A few quick things - from the neighbourhood, from the paper, and from history…

First, if you ever need to make me crazy, there seems to be a fairly simple formula - just get yourself an amateur brass band, position them in the park across from my balcony, and practice the same 4 notes from 11pm - 1am on a Monday night. Please try to ensure that on each successive attempt to master the 4 notes, a different person in the group veers horribly off-key, so you have to try it again. And again. And again. And again. If you can manage it, try to find 4 notes that sound hauntingly familiar - say, the last part of the Hockey Night in Canada theme, like last night's train wreck of a practice featured. I would have paid them to stop….just stop. I would have financed a world tour of the Fournote Orchestra, just to get them away from me…

Speaking of orchestras and Canadian content, I see in the paper that Toronto's Walk of Fame has added a few names, and there's some interesting trivia to go along with the gala - the usual Canuck propensity for shouting out the names of the home team - we matter! We matter! For instance, we all know about Shatner, Mary Pickford and Monty Hall being covert Hosers…but I had no idea that Jack Warner (Warner Bros.) and Louis B. Mayer were both from the Great White North. Warner was from London, Ontario, as was 1930's bandleader Guy Lombardo (and his Royal Canadians). Here's the interesting part, and again I'll go the lazy route and just quote from the article :

"The venerable U.S. custom of welcoming the new year with "Auld Lang Syne"? The old Scottish ballad had been the signature song for Lombardo's Royal Canadians, and when the band was featured on live U.S. broadcasts of year-end festivities in the 1930's, 'it caught on' ".

This is one of those rare occasions when a real mystery is suddenly cleared up. Billy Crystal in 'When Harry Met Sally' goes on and on about it ("My whole life, I don't understand this song"). It's not a New Year song at all - just another case of a pop song becoming attached to an event to which it has no connection.

Speaking of songs being out of place in their surroundings, there's a habit among big companies here that I found to be irritating at first, then amusing, and now I hardly notice. In the offices and factories of megagiant corporations, break times are indicated to staff by way of tinkly Casio keyboard renditions of familiar, if incongruous, songs. "The Entertainer" is played (ad nauseam) as the 'on hold' music when you call my office - which is fine, but I really want to find Scott Joplin's grandchildren and give them noogies. Another company plays "Silent Night" and "What Child is This?" at significant times throughout the day, which seems just plain wrong in August. I don't like Christmas music very much at the best of times (i.e. Christmas), but when I'm sweating through my suit and longing for snow drifts, it becomes downright malicious. The other well-known and confusing musical presentation brings us right back to Guy Lombardo again. At the end of the day at most department stores, restaurants and various shops, we know it's time to go because the dirge-like 'Auld Lang Syne' will play, usually accompanied by a nice voice-over, telling us very kindly to get the hell out. I used to shake my head and have a lot of condescending thoughts about the Japanese just not getting it, but I suddenly realize that they've been getting it right all along. As their signature song, it was probably played last at every performance by Lombardo and his Royal Canadians, so it makes a lot of sense that department stores in Japan should play it to indicate closing time. We're the ones who have been happily singing a nonsensical song for no apparent reason. It's accidentally reasonable, and I'd better not tell too many people, or they'll put a stop to it right away.

Just to wrap this up and complete the circle….Speaking of brass bands that don't play very well, and working in the idea of the song not fitting the occasion, and making sure to include a healthy dose of Canadian content :

When I was about 15, Rick Hanson came through my home town on his cross-Canada wheelchair tour - he rolled over my foot that day, but that's not the point of this tale. Our high school band, who played extraordinarily poorly, was assembled outside to greet him and play the three songs that they played extraordinarily poorly. Immediately following the glowing welcome and introduction by the mayor, the band broke into their incredibly shoddy rendition of "The Hop". I'm not even kidding. It could only have been worse if they had played it for Terry Fox.

Until next time….