Which Muppet Am I?

I was bored, so I took a test to find out which muppet I most resemble.

No surprises here, I guess. Except that I'm not too great at playing the piano. Maybe I should learn to play Beethoven on my uke...

If you feel like taking this little personality test, just click the link below.


Rowlf Out!

You Are Rowlf the Dog

Mellow and serious, you enjoy time alone cultivating your talents. You're a cool dog, and you always present a relaxed vibe. A talented pianist, you can play almost anything - especially songs by Beethoven. "My bark is worse than my bite, and my piano playing beats 'em both."

The Muppet Personality Test

Monologue

Hey Reader,

Sometimes, instead of putting up a post, here, I'm going to put up some of the stuff I've written over the years. This is one of those things.

I wrote this monologue a few years ago. At first, it wasn't a monologue, but a sketch that I wrote for my old Winnipeg comedy troupe, the Spleen Jockeys. Later, after I moved to Toronto, I found myself troupe-less, and I converted it into a monologue.

It was better as a sketch, though. We used to do it with real instruments. One of our members (Darren) was a drummer, so he'd sit behind the drum kit and randomly bash the cymbals and do random drum rolls and stuff during the sketch. You kinda had to be there, but it was pretty damn funny. His drum solos at the end were pretty kick-ass, too...

Anyway, enjoy.



Crisis At the Gig

Hold it! Stop! Stop the music!

Somebody stole our set list!

It was up here a minute ago. It was taped to the floor…right by my mic stand. And now it's gone.

Guys…we really need our set list, back. Seriously. I'm not joking at all. Bors…stop playing! I understand the irony of playing the theme from "Law and Order", but this isn't funny! That set list is a part of us! I wrote that set list before our drummer, Steve, even joined the band! Technically, that makes it a more important member that Steve!

Calm down, Steve…I was just making a point, that's all. Because you joined after...

You see? You see what's happening now, you set list thief? YOU'RE BREAKING US APART!

Okay…maybe it would help if I described the set list. It was a white piece of paper. A BLANK piece of paper. No lines…lines are like the bars of a jail cell! It was a blank piece of paper, and it had writing on it. It had our SONGS on it!

OUR songs!

And one song by Zeppelin, 'cause they totally rock.

Yes Steve, John Bonham was...why are we having this conversation! OUR SETLIST!

Somebody took it! They stole it! Probably when we were playing that last song…

Okay…enough of this. Give us back our set list! Steve, stop hitting that cymbal!

I don't want to point any fingers, or anything, but I think it might have been somebody in the front row. If it was…that's so bogus. The front row is for people who LOVE us! Not people who hate us, and want to fuck us over by stealing our set list! You people, in the front row, had access to the set list. One of you…possibly somebody from a rival band, reached out and took it, while I was singing. I was into my music, and you took advantage of me!

It's like YOU RAPED MY SONG! YOU FUCKER!

Okay, okay. I'm calm…I'm calm…

Look, I won't kick you out of the show. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'm going to turn my back, and when I'm not looking, you can put the set list back. I'm turning around, now. So is the rest of the band. Guys, turn a round.

Steve…could you just…thank you. Okay. We're all turned around.

Okay…we're turning back. And…

No set list!

This is so bogus! Our set lists are like our children! Our only child! Because we only ever had the one. Set lists are really hard to put together, and we're the hardest working band in town! And now you stole it from us! You stole all our hard work!

YOU FUCKS! We loved that set list! I loved that set list!

Fine! I didn't want to do this, but it looks like we're going to have to put the show on hold for a while. The guys and I are going backstage to write another set list. Steve is going to play a drum solo until we get back.

Steve...NOT NOW!

I hope you're happy. I hope it was worth it. I hope our set list makes you happy. It made me pretty fucking happy, I can tell you that!

Hit it Steve.

So...You've Got a Great Idea for a TV show, eh?

Yeah, yeah, yeah...another repost.

But this past week, I was drinking with friends, a few of them wanted to talk TV. They had ideas for shows of their own, and they wanted my advice for how to pitch them.

I'm not the best guy to ask for this. The fact is, I've only worked in TV for a few years now, and I'm still getting used to the pitching process myself (so far I'm batting a 0% for pitching shows of my own). However, I do like to help my friends whenever I can, so I decided to repost this little ditty in an attempt to impart what little wisdom I have.

And also in an attempt to dodge shop talk in future social situations...

Enjoy.

So, You’ve Got A Great Idea for a Television Show, eh?

Okay...Well, I haven't worked in television for very long, so you should take my advice with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, you may want to think about the following things...

1) IS THERE A PRODUCTION COMPANY ATTACHED?

If not, that's a good start.

