Nevertheless by The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Dave: If you’ve never heard of the “Brian Jonestown Massacre” you’re missing out on a great band. Have a listen. They play the Commodore ballroom September 8th, only $20.
Entries from August 2007
Brian Jonestown Massacre
August 25, 2007 · Leave a Comment
Categories: Where's my gonch & other stuff
Tagged: Brian Jonestown Massacre
Bali Restaurant in Scheveningen, Holland – Sprawling History 1
August 14, 2007 · Leave a Comment
Tessa: There used to be an Indonesian restaurant in Scheveningen, Holland called Bali. The restaurant looked like an old house that had been renovated. As a child my family used to travel to Holland frequently to visit and this was one restaurant we would always go to. First we would pick up my grandmother, Nenny, who lived in Den Hague (The Hague) and off we would go. Those visits always included my mom and dad, my sister Petra, brother John and if my exiled sister Jokelee was in town from Switzerland, she would be there too, along assorted aunts, uncles and cousins.
Even though we would often eat indonesian food at home going to a restaurant like this was a big treat because we would order the entire rijstafel that included alot of things I didn’t know. AND bonus my dad would order in this strange language that was neither Dutch nor English. What is that, I asked? What? he’d say. That language. Malay, he answered. What’s Malay? A language spoken in Indonesia. How come you’re speaking it? Because that’s where I’m from. Really? Yes. Does she speak it? I said pointing to my grandmother. No. Why? At which my grandmother looked at me and said, I speak only Dutch. Ik spreek alleen Nederlands.
I think that was the first time, although certainly not the last time, I realized my dad was something other than what I thought he was. As a six year old I don’t think you actually think about things in that kind of a way but I definitely knew in that moment that both he and my grandma were different even if she denied it. And the only reason I could figure that out was because even though my dad spoke that funny language he looked like me; blonde and blue-eyed, and my grandmother was dark and exotic like our waiters. For that brief moment that a kid cares or pays attention to those kinds of things it just seemed twisted.
That was my first introduction to Indonesia, a place that my father, his brother and sister and my grandmother were all born and raised.
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Tall Tales: A Sprawling Family History
August 13, 2007 · Leave a Comment
Tessa: My mom just left after visiting for two weeks from Port Credit, a small town just outside Toronto that lies on the southern end of Lake Ontario where I grew up.
My mom is interesting for a number of reasons, most of them too complicated to get into but one of the things that I like about her is that she, like my father, is an interesting storyteller. My father was more of a tall tales kinda guy who would wow you with stories from his life that were so outrageous that you knew that only some of it could be true if anything at all.
My mother, on the other hand, is less a storyteller than she is someone who has led an interesting life and from time to time she shares it with you. I used to joke and say that I was the offspring of two lying, thieving bon vivants so how could I ever be expected to have any moral compass…and while this is obviously not completely true, except in my father’s case, in which he did go to jail for seven years for defrauding a company, amongst other things….my mother is less a liar, and maybe more of something along the lines of a petty thief and only against my brother on occasions when she feels particularly hard done by him.
So all in all I realize that my family life and lore, amidst its sordidness and its glory is fertile ground for retelling and that’s what I hope to do here from time to time. Because of my own hazy memory and the nature of my parents’ storytelling alot of it will of course be bull, but I will recount the best I can the basic framework on which I can hang these tall tales.
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So Long Canada West
August 4, 2007 · 4 Comments
Tessa: The other day I was at Canada West Veterinary Specialists for Reuben’s check-up. As we got close to the hospital Reuben got really excited as if he were going on a big hike instead of to the doctors. He ran out of the car and into the reception area where he was greeted by a posse of staff who all shouted, “Hey Reuben’s here.” They crowded around him and gave him big kisses while we waited for super babe nurse Jayne to come out.
As we waited for Jayne he sat there with his tail wagging and a big boner, a sure sign of happiness in my mind. There was a couple beside us and we started chatting. They had that worried, crazy look that Dave and I had a few short weeks ago. I asked them what was up and they said Princess was in for her second spinal cord surgery and I nodded knowingly. Of course. I get it. They asked about Reub and I told them about Reuben’s four surgeries. They nodded and shook their heads knowingly. They’re like our children she said.
Then when the beautiful Jayne emerged and got on the ground and started whispering sweet nothings into my sweetie’s ear, (Reub not Dave) he looked almost as happy to see her as he usually is to see me and it made me feel really good inside.
Reub and I were then ushered into one of the waiting rooms to see Dr. Enberg. He always says Trevor and introduces himself in that nice informal way but I can’t quite bring myself to say that quite yet. He’s still Reuben’s doctor and by calling him that I feel like I can hang on to that a little bit longer.
He did the usual things, felt his intestine, finger up the poop shoot and generally played with him on the floor calling him sweet things like here’s my boy. I looked at him and said Dr. Enberg have we turned that corner yet? And he paused and looked at me and without missing a beat or making me feel like I was stupid he consulted the sixty two pages of charts and medically things on paper and said well you know his surgery was then and his last this was then and he hasn’t had a reaction to the human albumin so I think it’s very safe to say yes, he’s turned a corner.
Wow. He’s turned a corner. I wanted to hug him and run out and grab Jayne and all the cute receptionists who act like Reuben is a movie star when he comes in. DID YOU HEAR THAT???? Then I realized that in a weird way I feel completely at home at Canada West. I feel surrounded by like-minded people…people who don’t give a second thought to doing everything they can to help animals.
Since Reuben has come home we’ve been confronted with different reactions. People are usually too polite to ask how much we paid for his life but it’s private health care and they can pretty much figure out half of the cost and even that makes them gasp. One person suggested that there were so many animals that needed homes from shelters perhaps we should have just done that.
I guess at the end of the day we all have to make our choices in these matters because animals don’t have the same rights as people do. Their lives are completely at the mercy of their owners and that makes me feel sick to my stomach.
I told Dr. Enberg I was going to miss them. I’m not going to miss Reuben being sick but I’m going to miss being surrounded by crazy animal loving people who get it.
Now I spend my days plotting and thinking about how I could be useful there. My mother suggested I become a vet. I think not. But it’s the kind of uncompromising commitment that I love so I guess I learned something from this experience.
My next blog will be about my mother’s visit. I can’t write it right now because she won’t let me and as it is I am only writing this one because Dave is keeping her temporarily preoccupied. Soon she will come and hunt me down and demand more attention or want me to paint her toe nails or get her another glass of wine or something. There is definitely something about distance making it possible to love some people more. But more on that next week.
See ya.
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