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Last night, possibly spurred by last night’s discovery of my old community college diploma in radio journalism, I had a dream in which I became a freelance reporter for the CBC, specialising in the Montreal arts and culture scene.
However, because I graduated in 1992, my technical skills were out of date. While younger, hipper, better-looking reporters rushed around me with their MacBooks, I was trying to find a shoulder strap for the portable reel-to-reel tape recorder that I found in the CBC’s basement. I was an ace tape editor back in the day.
Apparently, all of CBC’s arts reporters were competing with each other so we were all sent to a media event where some unidentified artist was making an announcement of some kind. When I arrived, the younger reporters started saying how they admired my retro style but I couldn’t persuade them that this was the only way I knew how to report (because cassette tapes hadn’t occurred to me).
Sometimes it’s good to change a career but sometimes it’s good to stay where you know what you’re doing.
And in other news
Watched a little of the Junos last night. Still not sure why Russell Peters has become as huge as he is. He’s funny for about two minutes and I liked his little Bollywood dance entrance but then he repeats these jokes for an hour: “I ate French fries for lunch today which is funny, because I’m Indian.”
Still Other News
Attention Dorval Residents:
Dropping off your busted-ass TV set at the local recycling bins is NOT recycling. And probably not legal.
The Youngling has bronchiolitus and his mum has sinusitus although both seem to be on the mend. But if you’re lucky, Toronto, we’ll be bringing these exciting viruses to your town this Friday. We’ll be hooking up with some old friends and celebrating all things British. And drinking beer.
Except for the Youngling.
He likes whisky.