A lot of people don't realize this, but networks very, very rarely produce in-house programs anymore. Most television shows are produced by independent production companies, then purchased by the network.

That's not to say that networks are out of the production game, altogether. Some shows are produced by networks, but usually only a certain kind, like afternoon talk shows, news, and light variety shows.

Everything else? You should look for a production company. An experienced producer has connections for raising the necessary funds, finding a capable crew, sourcing out stuff like animation, editing, sound production, music composition, web-presence and...Yes...Finding the right network to broadcast your show.

2) IS THERE A NETWORK ATTACHED?

Okay...So maybe you went about your show back-asswards, and you got a network interested before you found a producer.

No problem. You're still in good shape. Lots of networks will dole out some development money for shows they may be interested in broadcasting in the future. It probably won't be much…But it'll be enough to provide incentive to do a bit of writing.

And you'll be getting paid to write...So quit your bitchin'!

Also, network execs have connections of their own, mostly to independent producers who might be willing to take on your show. And, if you're in with a network, and you've found yourself a good contact on the inside, who you can trust, you can gain a lot of valuable insight into what the network is looking for in future shows, giving you a chance to tweak your script into something desirable and get in on the ground floor.

And finally, it'll be way easier to sell your series to a production company if you can tell them that XXX Network has already expressed interest.

3) WHO'S YOUR TARGET AUDIENCE?

Is it for males, aged 18 to 35? You'll want to pitch it to the Comedy Network.

Is it for females, aged 25 to 40? CBC might be into it.

Is it for teens and tweens? Try YTV or the Tele-toon (although this is a very desirable market, so you might want to buckshot all the big networks).

Is there swears/nudity in it? Showcase.

Is there interpretive dance? Bravo

Is it Sketch Comedy? Tuesday nights at the Rivolli. No TV for you.

Sorry, to all you budding sketch comics, but TV sketch comedy's on a downward slide right now. Nobody's really watching it, and it's very expensive to produce. In other words, it's a huge crap shoot. Producers aren't going to spend their bread on sketch unless (like Kids in the Hall or Comedy Inc.) they think they can sell it to networks in the States.

And let me say this one last time to all the people who cite The Kids' In the Hall as the golden example of a successful sketch comedy show.

The circumstances under which The Kids in the Hall was produced. Will. Never. Happen. Again.

Seriously. The fact that it happened once was a miracle. Lorne Michaels will NEVER team up with the CBC to produce a high budget sketch comedy show. Ever again. So quit dreamin'!

Besides, live sketch is far more interesting to watch, so go audition for Second City if you want a career in sketch. You'll learn a shit load about how to make it right, and you'll connect yourself with some of the best sketch/improv artists in the country.

Know your network! Know what they show! Know they're audience! Know what they'd like!


4) IS IT SPECIFICALLY FOR CANADIANS?

If so...Good luck. Chances are, you actually have LESS of a chance selling a "look-everybody-my-show-is-by- a-Canadian-for-Canadians" TV show. Unless...of course…You're pitching to CBC. They're a public network, funded by tax dollars, so they're obligated to airing lots of Can-con.

The fact is, a big focus of the networks is INTERNATIONAL SALES. (E.g.: CTV makes shit-loads of cash off of Degrassi TNG because they sell it all over the world).

Don't get me wrong. You can set your show in a Canadian location, and still have success. Corner Gas and Trailer Park Boys do extremely well on the International Market, even though they are obviously set in Saskatchewan and Halifax, respectively. Similarly, the Kids in the Hall were very popular south of the border. But you'll notice that there's very little Canadian flag waving and Mounties (in Red Serges, at least) in any of these series. Its' quite possible to be a good Canadian show without screaming "I'M CANADIAN!!!" every five seconds. Patriotism is great and all, but geez, relax!

And PLEASE...don't make a show about hockey! It's just not that popular outside of Canada. Really. It isn’t. People in the places that you want to sell your show (AKA: The USA). Do not care about hockey.

And they never will. It's our game. And maybe Sweden's. Nobody else cares about it, so give it up.

Also, as a Canadian (who LOVES hockey), Even I’M sick to fucking death of hockey! Seriously, Canada, ease up on the fucking hockey already! It's getting ridiculous!

Oh...and another thing. If you're one of those high-minded types who is determined to never sell a TV show to the U.S:

Here's a quarter. Call your mother. Tell her you'll never work in television.

Next!

5) MULTI-PLATFORMING!

Can your show be turned into a pod-cast? Can you put promos and excerpts on Youtube? Can you release a sound track? Can you throw up an interactive website? What kinds of "Easter eggs" can you put on the first season DVD's? What kind of merchandise can you sell? T-shirts? Action figures? Video Games?
If there's a positive answer to any of these questions, MENTION IT IN THE PITCH!!

