in the day, I used to get the occasional random visitor who would drop an encouraging comment here or there. I'm conflicted as to whether I actually do like the idea of people reading these words, but I ought to let them stumble across it. In the slight event that I end up eventually someday saying something interesting or relevant, it'd be nice for those words to potentially get read.

It has been a comparatively eventful couple of days, starting yesterday when I woke up and headed out, as per occasionally-usual, for comics. My interest in comics has waned over the years. My conversations with Kris about thme used to be very in-depth but when we talked about them last weekend (or whenever) I just felt obligatory and totally uninterested. Part of it is that all my favourite comics were cancelled or the creators moved on or they ran their course, etc etc. Part of it is that constant crossover events have strained my concentration. Part of it is me, just me. You know. You know how it is. You get into something for a few years, then move on.

But anyway, I still do read a number of comics and I still write reviews at ComiXtreme and I still like the comics that I like, the few that remain anyhow. And, at least in summer, it gives me a destination every Wednesday morning when Comic Connection gets a new shipment. Well, not every Wednesday: I read so few comics these days that I find that I go a week or so without any reason to go. But I still love the walk, and as I have long documented, I like to make a whole thing about it. I get up, I walk down to Lakeshore, I get lunch, I go by the lake and chill out for a while until the store opens; then I use what remains of my leg strength after walking for a solid hour to get to the store and take a bus home. The important part is in the middle. It's by the lake where I feel at peace. Despite often being populated by unoccupied seniors, gawking families and seagull poop, the atmosphere down there feels fresh and real. As I approached, I noticed an odd sign with strange words and arrows. "BASE CAMP / TRUCKS / SET" Basecamp? Set? At the top of the sign was a logo that I suddenly recalled: that of CTV's series, Instant Star. By gum, my regular hangout - where just 2 years earlier I had shot a scene for my own little video project, Half-Past Eight PM - was currently setting the scene to an episode of Instant Star, a half-hour drama about the perils of young stardom... kind of a Canadian young female musician Entourage. Or not.

In reality, as glamorously as I've described it, what I basically saw was an assortment of teamsters and camera equipment, a catering truck, a few dozen orange pylons, and a literal busload of extras (meaning, I saw them getting off a schoolbus, where the word "school" was cleverly blacked out, lest anyone get confused that it's August.) I hung around a bit, didn't make contact with anyone, and got on my way when it became appropriate for me to do so.

After dinner, Dad, Eric and I went out to Toronto. Brandon was just arriving from Kingston by coach bus, after his stay in Montreal. The bus terminal was an odd scene... like a weirdy dingy corner of the city that fits every single imaginable description of a bus terminal. It was low-lit, with lots of exhausted-looking travellers, lousy tiled floors... I know it's a patently ordinary place, but you've got to enjoy things like this when they're unusual to you. You can't become numb to the subtleties of different settings.

Anyway, after the bus got in at about 8:30, we got home by 9. At 10 I headed out to play Risk with the guys. It was the first Risk game in weeks, and perhaps the first game played by all 4 of us all summer, despite my constant politicking, "Guys, when can we play Risk?" It isn't that I love playing Risk... the games themselves are always the same pattern as far as I'm concerned... but I like having the convenient excuse to get out of the house and hang out. And if there's one thing that was sorely missing this summer, by god it was that. Hell's bells.

The medium is the message; blogs aren't meant to stand longer than a few days. I wonder if I'll be hearing much about McLuhan this fall?

I got home around 2:30 and fell asleep. I woke up to a ringing phone. I don't know why I answered it - I have a policy that I don't get out of bed for phones. I value sleep that much. But whatever - it was a wrong number.

I accompanied Eric out to Sheridan to show him around and help him through the somewhat intimidating building as he tried to navigate getting his OSAP papers taken care of. We arrived at the OSAP office to find they wouldn't accept Eric's health card as photo id (confusing me as to how I never seemed to have a problem,) so he had to go get his Student Card. Well we got there - the SCAET building - and realized that he needed his student number, so we had to go all the way to get it off a public internet terminal, and when we came back the line for student cards was suddenly huuuge. So we ended up spending 40 minutes unnecessarily if only Eric had brought his student number to begin with.

Ultimately, we went grocery shopping with dad. There was a weird moment in the checkout line where dad was making small talk with the young mother (and her mother?) behind us. I know it's a parent's lot to embarrass his sons, but Eric feels mortification unlike many people, I could tell it was burning him. He has this hang up about dad making him feel too much like a kid in public.

I was embarrassed too, sure, but more awed at this reminder of how charismatic my dad can be. I've noticed it for years the way my dad will gladly make not-just-small talk but very friendly banter with any random stranger if they'll give him the time. He's very folksy, and when you're out in public with him, that can be weird.

I'm gonna call it a day on this one. Keep on rockin'
-Scott