Haven’t blogged in awhile cause I’ve been in Toronto. The one and a half people who read this silly site were devastated in my absence, I’m sure.

All in all, a very interesting trip. Mostly work-oriented, but I managed to squeeze in a little socializing too. Much gossip was consumed. Speaking of which – I hate those people who think they’re above gossiping. Hate ‘em. It’s just completely impossible to trust someone who won’t talk about anyone else. Because seriously, what’s so wrong with sharing information? Nothing I tell anyone is ever a secret. Nothing I share is malicious. And I NEVER want to know gossipy items for nefarious or mean purposes, so I ask you: What is the big deal? People who don’t gossip are like people who don’t watch TV.

Liars.

So ANYWAY. I picked up this capitalized ANYWAY thing from the Chuck Klosterman book I just read. Killing Yourself to Live, it’s called. It was enjoyable, but Klosterman himself may be overrated. I’m not sure yet. I’m interviewing him at the end of this week, so I think I’ll reserve judgement till then. The premise of the book is pretty much the same as the premise of the Sarah Vowell book I wrote about a few months ago – that the best thing a rock star can do to cement their stardom forever is bite it. Vowell was talking about American presidents in her book – about how getting assassinated works wonders for a Prez’s public image – and Klosterman is navigating the same territory. I wonder if they know each other. She used to be a rock journalist too. Maybe I’ll ask him.

I’m actually on a plane right now. West Jet is carrying me home. They do this rad thing on West Jet now that I was really hoping to have on this flight – 25 channels of free satellite TV, and your own little mini-screen in the seat in front of you – but alas, I guess I’m on an old plane or something, cause there are no TVs to be seen.

It’s both our losses – mine, and yours, you faithful reader and a half, you. (Dad!)

I have a Coldplay song in my head – the new one that’s always on the radio? “Fix You” I think it’s called. And it’s got me thinking: what is up with Coldplay, anyway? Why are they so effin’ depressing? And furthermore, how does a guy who has written some of the most downer songs of the millennium come to name his kid something as ridiculously upbeat as Apple? Seriously. What is up with that?

Jen

P.S. 2018-05-21: I find everything about this old post – the content, the tone, the self-consciousness, the syntax – deeply embarrassing.

Photo by Giuseppe Famiani on Unsplash