A great piece from Dan Brown at the CBC comparing the party theme songs from the federal election, with links to audio.
For my money, the Bloc had the best of the four.
It’s remarkable how the Conservative song sounds so much like a Simpsons parody. Or a new-age bilingual fascist rallying cry. If you’re trying to convince the country that you’re not evil, having a theme song where the singers sound like they’re wearing titanium spandex and gas masks is not advisable.
And the NDP, trying to package itself as new, hip and relevant, should have known better than to have repackaged Rise Up, a song that was first released in 1983.
The Liberal song, will, it’s just crazy.
I’ve been using CocoaMySQL on my Mac to manage MySQL databases for the past month. It’s a great product.
If you’ve used “SQL Enterprise Manager” under Windows to manage MSSQL databases, you’ll have a good idea of what CocoaMySQL does (albeit with considerably more elegance than Microsoft’s product): you can add, edit and delete databases, tables, and indexes, run queries, look at data in a “data grid” and export data as CSV or XML.
Highly recommended.
Here’s a random selection of endorsements in this federal election:
- Conservative
- Green
- Liberal
- The Globe and Mail
- The Toronto Star
- Unionized Building and Construction Trades Council of Ottawa-Gatineau and District
- NDP
Either endorsement isn’t as common a thing as it used to be or news content has moved behind for-pay curtains, hidden from Google, because that’s all I’ve been able to find in an hour of searching. I welcome other pointers.
By the way, has anyone else noticed that Canada.com (which I won’t strengthen with a hyperlink) is an evil, evil website that is so poorly designed, drenched with “watch this on Global” advertising and banner ads, and organized in some chaotic nonsensical fashion, as to be effectively useless?
Monday is Election Day. Elections Canada can tell you where to vote, given your postal code. In Charlottetown, polls are open from 8:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m.
A reminder that everyone is welcome to join us here at 84 Fitzroy Street, starting around 8:00 p.m., for a night of results watching.
The next project for my choreographic friend Bill is a project called Grasslands, which he describes as a “site specific collaborative community performance [that] will share the uniqueness of the geography and culture of the grasslands area with the larger community of Saskatchewan and beyond.”
CARI — Capital Area Recreation Inc. — cries out for a better name. Even setting aside my personal acronymophobia, the name means nothing more than a bureaucratic arrangement. Even the “Charlottetown Pool and Rink” would be better.
But the pool rocks.
Oliver and Catherine and I went out for a swim this afternoon.
We’re used to the “family swim” time at places like the Delta and the old YMCA being an obscure Sunday hour or two. At CARI, “family swim” in the shallow leisure pool is always. Which means from 7:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m. weekdays, from 9:00 a.m. on the weekends. This is fantastic, and will mean much to families with complex schedules that want to go for a family swim.
We’re used to “swimming with Oliver” meaning that either Catherine or I has to take him in the men’s or women’s locker room with us, and try to change ourselves while simultaneously preventing him from running into the sauna. At CARI, there’s a large, bright family change room in addition to the men’s and women’s. A family locker room, by the way, doesn’t mean “friends and neighbours, men and women, naked together” as I tentatively feared — there are many spacious lockable change rooms off the locker room where you can do your bathing costume voodoo in peace.
We’re used to pools where the only nod to the existence of those under 12 years is a “shallow end” that’s less deep than the “deep end.” At CARI, there’s an entire pool (the aforementioned “leisure pool”) that is shallow. Shallow enough for Oliver to walk around in. And there’s an even-shallower and warmer pool inset into one corner that would work well for the younger and shorter. The main leisure pool has barrier-free access, meaning that anyone can walk or roll in on a gentle grade.
The only downside for Oliver (or more properly for us, who had to contend with Oliver in its presence) is the giant waterslide that careens down into the far end of the leisure pool. I don’t begrudge its presence, and I secretly want to go back and experience it myself; but it’s awfully hard to explain to a 3 year old why he’s not old enough to experience something that looks so much fun.
The only fault I would find with the CARI pool setup is the absence, at least so far, of any sort of membership program. Although they do offer discounted books of tickets, it still means about $12.00/visit for the three of us (combined), which will add up. We would buy a membership in a heartbeat if they were available. I would also encourage CARI to look into a setup, commonly practised by the YMCA, where access to the pool would be available for free, or at a reduced rate, for those who can’t afford full price.
One other small issue: life for parents would be a lot easier if they took out the candy machines that cover the central hallway like the dew. Nothing like trying to wrangle a kid all wound up on a good swim away from the dizzy allure of the demon sugar.
CARI has seen its share of controversy over its conception, funding and build. From finding a home, to the drawn-out schedule, to the $400 million cost (I’m exagerating). I don’t know enough about the particulars to know how we’ll make out as taxpayers when all is said and done. As parents, though, we’re doing all right.
