Martians

            On Tuesday morning I finished revising my translation of “A la pêche des coeurs" (To the Fishing Hole for Hearts) by Boris Vian and finished posting my translation of “Lucette et Lucie" by Serge Gainsbourg. 

            I had big hopes for song practice after having gotten my guitar fixed the day before, but it still went out of tune after all but one song. It didn’t go out of tune as much and so most of the songs didn't sound horrible but it's still frustrating. I’ll make allowances for the fact that they put a new B string on, but after a couple of days I’ll have to think about it being a guitar problem again. If I take it back to Remenyi, Harold might gaslight my hearing again. 

            In the late morning I headed down to St Lawrence Market to do some Christmas shopping. It’s funny how riding downtown to Yonge Street along Queen seemed to take forever but when I ride up to Bloor, east to Yonge and then south to Queen it feels shorter. Maybe it’s because of the Bloor bike lane.

            At the Market I went to Domino foods to get a selection of bulk candy to send to Astrid. The cashier asked if I was buying stocking stuffers and when I said they were for my daughter in Montreal she said, "That's so nice!" I got a dozen sesame seed bagels for myself at St Urbain. They were fresh from the oven. I got a pack of hot pepperettes from Sausage King. 

            On the way home I stopped at Lush to get Astrid some bath bombs but I found out that the store is only open for pick ups and all ordering has to be done online. When I said I wouldn’t bother the person at the door said, "No worries!" 

            It seems like only about ten years ago Canadians suddenly started saying “No worries" when before that it was exclusively an Australian expression. I wonder how that happened. One theory is that it came from The Lion King and another that people picked it up from Steve Irwin. Apparently Canadians are using it more than anyone else outside of Down Under. 

            Before going home I went to the new post office at Vina Pharmacy. It’s almost a whole block closer to my place now and at the drug store that I actually use for my prescriptions. It’s also in a less grungy part of Parkdale. I bought a packing box to put the candy in. 

            I had jalapeno kettle chips and thick sour cream for lunch. When I was first scooping out a spoonful of sour cream into the bowl it was so heavy that it flipped off my teaspoon, ran down my pants and avalanched to the floor. I had to clean it up and start over. 

            I took a siesta at 14:00 and was amazed when I woke up at 14:14 feeling like I’d slept a long time. I got up to pee and went back to bed with the intention of going back to sleep until 15:30 as usual but then I realized that I’d actually woken up at 16:14. 

            When I got up I packed Astrid's candy, taped up and addressed the box and then took it to the post office. The clerk asked if there was any hazardous material and she smiled when I said, “Only for diabetics.” I paid for express delivery just in case regular mail is too slow this season. It should get to Montreal in a couple of days but I remember that there was a delay with the package I sent in May, even by express. 

            Now I’m free to study for my exam on December 22. I still haven’t heard from my college about my request for help concerning the exam time limit ignoring the fact that mature students can’t type quickly. 

            I looked at some more of the key terms listed as possible Canadian Literature exam topics. 

            The idea of the black bildungsroman is probably inaccurate since a true black bildungsroman in a black country would have more in common with a regular or what the professor would call a white bildungsroman. A more accurate title would be a “black minority bildungsroman". 

            I had a potato, a pork chop and gravy while watching the finale of Quatermass and the Pit. The consciousness in the rocket hull from Mars has fed upon the electricity brought by all of the TV crews and has emerged as a burning horned devil shape. Things are flying all around and people are panicking. It has taken over the consciousness of some people and caused them to kill others, sometimes just with the newfound power of their minds. Quatermass has also been taken over but Roney finds him and snaps him out of it. A US freighter plane flying overhead sees London burning but the images are obviously archival film footage from the Blitz. The pilots are also overwhelmed and the plane crashes. Roney remembers that the traditional enemies of the Devil are iron and water and so Quatermass goes to throw an iron object (I think an actual iron grate known as a hob) containing wet earth into the heart of the fireball, but he collapses. Roney finishes the job but dies in the attempt. His effort is successful however and London is saved but he dies in the process. In the end Quatermass warns that all violence has been passed down to humanity from the Martian influence and we must be forever vigilant. 

            The idea of “Hob” being a name for the Devil might be a Christian attack on the British pagan idea of the hobgoblin, which was a benevolent goblin that lived in your hearth and would come out to do your house chores while you were sleeping in exchange for food.