We Don't Want To Murder You. We Just Want Candy

It was our first Halloween in our new house.

Actually, only partly true.  It was the first Halloween for my wife and son.  Our new house is the house I grew up in, so I've had probably two decades worth of Halloweens in the house. (We bought my parent's house and moved into it in September)

But for the sake of simplicity, let's call it our first Halloween in our new house.

We were told, by my parents, to expect about 25 trickertreaters, and sure enough, we had maybe 30 before the 8pm curfew.  (there is an 8pm curfew, right?)

And two more after the curfew.  Well-after the curfew.

About 11:50pm, as I'm just about ready to go to bed (everyone else except the cats had already retired to their bedrooms), our front doorbell rings.  Now, if you're like me, you don't like doorbells to ring around midnight, and you don't like middle-of-the-night phone calls. So, I nervously approach the front door.  I see two figures standing on the doorstep, both dressed in black cloaks, and both wearing white full-face masks.  One was tall and thin, the other shorter and squat.

"Trick or Treat", says the taller one.  He speaks with a slow, deep voice. Kind of slurred, but it didn't sound drunk-slurred.  Just creepy-slurred. Anyway, I didn't recognize it.

"Sorry", I say.  "Too late."

"C'mon, trick or treat", he says.  There is no humour or levity to his voice.  To me, it sounds ominous.

"No way, boys."  I instantly regretted the "boys", because it sounded fake and desperate. I wanted to maintain a detached coolness to the whole affair, and didn't think this "boys" was helping me achievie my goal.

"Trick or treat. We want some candy"

"You gotta leave now.  You're not getting anything."  Strong and emphatic.  Not a hint of the scaredy-cat heart-thumping I was experiencing inside.

At this point, a few things enter my brain.  One is that these two guys are decoys, and the real threat (yes, I was feeling threatened) had already entered through the back door.  Did I lock the back door?  I look behind me, half-expecting to be hit by a blunt object.  But, of course, nobody was there.  Two, is the idea that both of them were about to pull bats out from under their cloaks and break the windows and enter and do who-knows-what.  The movie "Funny Games" suddenly appeared in my thoughts and my brain kind of peed itself.  Three, is the question "Are they friends of my son?" and simultaneously realizing I don't know them.  None of these thoughts did anything to negate my growing nervousness, nor quash my ever-rapidly-increasing heart beat.

"We want candy."  Only the tall, thin one was speaking.  This only added to my anxiety.

"You're not getting anything.  You have to leave now."

And this next sentence was the sentence that took this whole experience to a new level of freaky for me.

"We don't want to murder you.  We just want candy."

You'd have to hear it to understand just how creepy and awful and passively threatening it was. My first thought was "We don't want to murder you" doesn't necessarily mean "we won't be murdering you".  It just means they don't "want" to murder you, but they will, if they don't get candy.

"Okay, I'm calling the police."

A few more moments of more of the same lack of ground-gaining from either party.  They insisting on getting candy, and me insisting on this being enough now.

Then they leave, and walk down the driveway.  I watch them amble off across the street and into the yard of a neighbour.  I go and get my cell-phone, ready to dial if I see anything untoward.  I may have actually thought the word "untoward" in my brain at that moment.  I wondered if this event would warrant a 911 call or should I call another number?  What would that other number be?

They come back to the street and walk up to another neighbour's house, walk up to their veranda - I ready to call 911, even if it didn't warrant ti - and then the tall one picked up something off the veranda and walked back to the street.  They start back toward my house.

I am so ready to call 911.  i see he has a pumpkin.  A good sized pumpkin.  "Okay, it's going through one of our windows" I think. I brace myself for this.

But then, at the end of the driveway, he lifts the pumpkin over his head and throws it onto our pavement.  It breaks into pieces.  They wander off, up the street.

I watch them until I can't see them anymore.  Then I watch them for another couple of minutes.

Then I go and check the back door.  It was locked.

Then I go to bed and try to get my heart to stop beating, and feel kind of embarrassed for having my heart beating so much at what turned out to be a non-event.

Happy Halloween!

We Don't Want To Murder You. We Just Want Candy

It was our first Halloween in our new house.