Believe it or not, TV shows make money off of more than just ad revenue. Merchandise is a HUGE way for production companies to recoup their costs from shooting.

Also, not to get all Marshall Mcluhan on you guys, but the face of media is changing.

Fast.

Television, as we know it, is not going to exist in a few years. All the signs indicate that, in our lifetime, your television will be replaced by something that will be far more interactive and individually user-based. Start thinking of your TV as a monitor, and your remote as a mini-keyboard. And start thinking of channel surfing as web browsing. Pay attention to how easy it is to download stuff onto your laptop. Now start thinking about how, soon, you'll be able to do that on your TV.

If I were you, I wouldn't spend money on plasma screens and Hi-Def TV just yet. You don't want to be stuck with a 5 year old antique on your hands, do you?

This shit's going to be here before you know it, and you're going to want to make sure that your show can adapt to the changes.

You heard it here first, folks.

6) WRITE A BIBLE!

(insert your own God joke here. And don't think I've never heard them all before...)

A show bible is a document that describes every facet of your television show. The locations, the characters, the premise, the shooting style, the writing style, the soundtrack, premises of each episode, EVERYTHING.

It's not a five-page document that you whip up two days before your meeting. It is a comprehensive, sometimes exhaustive, very, very specific tome of your show.

Why do you need a bible?

Well, for starters, your pitch meeting is not going to be a light, happy little cup of coffee with somebody who really, really wants to help. It's with producers who will need to work hard to raise the money, or networks that receive hundreds of proposals every year, and will be looking for ANY reason to pass on your project. You are going to be asked a billion questions about stuff you may not have even thought of. You need to know your project backwards, forwards, and inside out.
You need to be 100% confident that YOU CAN DO THIS SHOW! And that THIS SHOW WILL MAKE MONEY!

Otherwise, you're just wasting their time...and yours.

7) WRITE!

You need a script to show them. They don't expect an entire 26-episode season to be written, but they will expect at least one script. If you're the writer, write it yourself. If you're not the writer, hire one, or make friends with one (trust me...writers are VERY lonely people...). When you're confident, show it to people whose opinion you trust. Find somebody that will offer constructive criticism.

Your mother is not one of those people. Nor is your actor buddy who thinks he'll be perfect for the lead role.

Not sure how to write a script? There are tons of books to help you. I highly recommend Screenplay, by Syd Field, or How Not to Write a Screenplay, by Denny Martin Flynn. Also, it's a good idea to bone up on your storytelling. Read The Power of Myth or The Hero with A Thousand Faces, both by Joseph Campbell. And if you're really feeling ambitious, blow the dust off a copy of Aristotle's Poetics and give it a look. It deals specifically with Greek Tragedy, but much of his wisdom holds up in all aspects of writing.

And be prepared to do multiple drafts. If you think your first draft is perfect you're either wrong, or the TV writer's equivalent to Mozart...which you aren't.

Writing takes work. It's a discipline. You need to sit down and actually write. Even when I'm not working, I usually write for at least 2 hours a day...AT LEAST.

Oh, and don't bother with the old "improv-based" pony. If you don't have a script, you don't have a show.

Period.

If you think The Office didn't have a script, or Trailer Park Boys, or any other "improv-based" show on the air, I've got a Tower I'd like to sell you. It's right in the heart of Toronto, and it offers a fantastic view...

And KNOW THE FORMAT! A 22 minute long episode is about 25 pages long. 28 pages is too much (unless it's animation). 18 pages is too little.

And that brilliant script you wrote in Word? Send that to a potential producer and it's going to end up lining her birdcage. You need Final Draft or Movie Magic. You are not a professional screenwriter without a screenwriting program, so bite the bullet and spend the $400. Either one is fine, but FD is generally considered the industry standard.

Oh, and here's another thing you need to know. Executive Producers hire actors.

Creators/Writers hire squat. It's really great that you want to help your friends, but don't promise anything. To anybody. You're just going to piss people off when you can't deliver the goods. I often will tell an actor when I'm writing a character with them in mind. I think that's a compliment. But I don't promise parts to my friends. Ever.

Even though I adore working with my friends...

7) KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN "IN DEVELOPMENT" AND "IN PRODUCTION".

IN DEVELOPMENT - means the producers/network are interested in your project. They want to give you a bit of cash to flesh it out and write some scripts for it.

IN PRODUCTION - means that what you've written is going to be shot...as a pilot.

If the pilot is a hit, then you will be green-lit for a season, which means the network has said yes...usually for either 13 or 26 more episodes (probably 13. TV is expensive, you know...). The network will take care of promoting your project and placing it on the air. If it's successful, you will be picked up for another season. If not, make the best DVD package you can, and pray it'll be the next Freaks and Geeks...

