January 17, 2005

old stories, being tired, don’t listen

I remember a few years ago someone sent me a zipped .doc file of Salinger uncollected stories, but not having good enough print-power I had only managed to go through a few, on the computer screen. The inverted forest left the most vivid impression, and I still consider Hapworth 16, 1924 to be Salinger’s most humourous work, but then I just forgot about it, until today where a fresh new link was found on the link-o-matic. Hurrah for the wonderful distraction! It began in the midst of children’s laughter, with their laughter will it end.

So my laserprinter is humming nonstop, as I run back and forth, assembling and stapling neat little piles of these old war stories. My boss looks at me through the window, rubbing his hands and smiling. He must be very happy to not see me napping under my desk, or sticking various instruments into coworkers eardrums, for a change. Candidates for personality assessments haven’t exactly been taking the office by storm lately. But why,I wonder! We have all these new tools! And they are very sharpened! Mm.. perhaps I am scaring clients away, brandishing my bloodstained money stick with such exuberance.

I have had random tidbits of songs in my head all weekend, so much so in fact, that one would think the neverending SAQ workers strike(SAQ = Société des Alcools du Québec, government-owned liquor stores) has just ended. Sadly, it hasn’t, and from the latest news, it seems like it never will. Deprived of SAQ, one has to make do with cheap wine from overheated dépanneurs, a perilous experience that can nevertheless be enhanced with a pinch of sugar and a previous burning-numbing of tastebuds with very hot coffee or a couple of 3 months old cigarettes. Mm. So despite the SAQ strike, songs have filled my head all weekend. I don’t remember them very well though. Beginning to see the light by the Velvet Underground, as we entered our new little favourite hang-out. And Electrelane as we exited. So good. Then in the depth of the night, Gilles Vigneault’s fantomatic presence, singing with large gestures and oppressing high collar, brought back to me all these old ballads my grandmother used to die for — my love we are neither beauteous nor true! die a very sharp death, that I fo-ooo-llow you…

well I would have try to finish this entry and make a little sense but it is now 5 o’cl

Posted by nathalie at 05:00 PM

April 04, 2004

La Dictée des Amériques

If I could establish in just a few words my peaceful childhood as a spelling bee champion, collecting on shelves the handheld water games I received as trophies, the smooth and odd resistance of the push button, which slowly propulsed hooks on a dolphin’s nose, or little balls in a whale’s mouth, because one has to include calming recreation from her spelling bee champ routine - well, it has now been established. You might think my spelling abilities all went downhill from there, if you have been a reader of this page since yesterday.

Still every year, I feel quivers of anticipation for La Dictée des Amériques. It is a french tradition that can be traced back to immemorial times, an event that my friends and I wouldn’t miss for the world. You only need to fill up bowls of Humpty-Dumpty chips, glasses of orange soda, and some sort of handkerchief to wipe off potato chips crumbs from your greasy fingers as you take along the dictation from the TV host. Such fun!

Writer Gaétan Soucy elaborated this year’s edition. Of course, it promised to be filled to the brim with traps, neologisms, faux-amis, and infuriation. It usually end in tears, but it is a tradition; families gather around the television, throw ballpoint caps at each other, then we all go make up at the sugarshack. I tell you, it is much fun, really.

So today, half an hour before the TV5 rediffusion, I decided to ring up the best people in this city, my friends K. and K., trying to entice with promises of coffee-baileys. But I got an unanimous “Uuuurggh nooo not this year…”. I know it sucks that the whole thing starts at 8:30 AM. “I do not like your tone!”, I said, but they had already hung up. So I went to sit in front of the television, and soon fell asleep, as the soothing sounds of the theme song rolled in.

Posted by nathalie at 11:54 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack