Vandelay Industries Inc.

Yes, I know you're likely awaiting the next installment of the "Shock Wedding" (I know Mrs. Vandelay would love for me to reveal the true nature of our marriage and dispel the illusion that I am an unromantic bozo who married for the dental benefits), but you'll just have to wait a few days until my hand heals.

Feel lucky that I have no digital camera at home or you would be able to see the two caterpillars crawling across my hand. Well, at least that's what the two sets of stitches look like to me. Mrs. Vandelay thinks it looks like I have a spider trying to free itself from under my skin. Yuck.

As it turns out, I have something very closely linked to carpal-tunnel syndrome. It's called Dupuytren's Syndrome and it causes scar-tissue to build up on the sheath surrounding the tendons in my hand, rendering them un-stretchy. So instead of being all elasticky, the tendons are stiff and pull back on my fingers, resulting in a claw-like disfigurement. Very cool if it's Halloween and I needed to go as Igor, Dr. Frankenstein's assistant. Very uncool if you want to hold anything or live life pain-free.

Now, I will finish the post regarding the "Shock Wedding" eventually- don't worry it's worth the wait. And in the meantime, here is a recommendation for your summer reading.

John Fowles' novel, The Collector, is a psychological thriller that will leave you creeped out and entertained at the same time. The Silence Of The Lambs owes a lot to this novel and the movie adaptation with all-round great actor Terence Stamp is pretty entertaining as well. Check out this book. Trust me.

After nearly 3 weeks away from home, Mrs. Vandelay is finally back. This is a good thing as our anniversary is coming up real soon. In fact, as you are celebrating the first day of summer (the first day of winter for you unfortunate folks in the southern hemisphere) we will be toasting another year in the books. So, as you dance naked around the Wicker Man or whatever other pagan ritual you feign interest in as an excuse to get blottoed, raise a glass to a couple of crazy and cheap-ass schemers. What a strange trip it's been...

Part 1- Setting The Stage.

(Sometime in late May 1998- lazing around in bed)

Art: I have these 2 crowns I need done on my teeth.

Mrs. V: So, get them done.

Art: Can't afford it right now. Medical only pays half.

Mrs. V: Hey, aren't we considered common-law after a period of time? That way, our coverages will overlap.

Art: No good; it takes a year after you declare it to the insurance people. It's a shitty deal -- common-law takes a year because they don't trust you, but married people can claim literally the next day. We should just get married.

Art: I mean...that would teach those fuckers...you see where I'm going with this?

Mrs. V: You want to get MARRIED!?

Art: (Not sounding very romantic) You know, we could. We're actually common-law already under the law. We could invite a few people and have a party. It would be a lot of fun.

Mrs. V: (Not seemingly caring about Art's unromantic approach) Who should we invite? My parents will kill me if we don't invite them.

Art: I say we invite some friends and don't tell them it's a wedding. We'll tell them it's a summer B-B-Q and whoever shows up, gets a free show. I know the perfect place at my aunt's house on the beach so we'll have to invite a few relatives too I imagine. It will be worth it just to see my mother's face!

So, without an actual formal proposal, the die was set and what later became known as the "Shock Wedding" was set into motion.

Next: Part 2- The Planning.

Hey Kids!

Old Art checking in to give you the latest update on the goings on here at Vandelay Industries.

It seems like the only time I actually have time to update this thing is when Mrs. Vandelay is away. "Well, where is she?" I hear you asking. Again, she is in Vancouver updating her dope skills in the Immigration game. That's right, the last time she was over there she was learning to hurt people without leaving marks and now she is learning the techniques involved in telling people to Fuck-Right-Off without sounding like she's enjoying the process. I never really asked the Missus if it was ok to reveal her job, but what the Hell, it's not like you're likely going to spot her name-tag at the local border-crossing and scream out, "Hey, are those Vandelay Industries latex gloves? That's a conflict of interest buying those from a spouse".

Seriously, even though the media like to play off the fact that Canada is lax in their border protection, it's more about the Bejamins (or is it Bordens here in Soviet Canuckistan?) than it is the actual people or training. Trust me, these peeps stop lots of really undesirable people from crossing into the Great White North.

This news of Mrs. Vandelay leads me to my next big recommendation. I will be visiting Vancouver this Friday as Mrs. Vandelay and I are attending the Cirque Du Soleil. Quidam is the newest show to come to Vancouver and I am really looking forward to it. It will be the third time I have seen the Cirque and they blow my mind! If you think about it, they are likely the most viewed act to ever come out of Canada, and I'm including Bryan Adams, Celine Dion, Alanis Morrisette and even Loverboy! How is this possible you ask? See, the Cirque travels all over the world and they have shows that play constantly in Las Vegas and Disney World. They might just be the greatest export Canada ever had.

Oh, and the new Modest Mouse album is fantastic. Check it out.

A random correspondence (by snail-mail no less) between myself and long-time friend and latex consumer, Baron PA Choquette:

Baron Choquette,

I write to you with a constant pounding in my brain that makes thinking quite impossible, as I'm sure you can tell. My mind harkens back to those halcyon days when one could easily spend an entire day in on-pseudo-ice-fisticuffs and still manage to spew out the required eight to ten pages of brilliant refuse.