Remember, ratings = success to networks. Critical acclaim and awards mean much less.

High ratings means lots of people are watching. Lots of people watching means networks can charge more for commercial slots. Critical acclaim and awards means that lots of TV critics are watching your show...not necessarily anyone else.

Just do the best job you can possibly do. If you get cancelled, it doesn't mean your show sucks. It probably means that you're much smarter than the average TV viewer. Take it as a compliment!

9) DON'T GET DISCOURAGED!

I know that what I've written here is daunting. That's because you're tackling a huge goal. If making TV was easy, everyone would do it. If you want to do it, then you've got a tough road ahead of you. Even if your show goes nowhere, you should be really proud that you tried.

New TV shows have a huge failure rate. But the more you fail, the more you'll know. The more you know, the more you try. The more you try, the more people you'll get to know in the industry, the more experience you'll get, and the better your next effort will be.

10) GOOD LUCK!

I hope this helps. And if your show gets picked up, and you need a writer, hook a brother up!


Jim Out!

Roncey

The other night I did one of my favorite things.

I walked up and down my street.

I live on Roncesvalles. It’s the greatest street on the whole damn planet.

I moved to Toronto about six years ago. I took two part-time jobs to stay afloat. One was at a coffee shop that had me waking up at 5:00 AM to open it. The other was a museum that had me up until midnight to lock its doors. Both paid minimum wage. I took an apartment with a clown (seriously…he was a real clown). He barely left the apartment, and seemed to delight in annoying me by making strange off-colour remarks and screaming at the television…even when it was off. He made creepy paper-mache masks and hang them on every wall in the house. We sat on furniture that the clown had rescued from the garbage on his 3 AM excursions.

My only consolation to my horrendous living arrangement was the street that it was on.

Six years ago, Roncey was just starting to live down a rather bad reputation. It used to be known as the street where you could buy heroin. There used to be a hotel at Roncey and Queen that let rooms by the ½ hour. There were plenty of companions walking the street that you could pay to share the room with. When my sister first came to visit me, she could barely contain her look of horror over where I was living. But I loved that street from the first second I saw it. In some strange way, I could see that it was turning over a new leaf. I was able to smell the change in the air. It didn’t look like much, but it had potential. It was worth taking the time to get to know.

And I did get to know it. I spent hours walking up and down that street, ducking into local delis, browsing in used bookshops, and eating in tiny restaurants. I met the locals, and eased myself into the community. I smiled at babies in strollers and petted dogs. I cracked jokes with the cashier of the hardware store (he’s a local film maker now). I found a breakfast joint where the waitress knew exactly what I wanted before I asked for it. I got my movies from a place where they’d tease you if you tried to rent Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle. I began to patronize a copy centre owned by, what very well might be, the cutest girl in the country.

And as the years past, Roncey became more well-known. I’d run into friends and co-workers on the street who had just moved to the area. They’d heard about how great it was, and they wanted to find out for themselves. In time, those of us living in the neighborhood began to refer to it as “the best kept secret in Toronto”.

Best. Street. Ever!

Now, it looks like it’s not much of a secret anymore. I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

I remember my Mom emailing me an article she read in MacLean’s, written by an author that lived on Roncesvalles. Then another writer did a profile on the back page of Canadian Geographic. The Globe and Mail did a series of photos, taken in various locations on Roncey. Last month, on a flight to Halifax, I read about Roncesvalles in Air Canada’s enRoute magazine.

It had been named the best neighborhood in Toronto.

Over the winter, a Starbucks opened at the corner of Roncey and Dundas. Further north, a massive condominium is almost completed. I used to be able to see the whole street from the railroad trestle near my apartment. Now the condo blocks most of it from view. There used to be a used parts dealer next door to the condo site. They had a sign on their window that said “Open up and say ahhh-lternator!”. Now they have a new sign…announcing that they’re closed for good, and thanking their customers for 50 years of patronage. The Revue Cinema (formerly the second oldest movie house in Toronto) has been closed for a year now. They just took down the marquee.

Lately I’ve been worried that this neighborhood…this community…is being gentrified. It bugs me that the dog-eared corners are being smoothed down, and the shady parts are being lit. I feel like Roncey’s character is slowly being washed down the gutter, in favour of something plastic and unoriginal.

I was reminded of the classic Jackie Gleason line in The Honeymooners.

“Be nice to the people you meet on the way up…because you’re going to meet them again on the way down.”

It seemed like the people that lived and worked on Roncey on the way up weren’t being treated very well.

Where would they be on it’s way down?