Actually, only partly true.  It was the first Halloween for my wife and son.  Our new house is the house I grew up in, so I've had probably two decades worth of Halloweens in the house. (We bought my parent's house and moved into it in September)

But for the sake of simplicity, let's call it our first Halloween in our new house.

We were told, by my parents, to expect about 25 trickertreaters, and sure enough, we had maybe 30 before the 8pm curfew.  (there is an 8pm curfew, right?)

And two more after the curfew.  Well-after the curfew.

About 11:50pm, as I'm just about ready to go to bed (everyone else except the cats had already retired to their bedrooms), our front doorbell rings.  Now, if you're like me, you don't like doorbells to ring around midnight, and you don't like middle-of-the-night phone calls. So, I nervously approach the front door.  I see two figures standing on the doorstep, both dressed in black cloaks, and both wearing white full-face masks.  One was tall and thin, the other shorter and squat.

"Trick or Treat", says the taller one.  He speaks with a slow, deep voice. Kind of slurred, but it didn't sound drunk-slurred.  Just creepy-slurred. Anyway, I didn't recognize it.

"Sorry", I say.  "Too late."

"C'mon, trick or treat", he says.  There is no humour or levity to his voice.  To me, it sounds ominous.

"No way, boys."  I instantly regretted the "boys", because it sounded fake and desperate. I wanted to maintain a detached coolness to the whole affair, and didn't think this "boys" was helping me achievie my goal.

"Trick or treat. We want some candy"

"You gotta leave now.  You're not getting anything."  Strong and emphatic.  Not a hint of the scaredy-cat heart-thumping I was experiencing inside.

At this point, a few things enter my brain.  One is that these two guys are decoys, and the real threat (yes, I was feeling threatened) had already entered through the back door.  Did I lock the back door?  I look behind me, half-expecting to be hit by a blunt object.  But, of course, nobody was there.  Two, is the idea that both of them were about to pull bats out from under their cloaks and break the windows and enter and do who-knows-what.  The movie "Funny Games" suddenly appeared in my thoughts and my brain kind of peed itself.  Three, is the question "Are they friends of my son?" and simultaneously realizing I don't know them.  None of these thoughts did anything to negate my growing nervousness, nor quash my ever-rapidly-increasing heart beat.

"We want candy."  Only the tall, thin one was speaking.  This only added to my anxiety.

"You're not getting anything.  You have to leave now."

And this next sentence was the sentence that took this whole experience to a new level of freaky for me.

"We don't want to murder you.  We just want candy."

You'd have to hear it to understand just how creepy and awful and passively threatening it was. My first thought was "We don't want to murder you" doesn't necessarily mean "we won't be murdering you".  It just means they don't "want" to murder you, but they will, if they don't get candy.

"Okay, I'm calling the police."

A few more moments of more of the same lack of ground-gaining from either party.  They insisting on getting candy, and me insisting on this being enough now.

Then they leave, and walk down the driveway.  I watch them amble off across the street and into the yard of a neighbour.  I go and get my cell-phone, ready to dial if I see anything untoward.  I may have actually thought the word "untoward" in my brain at that moment.  I wondered if this event would warrant a 911 call or should I call another number?  What would that other number be?

They come back to the street and walk up to another neighbour's house, walk up to their veranda - I ready to call 911, even if it didn't warrant ti - and then the tall one picked up something off the veranda and walked back to the street.  They start back toward my house.

I am so ready to call 911.  i see he has a pumpkin.  A good sized pumpkin.  "Okay, it's going through one of our windows" I think. I brace myself for this.

But then, at the end of the driveway, he lifts the pumpkin over his head and throws it onto our pavement.  It breaks into pieces.  They wander off, up the street.

I watch them until I can't see them anymore.  Then I watch them for another couple of minutes.

Then I go and check the back door.  It was locked.

Then I go to bed and try to get my heart to stop beating, and feel kind of embarrassed for having my heart beating so much at what turned out to be a non-event.

Happy Halloween!

Letter To My 16 Year Old Self

Saw this Dear Me Celebrity Extracts on The Guardian website, and thought I’d give it a go.  Not the Charlottetown The Guardian, but the British The Guardian.

