"If you believed, they put a man on the moon, man on the moon".

It's not always easy to be in a relationship with a geek, but I have to say that Karli has been an accommodating and flexible partner, one who has been more than willing to participate in things like visits to the Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame in Seattle or side trips to photograph giant robots in Japan.

However, I was a little apprehensive when I suggested that I was interested in going to see ex-astronaut Chris Hadfield perform with the Victoria Symphony at the end of March. It somehow struck me as being above and beyond the call of duty to expect that she would be interested in joining me.  To my extreme pleasure, she instantly expressed her eagerness for a weekend away on Vancouver Island that would culminate in attending Commander Hadfield's symphonic performance.  Tickets have been purchased, hotel reservations made, and we're looking forward to a fun little getaway next month.

All that being said, I'm a little curious as to the actual content of the show.  Presumably it will highlight songs from his 12-cut album, Songs from a Tin Can, but even with an orchestral backup, that's only about 40 minutes, and the performance is slated to run from 8-10 pm.

The description of the event says that Commander Hadfield "will be singing, playing his guitar and telling stories about his time as an astronaut and is joined by the VS performing space-themed music."  "Space-themed music" certainly opens the door to a wide variety of fairly epic Hollywood movie scores for the orchestra - John Williams' Star Wars theme, Thus Spake Zarathustra from 2001, and so on - but I wonder if Chris Hadfield covers any pop songs other than the well-known version of David Bowie's Space Oddity that he recorded on the International Space Station?

Even if the show is called Rocket Man, it would be a very confident person* who would perform that particular Elton John hit with the spectre of William Shatner's version looming in the background.  Deep Purple's Space Truckin' really isn't Hadfield's style, and Peter Schilling's Major Tom seems a bit derivative after covering Bowie.  Bif Naked's Spaceman?  Cygnus X-1 by Rush?**  I think I've seen a video of a Hadfield version of the Beatles' Across the Universe, so that's probably part of his non-album repertoire.

Probably not Man on the Moon by REM, though - I don't think that a retired astronaut would approve of the chorus.

- Sid
 

* On the other hand, based on all evidence I think it's safe to say that Chris Hadfield would classify as a very confident person, so who knows.

** Do people actually cover Rush? I'm sure that there are several tribute bands working their way through small town bars in Northern Ontario, but it's difficult to imagine, say, Adele deciding to reinterpret Spirit of Radio for her next album.

Geekmas 2016: The System Works.

This seems a little harsh....

A somewhat delayed wrap-up (no pun intended) to the 2016 holiday season this year, due to equally delayed shipping for a couple of my seasonal gifts. However, shipping glitches aside, I have to say that this year was one of the most successful in terms of people reading the wish list that I had posted here, and then following through on the suggestions. (Many additional thank-yous to my girlfriend* Karli for managing this process via her blog and ensuring that there was no duplication in selecting gifts from the list.)

On the other side of the coin, it was also most definitely the least successful year for shipping as well. As it turned out, the quondam Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame (now MoPop) doesn't ship outside of the United States, which immediately took the Star Trek movie posters out of contention as possible gifts. (How strange that an institution that deals with themes involving all of time and space would refuse to ship to Canada.)  Alternative Star Trek posters didn't trickle in until early January.  I also ended up with two copies of Naomi Novik's Uprooted just because my benefactor received two of them, for whatever reason.

However, the most impressive shipping gaffe involves my workplace gift exchange. I received an IOU from my Secret Santa (AKA my office mate Bill), who was mortified by the absence of a shipment containing my presents as the 25th drew near. As January wore on, he became increasingly embarrassed by this continued lack of fulfillment.  He harassed the shippers, terrorized his postie, and finally arranged for the order to be re-sent.  Shortly after that, a package arrived on his doorstep, almost a full month after Christmas and almost two months after his original order - with a postal label that explained everything. (Well, the delay at least.)

I think that if a package leaves Connecticut with Vancouver as its destination, Sweden is probably the long way round, even by the convoluted standards of international postal shipping.  Now let's see if the replacement shipment takes the same route.

Once everything was in hand, it was certainly an impressive haul:  in addition to Uprooted, I received Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace, Ian McDonald's Luna: New Moon, and Karen Memory by Elizabeth Bear, which reads surprisingly like a well-written fan entry into Cherie Priest's American steampunk Clockwork Century series.

On the video side, three excellent episodes of Doctor Who - The King's Demons, with Peter Davison, Tom Baker in The Stones of Blood, and The Moonbase, a fascinating partial Patrick Troughton episode with existing audio only for two of the chapters, and the missing video filled in with animation. Part of Bill's gift was a beautifully transferred Blu-ray edition of The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Karli gave me a long desired copy of The Day of the Triffids**.  Amazon.ca gift cards allowed me to purchase the entire run of Star Trek: The Original Series on Blu-ray, along with Star Trek: Beyond and X-Men: Apocalyse in digital and Blu-ray formats.

