The lads next door at the skyscraper job-site have started up some sort of explosive riveting job today. It’s very, very loud. Try listening to that over and over while you’re trying to get some work done in front of a computer.

You probably haven’t seen Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. Especially if you live in Atlantic Canada, where it airs at 1:30 a.m on A.

We’ve been watching it in our house, but not until the next day, thanks to our digital video recorder. And, somewhat to my surprise, it’s pretty good.

The monologue is best fast-forwarded through, as its just more of the same formulaic non-funny banter.

But once Fallon sits down at his desk, there are some genuinely good off-the-wall moments, unusual for a format that is generally as strict as Kabuki Theatre. Which is not to say that there’s not the usual movie and book plugging going on. But Fallon is more genuinely interested than Letterman, and much less cynical than his predecessor Conan O’Brien (who always felt like he was mocking both the audience and the guests).

He’s kind of like the guy you and I would hope to be if we were hosting a late night talk show: sometimes bumbling, sometimes a wide-eyed fan, and sometimes cracklingly funny.

Last night’s episode, the opening of the second week of the show, featured Amanda Peet, Rose Byrne and Joshua Topolsky. And in that way that an episode with slightly-obscure guests can often prompt, the show truly came into its own: the first week jitters gone, Fallon much more relaxed, and the guests rising to the challenge. (If you live in the USA, you can watch the episode online).

Yankee Magazine Food Editor Annie B. Copps reveals the answer to this question, as part of a video guide to making Irish Soda Bread.

From Roy comes a pointer to a series of interviews with Islanders who moved here to go back to the land.

The Weakerthans are playing the UPEI Student Centre in Charlottetown on March 21, 2009. I’ll be away, but you should really go.

I just got a call from a woman named Zuzana in Kosice, Slovakia, confirming a hotel reservation (we’re booking into City Residence). It still amazes me that it’s possible to place trans-Atlantic telephone calls without operator intervention.

Roy Johnstone has started posting PDF files of fiddle tunes to his website.

The Fitzroy Street Skyscraper may destroy life on earth as we know it, but there’s no denying there’s a certain beauty to its sky-scraping form as it rises, especially on a clear day:

Hon. Robert W. J. Ghiz and I are walking toward each other in the basement of the Confederation Centre of the Arts:

Premier (nodding head): Peter.

Me (nodding head): Beautiful day we’re having.

Premier: Chilly though.

When I was a kid I once, while visiting my grandmother, developed an inflamed spleen. This lead to the classic exchange:

Doctor: Have you had a bowel movement today?

Me: What?

Nana (whispering): He means “have you had a shit.”

Then, six years ago, my gallbladder made life a living hell.

Now, today, a visit to the doctor reveals that I may have an inflamed appendix. Not an appendicitis, at least right now. But enough to make life uncomfortable. Leading to the exchange:

Me: So if it does develop into an appendicitis, how will I know?

Doctor: You’ll know.

If I make it through this, I will have done battle with all of my vestigial (or at least non-essential) bits. At least I hope that’s all of them.

Update: White blood cells not elevated, so new thinking is that I have some sort of virus that causes abdominal pain that will “clear itself.” Hmmmm.