This is as early as I’ve been up in a long time: it’s 6:20 a.m. and I’ve preemptively fallen out of bed in anticipation of Dad waking me up in 10 minutes. He’s driving Oliver and I to the airport this morning for our return flight to Charlottetown.

This has been a very short visit — too short really — but I’m glad we came, as it was nice to see Mom and Dad and Mike and Karen and Joe before Christmas. Catherine, from all reports, has completely renovated the house in our absence, which is pretty well par for the course when she’s left without the need to shepherd Oliver and I through our daily lives.

All systems willing, we’ll be back on PEI by 1:00 p.m.

Afterthought: isn’t there a song that has the words “back to Ontario” in it? Or maybe I’m just thinking of that kid’s rhyme that we used to sing on the school bus that started “They say you’re in the army…”.

This morning was Day One of the switch to a rotary shaver.

The biggest difference between the rotary Remington and the “bar” Braun is the audio feedback: with the Braun I’m used to the shaver making a different sound when it’s cutting and when it’s not, which is a good way of knowing what’s shaved and what’s not. The Remington seems to sound pretty much the same whether it’s cutting or not, so I’ll have to develop new methods for figuring this out.

While floating the three rotary heads over the wide expanses of the cheek seems to work well, I’m unsure about what technique to use for the mustache area where there’s only room for one head (the manual warns “hold the shaver so all heads touch your face together”). I’ll also need to experiment with whether to shave the under-chin area with the shaver right side up or upside down — it’s not clear which position will provide the closest shave.

Post-first-shave my skin felt like it had been lightly braised with a propane torch; I know from previous “changing shaving methods” experiences (i.e. shaving with a disposable Bic after years of electric) that this is to be expected. I’m going to drop in to The Body Shop for some healing after-shave salve this afternoon to mitigate the searing pain. This transition challenge must make for an interesting aspect to the shaving products business — it’s a great barrier to winning over new customers to your method.

The shave itself seems about as close as the Braun, somewhat closer under the chin. I actually managed to cut myself shaving, which I didn’t think was possible with an electric; it happened in the deep expanses of the underchin, though, in areas where I never take the Braun, so this is perhaps to be expected.

More from the shaving frontier as the experiment continues.

From brother Johnny comes news that Willie Nelson is coming to Charlottetown on May 7th, 2006. Opening act is Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.

My lack of plugged-in-ness probably means everyone else has known about this for months. This is the biggest thing since Bryan Adams played the Civic Centre back in 1998. Next thing you know we’ll be getting Elton John (just like Saskatoon did back in 2002).

As you are madly rushing about Charlottetown this week shopping for last-minute Christmas gifts, allow me to recommend Hon. Marion Reid’s new book These Roots Run Deep.

I bought a copy two weeks ago, and one night last week, with nothing on television and a touch of a cold coming on, I sat down to start the book. I didn’t put it down until I finished, four hours later.

Marion spins a good tale, and the book, a review of her life from birth to present, is a compelling read, full of adventure (I think I counted four episodes where, by all rights, Marion should be dead now) and the joys and sorrows of growing up first a member of her parents’ large family and then leading her own.

These Roots Run Deep should be required reading for all new Islanders, as it effectively conveys one sense of what growing up in rural Prince Edward Island during the 20th century was like; for those of us who are sometimes bemused by how PEI works, understanding that history is a useful tool for understanding.

These Roots Run Deep is published by Tangle Lane, and is available at bookstores across the Island. I’m sure if you gave Marion a call she would be happy to sell you a copy too.

Tod recommends a service called trackitback that’s sort of like “War Amps Key Tags for technology stuff.” I just placed my order: I’m going to stick them on my iBook, my phone, my digital camera, the router I carry around when I travel and more. Maybe I’ll even stick one on Oliver.

Marketing cost for trackitback? $0. They just did what they said they were going to do for Tod, and the blogosphere did the rest.

Mom, Dad, Oliver and I visited a stored called XS Cargo this afternoon. It’s in the style of Winners, in that it sells the merchandise that other stores couldn’t sell, and so it has a constantly changing collection of products. Unlike Winners, however, they sell TVs, DVD players, hardware, tools, telephones. And electric shavers.

At detailed here earlier, I’ve decided to launch an experimental switch to a “rotary” shaver after using the Braun “bar” style shavers for many years. To this end I purchased a three-head Remington Microflex 3x for $29.99 at XS Cargo. It’s plugged in to charge now, and I’ll use it for the first time tomorrow morning.

The manual warns that I need to “allow three weeks to develop and effective shaving style” and for my “beard to adjust to the new shaver.” They also caution:

Wait at least 15 minutes after getting up before shaving to ensure the face is free of puffiness that may be present from sleeping.

Who knew? Perhaps I’ve been puffy for all these years and Catherine simply hasn’t said anything. As the 15 minute period after waking is about the only period during the day that I’m in front of a mirror, maybe I’ve got a distortedly puffy self-image.

Obviously this new shaver is going to change my life completely. Stay tuned.

Olle reminded me that I’d neglected to mention that I’m in the midst of a very short pre-Christmas jaunt to Ontario with Oliver. I was suddenly struck with a bout of holiday homesickness last week (“home” in the “where Mom and Dad live” sense — “home” proper has tipped to PEI now), so I booked a couple of WestJet seats and here we are.

I noted an important shift in the WestJet passenger base on the flight down: people are now flying WestJet simply because it’s a better airline and price is no longer the most important aspect in the choice over Air Canada.

Why would I fly an airline that treats Charlottetown as an impediment, is staffed by grumpy employees, and flys grotty old planes when, instead, I can fly an airline that sees Charlottetown as an opportunity, has the best staff of any airline I’ve every flown, and flies new planes with televisions at every seat?

The WestJet attitude towards kids was particularly worthy of mention: the last time we flew Air Canada with Oliver we overheard the flight attendants complaining to each other about the bothersome number of kids aboard; yesterday the WestJet flight attendants made sure all the kids had headphones for the TVs ahead of the adults, provided juiceboxes before take-off to help with the change in air pressure, handed out crayons and colouring paper, came by every once in a while to make sure everything was okay, and actually treated the kids like real people and not unwanted excess cargo.

We’re actually looking forward to the trip back. When’s the last time you could say that about Air Canada?

Our public school education included French classes starting with grade 6, and these classes continued for the six years through to grade 12.

A cornerstone of the teaching materials in Ontario French education during the 1970s and 1980s was a series of videos featuring a lovable character named “Sol.” Sol was a clown, and his whacky franco-antics hit us not only in school, but also on TV Ontario, the educational television channel.

I remember “Sol, le Disc Jockey” and innumerable other skits designed to get us to understand one aspect of the language or another. And the skit I remember most of all was the one where we learned the words for breathing in and out: “Inspirer…,” Sol would intone, followed by a big breath in. Then “expirer…,” followed by a big breath out.

Brother Steve pass along the news that Marc Favreau, Sol’s alter-ego, has died at age 76.

Here’s to you, Sol; my breaths in and out today are in your memory.

This excellent demonstration of how magazine cover photos are retouched (pointer from Loic Le Meur) should be immediately placed on the reading list of every high school student. Indeed everyone could use a dose.

The sad and sorry thing is that as I toggled back and forth between the “before” and “after” shots of eyes, lips, breasts, waist, etc. I found myself silently agreeing “yah, that looks better.”

Thanks to all of those who have been geotagging the city over at RealCharlottetown.com. There are now 262 places on the map, 131 of which have been added by other people. Meaning, I think, that the project has cut its apron strings.