lonelyfridge

Set list, jotted down on a napkin, from Guy Davis’s March 25, 2007 show at Bearly’s.

1. Hoochie Coochie Man
2. Payday
3. Driftin’ Blues
4. Limetown
5. Home Cooke Meal
6. What You Doin’
7. (Highway 61) The Loneliest Road I Know
8. The Chocolate Man
9. Shaky Puddin’
10. broke down train? angel? drunk?
11. Railroad Story, followed by break
12. Run Sinner Run
13. Can’t Be Satisfied
14. Grandma Is Dancing
15. Come Back Baby
16. rag, improv?
17. Watch Over Me
18. Saturday Blues
19. Candyman
20. Po’ Boy (Great Long Way From Home)
21. Walkin’ Blues
22. “new one”
23. Let Me Stay A While
24. Blues In The Midnight Hour
25. See That My Grave Is Kept Clean
26. Baby Please Don’t Go
27. Going Down Slow

…and beer. And lots of other booze.

Our team really came together for the end-of-the-summer tournament, we only lost two of the three games, and one lose was really a moral victory (our win wasn’t a moral defeat, either, we cleaned that team’s clock on moral grounds too).

Afterwards, the three non-yellow-bellied-slash-chicken-livered teammates (I count myself among the august members), headed out to the bar (post showers and other cooling/cleaning/relaxing regimes) rather than napping.

The waitress at the bar asked what kind of muscles I wanted and, a bit surprised I said “uh, you know, the black ones, with, uh, meat inside them.”

She very patiently explained that, yes, those were the kind of muscles, but that there were four sauces available, as clearly stated in the menu.

Ye olde alehouse, the Halifax Alehouse, has muscles on special on Sunday night – twice as many as you usually get for $10, which is normally one kilogram, or, in imperial units, “more than one person could eat”.

After several beer and too much seafood, we quickly toured our apartments for fruit and rum, eventually arriving at someone’s blender (“what’s black and white and…”) .

I’d continue but I’ve run out of witty things to say about the evening. I move in two or so days.

So, my pirate lass and I are finally shacking up, for the first time since we were both at the same university. Apparently my current dwelling is a “dank dark hole, a cesspool of guitars”, purportedly unfit for her.

Begrudgingly, I move.

I’ve been contacting various companies and corporations telling them that I’m moving. Being a web application nerd, I shun human conta— er like to check out other web applications, so I always take a stab at using them. I probably shouldn’t expect a joyous fête of usability, but it is 2007 (era of “Web 2.0″), so I get excited.

Canada Post had to make sure I was the real me, so quizzed me on my credit history, but first warned me some questions might be “simulated” (er, what?). I failed. Into the post office.

Last time I moved, I went to change my billing address with Rogers, online. I filled in my address and clicked “submit”. It told me I hadn’t entered my province or postal code. Turns out those fields aren’t on the form. OK.

Two years later:

“Dear Rogers, I can’t change my mailing address online, as I’m moving, don’t be douchebags and tell me I need MSIE.” (this is, perhaps, a paraphrase, the details are the same.)

“Dear Customer, please use Netscape 4.1.6+ or IE 5+, and if you can’t, replay and we’ll mail you your invoice.”

“Dear Rogers, thank you for your boilerplate response that misses my complaint. If I tell Safari to pretend to be IE, it gives me those fields, that means your web developers are idiots. Please inform them of this.” (very little paraphrasing.)

Exhibit A, Safari 2.0.4 (I have version 3 on the MacBook):

Exhibit B, Safari, pretending to be MSIE6 for Windows:

(Firefox gets that without pretending, it’s special)

I figure now that I have those fields, I’d enter my new address and hit submit:

(Same problem in Firefox, not so special after all)

1998 called and it wants its idiotic browser specific broken JavaScript back. —air-quotes— Web 2.0 —air-quotes— is at the door with an axe, you should let it in.

PS: Fuck you, up in Toronto, Rogers: Nova Scotia might not be a “have” province, but we aren’t invalid.