I don’t want my street to be another round hole. If that happens, square pegs like me will want to leave. I love this neighborhood. I don’t want to be disgusted with it. I don’t want to want to leave.

Maybe that’s the price of progress. Maybe things are changing for the better. Maybe, in another 5 years or so, I’ll walk up and down Roncesvalles and love it for all the new things that it has to offer. Maybe I should suck it up and accept the fact that things change, and change along with them.

But the other night, on my walk, I saw some things that gave me a little bit of hope. Things that convinced me that this street isn’t necessarily going to turn into just another chic bohemia-Yorkville-wanna-be.

At least not without a fight.

I peeked in the window of that Starbucks, and noticed it was completely empty, while the locally run coffee shops were filled with people. I signed a petition in my movie rental place urging the condominium to alter it’s façade, to better fit in with the look of the street. I ran into friends and co-workers who had recently moved to the neighborhood, and loved what they saw. I smiled at babies in strollers and petted dogs, and strolled on a sidewalk that was filled with people ducking into delis and eating in tiny restaurants.

And I realized that the reason why I moved here in the first place was that Roncesvalles was changing. At the time I believed that the change was for the better. Maybe I shouldn’t give up on that idea just yet.

Besides, I’m pretty sure the good things are going to stay exactly the same. The street still has potential, and it’s still worth getting to know.

I may not be able to see all of Roncey from that trestle anymore. But what little I still can see is enough to keep me convinced of one thing:

It’s still the greatest street on the whole damn planet.


Jim Out.

I Got Nothin'

Okay...I know I said I'd do some stuff about some of the old jobs that I used to have.

But I just ain't feelin' it.

So I'm not going to.

Me and my big mouth...

Anyway, I can't promise that I'll try to write more in my blog.

But I'll try to try.

Jim Out!

Jobs

Back!

I’m still pretty tired, and busy as fuck, but some of you have been griping about my repeat posts, so I thought I’d try to do a new one. Actually, I’ll try to do a few…based on the theme that I am thinking about at this exact moment.

I’m thinking about jobs.

As a middle-of-the-road Libertarian, with Anarchist leanings, I have to say that there’s a very large part of me that considers the concept of “the job” to be bullshit.

Spend a third of my life working? What the fuck? Why would I want to do that?

Human beings are relatively simple creatures, when you think about it. We only require four things to survive: Food, Water, Air, and Shelter. Are those four things so difficult to attain that we have to slave away for most of our lives, pushing buttons and doing stuff that bores the shit out of us?

I don’t think so.

But, unfortunately, human beings may be relatively simple creatures, but we have big brains. And having big brains means that we need to make things more difficult for ourselves than they need to be.

So we created a monetary system, with units that can be exchanged for goods and services. There are two ways we can attain these monetary units. One is to win the lottery. The only other way is by working.

In addition to our monetary system, somebody also came up with our deliciously Gordian social system. At the heart of this wonderful little invention is concept of status. Status means that the more monetary units you have, the more desirable you will be as a ally or mate.

Which means that if you want friends, and you wanna get laid, you gotta have a job.

So here we are.

Right now, I work at a job that I, for the most part, enjoy. Sure there’s a bit of bullshit that I have to deal with.

But show me a job that is completely bullshit free, and I’ll show you a hobby. One that probably doesn’t generate a lot of monetary units.

My theory about career success is pretty basic: Your success or failure at any given job is completely relative to the type and amount of bullshit you’re willing to deal with.

As a writer/producer, the type of bullshit I deal with is satisfactory. And the amount is (for the most part) fairly reasonable. Therefore, I like my job, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it.

But getting here was a bit tricky. It involved a lot of bullshit. And a lot of jobs.

Getting a full-time job in the entertainment industry is really, really, really fucking hard. It’s a field that is full of two types:

1) Extremely ambitious, very talented people that are vying for their rightful place on the food-chain.

2) No-talent hacks that take up valuable space.

It takes time and effort to convince the powers-that-be that you’re one of the former, and not one of the latter.

Until you do that, you’re going to be working a lot of bullshit jobs.

An actor friend of mine once put it in this perspective: A doctor or lawyer has to go through years and school to learn their craft. Artists don’t. But our “school” is the struggle to be recognized as legitimate, and get paid as such.

Would you like my dignity with that?

