oh, hello neighbour.

the driveway was already clear when i got in tonight and the alley had the compressed pancake look that only a heavy machine can deliver. the snow was still really white as well. stainless. nothing to get Frank Zappa going, anyway. we've been learning about the neighbours in bits and pieces. the funny guy who bought the novelty rubber breast for his infant daughter (loved it) and who throws at least two full out block parties per summer. well, turns out he's also got a snow blower AND a good heart. and a fairly medicated musical festival habit to boot. (and i had just been talking priorities tonight at the pad. why wasn't i traveling to take in at least one huge festival a year???) so he's going through his Pear Jam concert credentials and i can't take my eyes off the CTV crest on his Olympic jacket. why does every second person in their thirties around here work in the entertainment business. they're either hanging with someone who insists he couldn't bear to duel a carriage-bearing Patrick Watson at an open house not too far away or have some Sony Music VP best friend who almost bought your home. they talk. you just try to figure out what to say next. luckily, the conversation  gets easier as the night progresses.  hockey always breaks the ice nicely in this city. comparing notes on musical legends never hurts and yes, whiskey always helps.