Dear Robert,
It’s you, from the year 2011.  You’re now over 45 years old.  For the most part, only your Mom and someone named Linda call you Robert anymore.  Now, people call you “The Situation”. (This is a joke that you won’t understand until you get to be my age.  And even then, you won’t find it that funny.  Nobody calls you The Situation.  The Situation is, obviously, a name nobody will ever be called).  No, most everyone calls you “Rob”.  For some reason, you decide to drop the “ert” in your first year of university.
So, other than telling you about your name-shortening (which I just did), I’m going to speak in generalizations so that the time-line doesn’t get altered too much, because I’m pretty content with the place I’m at right now, and don’t want to mess that up too much.
So, the first thing to know is this:  You turn out pretty good, I think.  Got a few issues to work out, but who doesn’t.

In no particular order:

- In a couple of years, if you find yourself hemming and hawing about it, GO to that Doug & The Slugs concert.  Won’t say why, exactly, but it turns out pretty good for you, long-term.

- The biggest piece of advice I can give you - and this may fuck everything up for me/us in 2011 - is for you to be more forthcoming with speaking your opinion.  Don’t let your shyness influence who you are. Speak out and become more engaged.  You’ll soon be going to a party with a few friends at a cottage - it’s the same party where you discover the awesomeness of putting peanut butter on hot dogs - and, I implore you, don’t be so afraid to talk to the girls that are there.

- I know you have no expectation or even desire for this right now, but you’re going to make a pretty decent number of people laugh over the years. In this regard, I ask of you this: maintain perspective.  Don’t let anything go to your head.

- There will come a night when you and a friend from university go out, with the intention of drinking, partying, etc.  When that night arrives, I implore you... DO NOT drink so much tequila so quickly.  Otherwise, your night will end at 8:45, and you will have discovered that vomit ruins bibles.

- Don’t stop playing tennis.  And don’t eat so many potato chips.  I’ll not say why these two items are together, but if you use your brain, you can figure out what I may be hinting at.

- Start a band.  Not doing so will be a life-long “jeez, I shoulda...” disappointment.

Finally, just be yourself.  If you decide to ignore most of these suggestions, no problem, you’ll still turn out pretty good, I’d say.

Sincerely,
You, from 30 years in the future.

Letter To My 16 Year Old Self

Saw this Dear Me Celebrity Extracts on The Guardian website, and thought I’d give it a go.  Not the Charlottetown The Guardian, but the British The Guardian.

Dear Robert,
It’s you, from the year 2011.  You’re now over 45 years old.  For the most part, only your Mom and someone named Linda call you Robert anymore.  Now, people call you “The Situation”. (This is a joke that you won’t understand until you get to be my age.  And even then, you won’t find it that funny.  Nobody calls you The Situation.  The Situation is, obviously, a name nobody will ever be called).  No, most everyone calls you “Rob”.  For some reason, you decide to drop the “ert” in your first year of university.
So, other than telling you about your name-shortening (which I just did), I’m going to speak in generalizations so that the time-line doesn’t get altered too much, because I’m pretty content with the place I’m at right now, and don’t want to mess that up too much.
So, the first thing to know is this:  You turn out pretty good, I think.  Got a few issues to work out, but who doesn’t.

In no particular order:

- In a couple of years, if you find yourself hemming and hawing about it, GO to that Doug & The Slugs concert.  Won’t say why, exactly, but it turns out pretty good for you, long-term.

- The biggest piece of advice I can give you - and this may fuck everything up for me/us in 2011 - is for you to be more forthcoming with speaking your opinion.  Don’t let your shyness influence who you are. Speak out and become more engaged.  You’ll soon be going to a party with a few friends at a cottage - it’s the same party where you discover the awesomeness of putting peanut butter on hot dogs - and, I implore you, don’t be so afraid to talk to the girls that are there.

- I know you have no expectation or even desire for this right now, but you’re going to make a pretty decent number of people laugh over the years. In this regard, I ask of you this: maintain perspective.  Don’t let anything go to your head.

- There will come a night when you and a friend from university go out, with the intention of drinking, partying, etc.  When that night arrives, I implore you... DO NOT drink so much tequila so quickly.  Otherwise, your night will end at 8:45, and you will have discovered that vomit ruins bibles.