 

The most unexpected choice from my list would be the Halo UNSC M6 blaster, which I included on a whim but never expected to receive. It's surprisingly well made for a child's toy, and feels sturdy and nicely sized for an adult grip. But forget using it on Jaq the Cat, I'd be reluctant to aim this thing at a person - it's rated to shoot the supplied rubber-tipped darts 70 feet, which means that it has quite a punch in the ten to fifteen foot range. All in all, a much appreciated addition to my science fiction armoury - thanks, Karli!  And thanks to everyone else who read my list of suggestions, and followed through so considerately and generously.

Damn...now I have to come up with a new list...

- Sid
 

* My gorgeous girlfriend Karli, to be completely accurate.

** Full disclosure:  as far as I can tell, there's only one extant DVD or Blu-ray edition of this movie, and to be honest, it's not a fabulous transfer.  Which doesn't make me any less pleased to have received it, but it's sad that they didn't do a better job.

"Fine and strong and simple."

Glancing back, they saw a small cloud of dust, with a dark centre of energy, advancing on them at incredible speed, while from out the dust a faint ‘Poop-poop!’ wailed like an uneasy animal in pain. Hardly regarding it, they turned to resume their conversation, when in an instant (as it seemed) the peaceful scene was changed, and with a blast of wind and a whirl of sound that made them jump for the nearest ditch, It was on them! The ‘Poop-poop’ rang with a brazen shout in their ears, they had a moment’s glimpse of an interior of glittering plate-glass and rich morocco, and the magnificent motor-car, immense, breath-snatching, passionate, with its pilot tense and hugging his wheel, possessed all earth and air for the fraction of a second, flung an enveloping cloud of dust that blinded and enwrapped them utterly, and then dwindled to a speck in the far distance, changed back into a droning bee once more.

Toad sat straight down in the middle of the dusty road, his legs stretched out before him, and stared fixedly in the direction of the disappearing motor-car. He breathed short, his face wore a placid satisfied expression, and at intervals he faintly murmured ‘Poop-poop!’ .

Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows 

Karli and I are currently in the final stages of tactical planning for a trip to Disneyland for her birthday next week.  As part of the process, Karli has been going through the various rides, attractions and activities available at the park and dividing them up based on the following criteria: things that she really wants to do; things we could do; and things which fall below the threshold of interest* for adults.

This list is not as self-evident as it would seem - there are some entries in the first category which many people might well consider to belong solidly in the third group.  However, Karli has a strongly nostalgic bias for our visit to Anaheim, and as such there are activities that she wants to do based on her youthful memories of them rather than their adult appeal. (Which in my mind is a completely valid approach -I'm a big fan of reliving childhood.)

One of the selections which came up as part of this process was Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, which premiered at the park's opening in 1955 but received a facelift in 1983. When it was suggested as a preference, my first question was, "Does it go 'poop poop'?"

Karli lowered her iPad Mini and looked at me quizzically.

"Does it what?"

"Go 'poop poop'."

"Why in the world would it go poop poop?"

At this point, I went to the bookcase and pulled out my worn copy of The Wind in the Willows for a brief dissertation on the foundations of Toad's ill-fated obsession with motor cars, as seen in the opening quote.

Written by British author Kenneth Grahame in 1908, The Wind in the Willows is part of the great body of Edwardian children's literature. Beatrix Potter first introduces The Tale of Peter Rabbit in 1902, J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan debuts on stage in 1904, E. Nesbit's The Railway Children is published in 1906, and Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden in 1911.  (In the interests of Canadian content, Anne of Green Gables, by Lucy Maud Montgomery, makes its appearance before the public eye in 1908.)

The Wind in the Willows tells the story - or more accurately the stories - of a mismatched quartet of animal companions:  the Mole, a naive but earnest visitor to the world aboveground; his more experienced guide the Water Rat, who lives in a burrow by the river; the Badger, a gruff, respected and somewhat feared senior member of the woodland community, and the Toad, the egotistical and somewhat scatterbrained inheritor of Toad Hall.

The book is intensely episodic, ranging widely from the broad comedy of Toad's mishaps and adventures to the lyricism of the Water Rat's encounter with the Sea Rat, the unexpected mysticism of chapter entitled "The Piper At The Gates of Dawn" and the simple heartfelt nostalgia of the Mole's desire to see his old burrow once again when he catches its scent.

I first read The Wind in the Willows when I was about 20.  My then girlfriend owned a copy, and one evening when I was looking for something to read, my eye fell upon it in the bookcase as a recognized title. I started to read, and fell in love with it instantly.

Since then, The Wind in the Willows has been one of the great quiet foundations of my life. Reading the poetry of its text has calmed me when my spirit has been troubled, and comforted me after nightmares. In times of contentment, it has warmed me and satisfied me.  Like the Mole, I am "bewitched, entranced, fascinated" - taken out of my life and shown a different world through Grahame's descriptions of simple things: sunlight on water, a welcoming light in the darkness, good food and the company of good friends, and the whispering of the wind through the willows.

- Sid

* Or seat size.