On one of my regular searches through the alternative news-wires I stumbled upon this fantastic photograph, courtesy of today's NY Times. It's a publicity shot from the original production of Hair at the Public Theatre in New York (where else!?). It's also very much changed the mood of my day...
It's cheeky, and naively political in a 60s sort of way (not that I'm knocking the 60s!), and this evening it has become my little corner of escapism as the world spirals ever-more out of the frame that used to be called "SANE".
I look at this picture, and everything somehow seems better.
It makes me wonder whether we could all use a little more "back to basics" sixties-style L-O-V-E, featuring the transformative power of adorable and tastefully naked people behind cardboard signs (in black and white, of course!).
It's become apparent to me that too much righteous indignation is, well, too much to live with all the time. Sometimes you just have to throw off your clothes, grab a sign and sing anthems about love, war and politics in a celebration of subversion (as opposed to a hammering of serious good intentions).
So I'm turning my computer off, pouring myself a drink and cranking the Broadway recording of Hair tonight, while thinking thoughts of tastefully naked people behind cardboard signs that make a statement with four letter words, none of which spell R-O-V-E or B-U-S-H.
Let the sunshine in...(it's summer after all!).
If there's one day when the sometimes starched and straight-laced pleasant valley lets down it's collective hair, cuts loose, and goes wild with Bacchanalian-grade national pride, it's July 1, Canada Day, when Ottawa forgets to be quiet. Mind you, I was in the mood for something less than the over-the-top-red-and-white-mania on offer downtown, and so found a happy middle-ground in my more intimate celebrations of "Canada's Day". The afternoon into evening was spent in the mellowing backyard BBQ world; notwithstanding two flash downpours, it was a mojito-licious burger-flipping good time. It was a low-key affair, mostly patio furniture and home-grown mint, which was exactly the best way to celebrate after such a tumultuous year for our great nation: the calm after the storm, after the storm, after the storm... Of course the real thrill of a C-Day in the valley, and the holy grail of our national celebration, is the magnificent fireworks display on Parliament Hill - something my band of backyard patriots and I managed to witness with some strategic parking, another backyard home base downtown, and a stealthy trek along the canal into the heart of the party. Yesterday may go down as the best 'fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants' Canada Day I've ever had, because though we were making up our gameplan at every turn (most of which amounted to little more than "maybe I'll have another beer"), we still avoided overpriced drinks, the mad crush of the crowds, congested traffic and limited parking, and finally managed to find a great spot on the Laurier Bridge from which to take in the fire-in-the-sky-show before one last round of backyard beers and conversation. A deep thank you goes out to my backyard hosts, and the good people at the LCBO and Beer Store, without whom the day would not have been nearly so "happy". Oh, and on another note: am I seeing things, or was Paul Martin sitting in the audience sporting a bright red mini cowboy hat for the opening hours of the downtown stage show? Is this supposed to help the problem of Western alienation?? Maybe on Canada Day all can be forgiven, and it really doesn't matter as long as nobody mentions the dreaded 'E word'.
On one of my regular searches through the alternative news-wires I stumbled upon this fantastic photograph, courtesy of today's NY Times. It's a publicity shot from the original production of Hair at the Public Theatre in New York (where else!?). It's also very much changed the mood of my day...