- Don’t stop playing tennis.  And don’t eat so many potato chips.  I’ll not say why these two items are together, but if you use your brain, you can figure out what I may be hinting at.

- Start a band.  Not doing so will be a life-long “jeez, I shoulda...” disappointment.

Finally, just be yourself.  If you decide to ignore most of these suggestions, no problem, you’ll still turn out pretty good, I’d say.

Sincerely,
You, from 30 years in the future.

Miss USA, Prettiest of the Morons

I happened upon a couple of minutes near the end of the Miss USA pageant last night.  Normally I wouldn't watch such claptrap, but they were at the "ask the beauties about themselves and see if they can construct sentences" portion of the show, so I had to see how they did.

Most of it was pretty vapid.  And I don't mean Human-levels of vapidness, I'm talkin' a vapidness that surpasses even Beauty-Pageant-levels of vapid.
Just moronic, the answers were.

The highlight lowlight for me was Miss California.  

(side note:  look at this picture.  She looks like an Alien monster.  Seriously.  This is supposed to be the epitome of American beauty?)

She was asked to expand on her apparent infatuation with history.  What is it about history that you like?

She said she really likes history, is "a huge history buff", and is totally obsessed with the Tudor and Stuart era.  I thought this was a rather specific and odd statement, but, okay, she likes that period of English history.  Okay.

Then she said we can always find her in the history section at the Barnes and Noble. Nothing wrong with that.

Then came the home-run: To reiterate her love of history, she said she watches a lot of TV, like Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Let me repeat that:  As examples of history-based TV programs she watches, she singles out Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Okay, I can forgive Camelot, even though practically everything about the King Arthur legend is pure speculation.  

But there's no excuse for putting Game Of Thrones in any category even close to "history".

 (the historically accurate map of Eastern Doesnotexist)

To her credit, she did quickly realize her own stupidity, and backtracked saying she realized those shows were more fantasy. But that doesn't negate the fact that she mentioned them as examples of history-based TV shows she likes. Moron.

Then, as if to re-prove how smart she was, and to prove that she did, in fact, watch programs of historical significance, she said she did watch and love shows like The Tudors.

The Tudors.  

I derive joy thinking that she believes The Tudors is in any significant way historically accurate.  

I further imagine that she gets her knowledge of French/Gallic history from Asterix and Obelix comics.

I also imagine that, in 400 years, her great great great great great grand-moron will one day declare her love of history, saying she's obsessed with the Julia Roberts era of history, and loves watching history shows like Desperate Housewives.

Miss USA, Prettiest of the Morons

I happened upon a couple of minutes near the end of the Miss USA pageant last night.  Normally I wouldn't watch such claptrap, but they were at the "ask the beauties about themselves and see if they can construct sentences" portion of the show, so I had to see how they did.

Most of it was pretty vapid.  And I don't mean Human-levels of vapidness, I'm talkin' a vapidness that surpasses even Beauty-Pageant-levels of vapid.
Just moronic, the answers were.

The highlight lowlight for me was Miss California.  

(side note:  look at this picture.  She looks like an Alien monster.  Seriously.  This is supposed to be the epitome of American beauty?)

She was asked to expand on her apparent infatuation with history.  What is it about history that you like?

She said she really likes history, is "a huge history buff", and is totally obsessed with the Tudor and Stuart era.  I thought this was a rather specific and odd statement, but, okay, she likes that period of English history.  Okay.

Then she said we can always find her in the history section at the Barnes and Noble. Nothing wrong with that.

Then came the home-run: To reiterate her love of history, she said she watches a lot of TV, like Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Let me repeat that:  As examples of history-based TV programs she watches, she singles out Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Okay, I can forgive Camelot, even though practically everything about the King Arthur legend is pure speculation.  

But there's no excuse for putting Game Of Thrones in any category even close to "history".

 (the historically accurate map of Eastern Doesnotexist)

To her credit, she did quickly realize her own stupidity, and backtracked saying she realized those shows were more fantasy. But that doesn't negate the fact that she mentioned them as examples of history-based TV shows she likes. Moron.

Then, as if to re-prove how smart she was, and to prove that she did, in fact, watch programs of historical significance, she said she did watch and love shows like The Tudors.