In my journey to full-time writerdom, I worked in a lot different jobs. Chronologically, they were:

1) A Paper Route: Self explanatory, I think
2) A Fast Food Restaurant: Cook, Cleaner, Cashier
3) A Family Restaurant: Short Order Cook
4) A Smoke Shop: Cashier
5) A National Historic Site: Costumed Interpreter
6) A Movie Theatre: Usher, Host
7) Coffee Shop #1: Barrista, Server, Cashier
8) An Internet Tutorial Company: Tutor
9) A Bakery: Delivery Driver, Cashier
10) Coffee Shop #2: Barrista, Server, Cashier
11) A Museum: Audio Visual Coordinator
12) A Record Store: Cashier
13) A Clothing Store: Cashier
14) A Toy Store: Cashier
15) A Children’s Museum: Supervisor
16) Coffee Shop #3: Barrista, Server, Cashier
17) A Hockey Museum: Events Staff, Floor Staff
18) An Art Gallery: Janitor, Mover
19) A Catering Company: Waiter

Some of these jobs completely sucked. Some were okay. Some were actually pretty cool.

And this is what the focus of my next batch of entries is going to be about.

I’ve gone over these little chapters of my working life, and chosen five that were pretty awesome and five that made me want to eat poison. The next ten blog entries will go into more detail of each B.S.J (bullshit job).

You will notice that none of these entries will deal with my time in The Spleen Jockeys, my time at the Second City, or my time at the Ceeb. This is because those were career jobs, not B.S.J’s. I actually wanted to have those jobs at the time that I was working them, so they don’t count.

Okay…speaking of jobs, I’ve got one I have to do right now. It’s time to get back to making more monetary units.

Canada’s children won’t entertain themselves, you know.

More tomorrow. But right now…back to the bullshit.




Jim Out.

Tired...

Holy fuck, I'm tired.

Work's been nuts. We shoot in 3 weeks, and I think I've still got, like, 30 scripts left to write.

I'm not stupid. I know a lot of people think that writing scripts for 1 to 5 year olds would be a really easy and fun thing to do. But when you're in the midst of writng 80 scripts with a deadline looming that is not exactly reasonable, it gets a bit difficult.

I'm not complaining. I'm lamenting. I like to think there's a difference.

Also, I was in Winnipeg over the weekend, attending a wedding of two very dear friends. There was a delightful mix of Toronto and Winnipeg peers and comrades. A wonderful time was had by all, but let's face it...weddings are draining. Emotionally and alcoholically. Plus all the flying and running around, and it's worn me right down.

And it's not over yet. I'm going back out on tour tomorrow morning. Ten days in Cape Breton and Moncton. And there's a ton of stuff I'm trying to accomplish in the one day I have at the office. This means that I probably shouldn't be writing in my blog right now.

But fuck it.

Also, I'm submitting a package to the Canadian Comedy Awards. It's for last year's Fringe Play, Plan Live from Outer Space. Now, normally I don't really go in for the whole "Pay Attention to Me!" popularity-fest of awards ceremonies, but I figured getting a nomination would be a good excuse to party and drink with my friends, so what the hell? The problem is that today is the one day I have to get everything submitted. One more thing on my already heavy plate. Oh well...it will all seem worth when I'm drunk on a train to London...

Go Plan Live! Go!

Okay, back to work. I know this isn't the greatest of entries. But owning a blog means that, from time to time, you get to bitch on it. Today is one of those days.

Being tired makes me grouchy.

Jim Out.

Talking in Transit

The TTC sucks hairy balls.

That is not shocking news to anyone who lives in Toronto. Anyone who has relied on this pathetic transit system has, at one point or other (or several points and many others) been made late for work, dates, job interviews, movies, concerts, secret rendezvous, bank heists, and many, many other appointments…all because of the Toronto Transit Commission.

I can honestly say, without hyperbole, that the city of Toronto has the absolute worst transit system in the known Universe.

Nevertheless, the TTC is something that I find myself using.

It's not my #1 mode of transport. That prize goes to my legs. Number 2 goes to my bike.

But the TTC stands pretty firm at mode #3, since I don't own a car.

I suppose I could buy a car, but I don't want to. I hate owning stuff. And a car is a big piece of annoying, expensive, worrisome stuff that I don't really feel like complicating my life with.

But I digress...

This entry could easily be a gigantic bitch-fest about the TTC, but I'm not going to bother. The fact of the matter is, no matter how many pithy quips I come up with, I will never be able to come up with a bigger joke then the one the TTC already is. So I will now leave insulting the TTC, for now, and move on to the real topic of this entry:

Talking to strangers, on the subway/streetcar/bus.

This is an activity that I rarely engage in. When I'm on a tube full of strangers, my usual response is to crack open a book, crank up my ipod, and ignore everyone. There is, however, a minority of folk who feel the need to strike up a conversation with their fellow passengers. I find this interesting. Why do they do this?

Sometimes people do it because they're lonely and they require human contact.

There's one guy on my route who must be the loneliest human being on Earth. Every single time I see him, he's sitting by himself, trying to engage other passengers in conversation.

