Sensible shoes everywhere

Went to a lecture last evening by Margaret MacMillan, the famous historian who wrote 'Paris 1918', Canadian-born, now lives in England. Ottawa's intelligencium were there en-masse. You get the picture. I thought I was at the Art's Centre -- all sensible shoes and hideous hair. You know, if you are going to let your haircut get untidy and straggly, at least keep it clean. The number of backs of heads I had to face sporting stringy, greasy bobs was too much. And if the shoes are "comfy", let's not worry if they are better suited to camping. Let's not worry they don't match your sequined jacket. Let's not worry if your mountain-equipment-coop-vest and cargo pants clash a little with your hiking shoes. In fact, let's not worry about how we look at all, as long as everyone knows we are so brilliant we can't be bothered to take time to have a weensy peek in the mirror before heading out to display our brilliance.

Her talk was very good, but being such a shallow person, I kept thinking about how much she looked like Martha Stewart. Really, right down to the hair that kept flopping into her face. Her accent was very mid-Atlantic -- you know, clipped from lips that barely moved -- kind'a like Margaret Atwood's, although Margaret takes the cake and frosting for hers. How a girl from Toronto speaks as does Margaret is quite a trick. And to think she can actually keep it up without falling into the occasional TO-ism, or dropping a "g" here or there.

I am impressed with Tony Blair's tell-all autobiography. Not that I have read it, but I have read several reviews and he admits to bearing the human weaknesses we all have -- like failing his family now and then and boozing too much. Although, how a couple of drinks before dinner and two glasses of wine now and then qualify as "too much" beats me? Then again, my family doctor of 30 years tells me that all doctors are instructed in medical school to double the amount their patients admit to drinking, so maybe that's what Blair's doing. (Remember that the next time you are lying to your physician about how much you imbibe.)

While dusting the CDs the other day -- a task I turn to every hundred years -- I came across a Led Zeplin box set. Didn't even know we had one? So, I cranked a few tunes and was immediately transported back via such greats as 'Your time is gonna come', 'Stairway to Heaven' and 'Ramble on'. G-d they are great still. I actually saw Zeplin live at the old Masonic Temple on Yonge street -- right across from Canadian Tire -- before they were famous, back in the late '60s. Robert Plant was beautiful then. Remind me to blog about also seeing The Doors, Sly and the Family Stone, Alice Cooper, John Lennon........to name-drop a few..........back in the day at Varsity Stadium. And all in one day. Or did I already blog this? If not, I will.

Decided to also play a little Gordon Lightfoot -- another guy so talented it stuns. A few years ago we were at an alumni dinner in Montreal and I was seated next to this still-gorgeous guy I chose to chat with aggressively (as opposed to the fat bore on my right, who reminded me of me, fat and boring). I mean, why not bask in someone else's glory!? Turns out he was one of Lightfoot's guitar players in the late sixties. Lightfoot was famous even then and the tales Henry told of their "adventures" were riveting. "Lurid" came to mind, although that fantasy was definitely made up in my imagination as I thought, "I wonder what happened after that show!" The 'Railroad Trilogy' and 'The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald' are classics you still never tire of. Henry (can't recall his last name) said Lightfoot was always writing songs, even on the golf course the odd time they hacked one. "He always had a little pad and pencil and we had to stop playing all the time while he wrote something down." Can't really imagine Gordon Lightfoot playing golf, can you?