I write from my place of so-called work as my home unit is kaput and I await the delivery of my new silicon-brain. It has been a harrowing week without the said brain; I never realized how accustomed I had become to using that dammed box. I also never realized what a viscous circle the whole nuclear-wireless system is. You just buy the damned thing and the watermarks of technology change at speeds that blow my mind. I mean, fine, "buy the ticket, take the ride" is a fine motto for men of letters like us, but at what point do you just have to say, "fuck this bullshit, I'm likely getting cancer from the massive rads being dosed out and I could being sitting on some deck by the ocean drinking a fine glass of red"? Don't get me wrong, I am no Luddite, but this is that line drawn in the silicon that a man should not cross. Savvy Baron?

How is your lovely wife and when are you coming over to the not-so-Emerald-isle? The salubrious climate here makes for a most damnable dry and brown summer. Our casa is open to you whenever you want and we do not permit the hair-chokers to venture into the spare room which has been refinished since you were last over. My blood is literally in the paint, along with no doubt several ounces of my sweat. I think you will find it most pleasing as it resembles a 1930s gentleman's smoking room.

I should likely end this ramble before I waste too much time and start to drool over the keys. Again, let me stress the need to be diligent and indeed vigilant against those forces that threaten our success and happiness.

Yours in brotherhood,

Dr. Art Vandelay

Well Kids,

It's another beautiful day here in the Capital City, which reminds me of that great Simpsons episode. However, my capital city is a bit damp today with drizzle, although I still made it downtown to have coffee with a friend.

I guess most of you bloggers have heard of, or have even signed up with, Google's gmail. Old Art signed up today and the Gig of storage seems like a lot now, but so did the 30 megs of hard-drive space my 286 had back in the day. Still, it's better than the other offers and if I had the cash, I'd buy me some Google shares -- that's if they actually were for sale yet. Some people are going to make big biscuits before that bubble bursts.

Now, how many of you knew that Art was a big jazz fan (Mrs. Vandelay, you can put your hand down). So for that reason, I'm going to recommend to you a fantastic album by a recently dead guy. I am talking about Dave Brubek's revolutionary Time Out. You'll know the hit (can a jazz musician other than Diana Krall have a hit?) Take Five, but I think you'll enjoy the feel of the whole album. Again, I owned this on vinyl the first time around and a CD just recently came out that does the album justice. If you don't buy it, you'll likely have to listen to Kenny G in heaven, as I understand God is a big jazz fan and will put Kenny on if you can't suggest something better; I guess God's just like Art -- a passive-aggressive asshole.

The other thing I can recommend, I guess, is another blog that deals with things Victorian. Now, I'm not talking from my city of Victoria, I'm talking about things from the period of Queen Victoria (1837-1901). I have to admit, I am a bit of a history geek and I thought this would be a cool site. Don't get me wrong, it is a cool site, but it's more risque than I thought.

Turns out the blog is for fans of Victorian saucy pictures. I reckon porn has been around as long as people (check out some of those cave-paintings in Art History 101) and photographic porn since the mid-19th Century when the camera became a common item. Either way, there are some really artistic pictures and some that are not really Victorian at all (although the 1920s flapper look can be nice too). And, it seems at least %50 of the people who post are women (or men pretending to be women interested in Victorian smut...)

Art or smut (or both)- you decide.

Now, go back to the chilin' or the illin' or whatever you young people do. In the meantime, here's another few words of wisdom from someone far more articulate than me, "The guilty get no sleep, In the last slow hours of morning, Experience is cheap, I should've listened to the warning"

Hey kids!

Big news- Mrs. Vandelay is in Vancouver for a week learning how to hurt/kill people while leaving no marks or evidence. Excellent talent to possess. Seriously, she is undergoing training on how to subdue people and incapacitate them. It's part of her job, which I likely shouldn't tell you too much about as it would likely get me in trouble with the government -- not to mention Mrs. Vandelay.

Things at the latex foundry are heating up so to speak and it's getting quite busy. I thought I had some new talent hired, but it fell through so if you know of a person into latex, drop me a line.

My recommendation today is called Found Magazine. Again, you kids probably all know about Found, but I recently discovered it while watching The Late Show with David Letterman.

Essentially, Found is just that -- found letters, bits of paper, pictures etc. are gathered by various people around the globe and are submitted to the mag. Some are cute, some are weird and some are simply unfathomable! What I can say about it, is that it is a great idea and doesn't cost the young dude who started it all any money. He's likely rolling in the Benjamins, but still dresses like some 3rd year university student who hasn't chosen a major yet.

Cool story, so check it out.

This is Art, checking out for now and leaving you with the following snippet, "He's reading Balzac, knocking back prozac, It's a helping hand that makes you feel wonderfully bland, Oh it's the centuries remedy, For the faint at heart, a new start"

Today's post is, mainly, for my good friend and former co-worker Bobbie. It is a "Honku" and it seems Bobbie has a lot more opportunities to write them than I do. I guess maybe road-rage just comes naturally to her. In case you've been living in the cardboard box a fridge comes in, a Honku is like a Japanese, Haiku poem (3 lines; 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables) only with the subject matter pertaining to a, usually bad, driving experience.

As I mentioned in my last post, Art drives a classic Honda scooter; this is not the little beep-beep 50cc scooter like Mrs. Vandelay drives, but is a 250cc scoot suitable for highway driving. Well, a few months ago someone here in Victoria insisted on driving with their left-hand-turn light on for at least 5 km (3 miles for you people stuck in the 20th Century).

In honour of that horrible old-man driver (yes, I established this fact when I passed him), here is my first and hopefully only Honku:

Blink, blink, make me think.
Objects may appear closer.
My boot up your ass.

Until next time this is Art saying, "You smile like the cartoon, tooth for a tooth. You said that irony was the shackles of youth"