The Tudors.  

I derive joy thinking that she believes The Tudors is in any significant way historically accurate.  

I further imagine that she gets her knowledge of French/Gallic history from Asterix and Obelix comics.

I also imagine that, in 400 years, her great great great great great grand-moron will one day declare her love of history, saying she's obsessed with the Julia Roberts era of history, and loves watching history shows like Desperate Housewives.

Rob's Seven-Word Review of "Source Code"

Starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Monaghan, Vera Farmiga & Jeffrey Wright

My review: Well-performed sci-fi. Wright's character misses. Pretty eyes.

Rob's Seven-Word Review of "Source Code"

Starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Monaghan, Vera Farmiga & Jeffrey Wright

My review: Well-performed sci-fi. Wright's character misses. Pretty eyes.

7 Word Reviews of IMAF2011 Videos Seen

So, for a while now, I've been thinking about writing up some 7-word reviews (that's kind of become my thing - 7 word reviews. Well, one of my things) of the videos I saw at this year's Island Media Arts Festival.  Wanted to do it right after the screenings, to keep it fresh.  Then I didn't do it.  Then I thought "well, the time has passed" and decided not to do it.  Then I thought "what the hell, just do it" and then I did it.  That's a lot of "thens".

Overall, I enjoyed the two nights of screeenings I saw.  Generally speaking, it's obvious that a lot of people have some pretty stout talents when it comes to shooting videos, and making them look really nice.  I did find myself wishing, though, that there were more people who were more interested in telling stories than they were in making videos look nice.

Anyway, here are some 7 word reviews.  With only 7 words, you might have to read between the lines quite a bit, and likely my meaning at times will be confusing as I attempt to have some specific word imply a whole paragraph of opinion.

FULL SCHEDULE – WEB WORKS AND COMEDY SCREENING:

And Yet I Blame Hollywood – Dave Stewart : A series of five two-minute movie reviews, in animated form.

 My 7 Word Review:  Sharply written. Distinct animation and characters. Succeeds.  (disclosure: I did some voice-work for some of these episodes)

 

Bunny Bop; Episode One – Cheryl Wagner : Episode One of a 15 episode web series for kids. It features young kids in bunny suits at play in a wondrous garden setting.

 My 7 Word Review: Cute, bright, short. Kids should love this.

 

Pabst Blue Ribbon – Jeremy Larter : A nod to David Lynch and Dennis Hopper.

 My 7 Word Review:  Didn't get any Lynch or Hopper vibe.

 

The New Neighbours – Susan Rodgers : When new neighbours move in to the apartment across the hall, they start making some strange sounds in the morning.

 My 7 Word Review: Disliked this. Too slow. Too long. Unfunny.

 

Billy Pelican; Reality TV – Neil Wiley/Richard DesRoches : A short film done in “vlog” form.

 My 7 Word Review: Dated.  Mercer rant ripoff. Well performed, though.

 

Mr. Happy – Pamela Lovelace : A man with particular tastes gets more than he bargained for at this particular coffee shop.

 My 7 Word Review: Liked at beginning. Bored by the end.

 

20 Steps Toronto – Jeremy Larter : 20 shots around Nathan Phillips Square in 20 step increments.

 My 7 Word Review: Rather aimless and random. Looked nice though.

 

Colour Code – Errol Richardson : The band Colour Code rehearses to syncopated lights.

 My 7 Word Review: Nice, but ran out of steam, visually.

A Time to Drum; Chapter Two – Susan Rodgers : Chapter two in a web series about dreams set against the backdrop of pipe band drumming. It is a passion project by a Mom whose son Christopher lives for music.

 My 7 Word Review: Long and self-absorbed. Desperately needs editor. 

Three Amigos Buy a Door – John Christenson : Three friends, member of the NB film co-op are tasked to improve the security of the co-op office by acquiring a new door. However, long-time friends or not, they soon find that they don’t quite work in sync.

 My 7 Word Review: Amateurish, uninspired. Humour misses. Made by technicians? 

Food Country; Brookfield Gardens – Adam Perry : One episode of the Food Country series featuring Chef Michael Smith as he tours PEI, talking to the people who produce the food we eat. And then making marvellous dishes.