Thanks, CARI.
Coming up to Election Day on Monday, I’m still firmly in the “undecided” column. I thought that I’d made up my mind last week, but then a sharp but seemingly unofficial NDP operative (a sort of socialist “Mr. Wendy”) knocked on our door this morning and laid on a good seduction routine.
There’s one thing I need help on: Dody Crane’s web effort is so poor as to be archetypical of “how not to use the web to get elected.”
The website is poorly designed, contains almost no content save some blurry photos of Jack Layton and Leo Broderick, and Dody’s blog [sic] bears out the wisdom of Darren Peters’ comment that “it’s probably better not to have a blog than to do one poorly.” (Blog summary: 36 days, 5 posts in total; complete absence of content or feeling; Aliant spelled wrong, twice).
Now if I put my compassionate hat on, I can conjure up some reasons like “Dody and her team are more concerned with talking to electors than getting a good website.”
But that doesn’t stop the nightmares wherein, under an NDP government, all the photos are blurry and we enter a sort of “graphic design recession.”
And I can’t help but thinking that, in 2004, if you don’t understand the importance of the web, and can’t muster the resources necessary for a respectable web effort, perhaps you’re missing some skills fundamental to governing. If only the skills to realize “we don’t have the resources or eye for this so we won’t do it.”
I’m open-minded enough to be convinced that I shouldn’t factor this in to my decision on polling day (and smart enough, even if I do, to not have it be a significant determining factor). But it scratches at me in the same way it would if, say, Dody’s campaign workers answered the phone “Dody Crane’s office, sorry we can’t help you here.”
Thus comments are welcome and encouraged.
Although Jevon and I are usually on different perceptual planes, I find his essay Why the client hates your software is bang-on. I would go one step further: the programmer is the software. The actual code is simply a prosthetic device they wear to increase their reach and efficiency.
In a dramatic switch from “institutional buffet style” to “urban museum café style,” the Confederation Centre of the Arts has gutted its restaurant and recast it as Mavor’s Bistro, the “Mavor” an homage to Mavor Moore, founding director of the Charlottetown Festival.
There’s no doubt that the aesthetics of the place have improved dramatically. Gone is the grey institutional feel, the chichi prison approach to decor that used to permeate the Centre. It’s been replaced by brighter colours, better furniture, cleaner lines. You could be at the MOMA or MassMOCA if you squint your eyes and ignore the giant moose down the hall. It’s a very pleasant space for lunch.
Indeed the aesthetics of the entire site have taken an upturn. There’s bright signage everywhere (I believe it’s now impossible to lose your way), better washrooms (apparently the women’s washroom for the main theatre has gone from something like 4 stalls to 21 stalls, a development that apparently warranted a private “21 flush salute” when it opened), and the old “basement dinge” feel has been almost completely eradicated.
Mavor’s Bistro’s marketing pitch is that they “proudly serve” Starbucks Coffee. Presumably this is a pitch both for the local “wow, just like the big city” consumer and, more importantly, for the big city “just like home” coffee drinker. I don’t question this decision, but it does seem a little much to so loudly trumpet that you proudly serve Starbucks. I can think of better things to be proud of.
Food and drink-wise, there’s some room to grow. The menu is interesting, and offers a good, broad selection. Execution needs work, however.
My iced mocha coffee had a big glop of chocolate syrup sitting at the bottom, and about twice as much ice as was required. It wasn’t Starbucks-level quality, in other words.
Catherine ordered the sushi plate, and came away pretty convinced that it was the worst sushi she’d ever had: almost-raw rice, poor wrapping, uninspiring contents, the wrong soy sauce for sushi, and no pickled ginger (the chopsticks were nice, however). They should get their sushi from Monsoon, because they’ll never make it better than Monsoon does.
I had the grilled chicken and swiss cheese wrap, which was actually pretty good. Not life-altering, but well prepared with fresh ingredients. The accompanying salad was drenched in roasted red pepper dressing; I should have asked for it on the side.
Service was top-notch: friendly, efficient, quick and knowledgeable.
Overall, the experience was so different from the old “all you can eat roast turkey Thursday buffet” to make it almost inconceivable that we were eating in the same place.
We’ll be back to Mavor’s over the season, I’m sure: I expect the problems in the kitchen will improve as the staff gain more experience.
Our next stop: the new Mackenzie Theatre, which has apparently thrown off its own dinge, and emerged a bright, delightful space to watch music and theatre (caveat: this description came from a Centre employee). Apparently there are plans underfoot to programme the Mackenzie ever weekend this winter, which should prove a welcome respite from the endless drear.