I call him Captain Blue Shirt. Because he's always wearing the same blue shirt. Maybe that's why he's so lonely. He never changes his shirt. It smells really bad.

Sometimes they're new to Toronto, or Canada, and they're getting acquainted their new home, or new language.

That was the case with a guy I rode with a few months back. He was a pharmacist from India, and was super stoked to be living in Canada. It was really great talking to him, actually. It reminded me that I live in a pretty fucking decent place.

Sometimes they're just plain ol' crazy.

One guy that climbs on my streetcar from time-to-time is a homeless guy who calls himself "Black Jesus". A ride with him usually entails watching him pace up and down the aisle, quoting from the bible and talking about how evil white people are. He raises a few valid points, but, for the most part, I find his "All White People Are Demons" stance lacking in some key areas. I don't think Black Jesus would be willing to engage in a healthy, free-form debate about his opinions, however, so I tend to keep quiet when he gets onboard.

Sometimes, when you're riding, a person gets on that you know, but not very well.

This is the worst!

Chances are, you're going to have to spend the whole rest of your ride making small talk with this person. It's kind of dumb because, for the most part, you don't really want to talk to this person, and they don't really want to talk to you either. So you both engage in a half-assed conversation about people you mutually know, and what you've both been up to lately, when all you both really want to do is read, or listen to music, or stare out the fucking window.

There are 2 ways of dealing with the almost-stranger. The most obvious one is to pretend that you don't see them. This may be your only course of action if you're the one who's already on the streetcar, and they're the ones that are climbing on. But if you are the Johnny-come-lately, this behavior is kind of rude.

If you're the person coming on, and you see the almost-stranger already seated, than the best thing to do is to acknowledge them. Smile! Wave! Say hello! Then keep walking to a seat that's further back.

There is no shame in not picking the seat that is closest to them. Remember…they probably don't want to talk to you, either.

And then there is the most mysterious, most intriguing of transit-rider interactions.

The pick-up.

Personally, I shy away from the transit pick-up. It's really, really, really hard to do. In fact, as hard as it may be to believe ('cause let's face it…I'm a pretty handsome guy), I've only done this once. I got her number, but it probably had more to do with the fact that it was a drunken, rowdy, Saturday night ride home then any amount of charm on my part.

But a lot of guys are into romance on the Red Rocket. I've seen tons of guys hit on girls while on the TTC and, while I do admire their cajones, they rarely get far. That being said, I did witness a guy getting digits from a girl on the 504 King, a few Saturday nights ago.

In fact I even helped him out a bit.

I shouldn't have needed to. When he climbed on the streetcar, he was sporting the most potent pickup weapon ever created.

He had a dog.

Here's a very simple equation.

Guy + Dog = 98% Pick up Rate. There are few reasons for this.

First of all, dogs are adorable.

Behold! The most potent of pick-up tools!

Secondly, dogs are the ultimate icebreaker. What better way to start a conversation than to talk about the dog?

Third, dogs are a great way to break the personal space barrier. The girl my not touch you, but she will pet your dog...and that's one step closer to physical contact.

And finally, a guy with a dog is obviously not afraid of commitment. He better not be! He owns a fucking dog! That's a huge responsibility!

But I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah…

So the guy gets on the streetcar with his frickin' adorable dog and sits down across from a pretty girl who, immediately, starts petting and fussing over the dog. They get to talking, and it looks like this guy's going to make off with her number, when suddenly, he's hit with an extremely formidable obstacle.

Captain Blue Shirt gets on.

He makes a bee-line for the dog guy! He sits down in front of the guy and starts asking questions about the dog! He asks questions about the breed! He discusses grooming, food, and exercise!

All the while, repelling boy, girl, and canine alike with his horribly reeky blue shirt!

Well, gentle reader, you'll be happy to know that, on this day, old Kayak was feeling like a good citizen. I assessed the situation, practiced breathing out of my mouth, and got up to provide much needed assistance.

Sitting down beside Captain Blue Shirt, I extended my hand, introduced myself, and asked about the Leafs game. For the rest of the ride I chatted amicably with my lonely new friend. I was extremely pleased and relieved to see the dog owner punching the girl's number into his cell phone before getting off at his stop.

That's one more reason to talk to strangers on the subway/streetcar/bus.

To stop a cock-block in progress.

Of course this means that, every time Captain Blue Shirt sees me on the streetcar, he's going to come over for a conversation.

I just thought of that.

Fuck!

Dog Guy, you better marry that girl. Seriously.

Jim Out

Creepy Baby

Dear Creepy Baby,

First off, I'd like to say sorry. I probably shouldn't refer to you as "creepy". Personally, I've always found that a very insulting word. But, creepy baby, as you grow older, you will come to realize that human beings are composed of a variety of selves that we present to the many different people we encounter in our lifetime. The self that you have exposed to me, baby, is creepy. I merely communicate this fact. Please don't kill the messenger.