 My 7 Word Review: Visually beautiful. Charming, warm, educational. Well done.

Now and Then – Millefiore Clarkes : One episode of the ten part series produced by ‘this town is small’ featuring PEI musicians in locations of significance around Charlottetown.

 My 7 Word Review: Simple, well executed. Don't remember song, though.

How to Be Alone – Andrea Dorfman/Tanya Davis : A quiet film that explores the delight one can find in being alone.

 (this video had technical difficulties so we didn't see it at the festival.  However, I had watched it on the internet, so this is a review of that experience)  My 7 Word Review: Turned it off halfway through.  Too precious.

December in Toronto – Millefiore Clarkes : A sense-weaving journey to Toronto through the single gaze of the traveller.

 My 7 Word Review: Visually rich. Bit chaotic and random. Liked.

Hat – Adam Perry : A farmer goes to his barn for some entertainment. Music video for Racoon Bandit’s song “Hat”.

 My 7 Word Review: Like everything about this: idea, song, execution.

Trans-Anne – Jason Rogerson : Anne and Diana tear down the highway in a ’75 Trans-Am in this Thelma and Louise inspired re-telling of the LM Montgomery classic.

 My 7 Word Review: Some funny bits, but too unwieldy, story-wise.  (disclosure: I play the title character)

 

IMAF Gala: Ten of PEI’s Best Shorts

Lucky 7 – Jason Rogerson : A comedy that follows the insanity that ensues after an office lotto pool hits the jackpot. Lucky 7 was the winner of the first PEI CBC 321 Award in 2010.

 

My 7 Word Review: Good performances, but story ends three-quarters through.  (disclosure: I act in this)

 

Rituals of December – Jeremy Larter : A moment of poetry with poet John MacKenzie.

 

My 7 Word Review: Liked performance, but video uninspired. Hide paper.

 

Reforestation – Laura Stewart : A man, fed up with everyday life ventures into the forest to find something new.

 

My 7 Word Review: Me likey.  More like this please. Kudos.

 

The Invasion of the Horrible Alien Brain Monsters from Outer Space in 3D – Fox Henderson : A hommage to the films of Ed Wood. The Brain Queen comes to earth to find a place to breed her horrible alien brain monsters. It is up to Dr. Jack Hammer to stop her.

 

My 7 Word Review: Half liked, half disliked. Not funny enough.

 

None 2 Some – Dennis Trainor : A brother and sister duo loose their mother and come up with a unique way to try to find her.

 

My 7 Word Review: Liked its low-budgetness. Strong characters, well performed.

 

The Islanders – Brian Pollard : This documentary is a nostalgic look at life on PEI in the 19th and early 20th centuries – a time when inhabitants referred to the Island at their “country” despite its diminutive size.

 

My 7 Word Review:  Too many pictures.  Wanted to see interviewees..

 

Anna di Timpiani Verde – Rob MacDonald : What if Anne of Green Gables was a 1970′s Italian Art Film? That’s the premise behind Anna di Timpani Verde, a reimagining of the iconic characters from the novel.

 

My 7 Word Review: I have a large fondness for this.  (disclosure: I wrote and directed this)

 

Harbour Town – Adam Perry : One episode of the ten part series produced by ‘this town is small’ featuring PEI musicians in locations of significance around Charlottetown.

 

My 7 Word Review: Starkness works. Well executed.  Hide that cord?

 

Automocar – Gavin Keen : The Danks take a trip to the carnival.

 

My 7 Word Review: Good looking music video. Enjoyed watching this.

 

The Bath – JoDee Samuelson : The story of a elderly woman, as she finds reprieve from daily life in the simple act of taking of a bath.

 (picture isn't linking) 

My 7 Word Review: Haven't tired of seeing this yet. Great!

 

Vast – Harmony Wagner : A young boy wakes up to discover he is the last person on Earth and he has to find out why.

 My 7 Word Review: Liked it, but found it too antiseptic.  (also, and more than 7 words, I was bugged that the description of the video turned out to be a lie.  SPOILER:  boy isn't the last person on Earth and it's not really about him having to find out why.  A minor thing, but it bugged me.)