Secondly, I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome you to Earth. From what I've seen of you, you've only been on this planet for about a year or so. This is probably the reason why you're committing the faux pas that you are. I assure you that I take your age into account. Nevertheless there is something that I wish to communicate.

Please stop staring at me.

I live in a relatively small apartment, and while the lighting in my home is adequate, I have always preferred natural sunlight to the electrical kind. This is the reason why I like to keep my living room drapes open.

Also, you may have noticed that I own a plant. It's not much of a plant, but I like it. It's the kind of plant that you can go for days without watering, and it doesn't complain. It does, however, require sunlight. This is another reason for me to expose my living room to the outside world.

When I began to keep my drapes open, I had no idea there would be any problems. Yes, there is the giant condominium across the street, with many windows facing my home. But I was quite confident that the people who lived there had much better things to do than watch me lying on the couch, watching TV. I'm a simple man, Creepy Baby. There is really not much that I do around the house that is particularly intriguing. Even the Thai food that I occasionally order and eat while I watch movies isn't very dynamic.

But you don't share this opinion, do you Creepy Baby? Obviously not. I make this assumption based on the fact that, every Saturday and Sunday, without fail, I can see you at your window, across the street, pressed up against the glass, taking in every single detail of me lying on my couch.

Why, Creepy Baby? What is so fascinating about a 32 year old (probably hung-over) man, stretched out on a couch? What is the attraction of my slovenly countenance? What is the appeal of my flannel pj bottoms and t-shirt? It seems that, every time I settle in to watch some crappy show on Much More Music, you're tuning in to a show of your own. The Jimmy Kayak Show! Today, Jimmy welcomes a nice hot mug of coffee, and a bagel! Prepare to be fascinated as he checks in on the Surreal Life, Season Five! Gape in trepidation as he plays some music, or puts in a DVD!

I don't mind performing in front of an audience, Creepy Baby, but I'd prefer to choose the time and place.

Look, Creepy Baby, I know you're new here. Let me give you a piece of advice. There is a big, huge, wonderful world out there, just waiting to be discovered! It's a fascinating universe, filled with art, and music, and people who do much more than nurse their headaches, talk on the phone, and read books!

Or at the very least, there are other windows in your condo!

In closing, Creepy Baby, let me say thank you for this opportunity to address this issue. You will, no doubt, discover that your life will be much more pleasant if you communicate your needs and wishes to those around you. My wish is that you quit staring at me. While I appreciate your interest, your attention, as of late, has been a bit too rapt.

I wish you the best of luck in all of your endeavors,

Jimmy Kayak

Too Busy!

Today was insane.

It began with me dressed as a gigantic plush astronaut, holding up a bunch of cardboard space ships.

I then proceed to attend a script meeting, where my pieces on such enlightening topics as hide and seek, pomegranates, and vacationing lobsters were scrutinized and approved.

Then I wished a hundred or so children a very happy birthday, and declared about a hundred more to be super heroes.

Now I'm sitting amongst a gigantic pile of more tiny cardboard spaceships.

Anyway, I'm too busy to write anything today. Sorry about that. To make amends, here is a photo of an adorable puppy:

Cute little fella, isn't he?

Okay...back to work.

Jim Out.

A Boy and his Blog...

For those of you who like to keep count, this is blog number three.

I'm sure that my penchant for trading up blog locations says volumes about my issues with commitment, but I'm cool with that. The reason why I switched up again is two-fold: First, I got a snazzy domain name for myself. Second, my last blog was on myspace. And myspace totally blows.

So, here I am.

For the 27 loyal readers who used to check out my blog on myspace, my apologies. I will be repeating myself a few times up here. This is because I'm a busy guy. Also, I kind of liked some of the stuff I posted on the last blog, and I'd hate for it to go to waste.

If you're reading my blog for the first time? Hi. Welcome to Jimmykayak.com. I hope you enjoy your stay.

If you don't, I recommend taking the following steps.

1) Stop reading my blog


2) Dedicate your life to things you would enjoy doing more than reading my blog.


3) Find joy in doing the above things, which will lead to a happy and productive life.


4) Find love.

5) If the physical laws of this love allow, procreate. If not, adopt.

6) Teach your offspring all of the wisdom that you have accrued in your lifetime. This wisdom may include avoiding my blog. It may not. It's your kid. The choice is up to you.

7) Die happy and surrounded by your loved ones, knowing that you have lived your life to the fullest, made no compromises, are content with the fact that you stopped reading my blog, and that you never looked back.

Thank you for your patronage.

Jim Out.