"'Your friends are the aperture through which you view the world'
-Max Szentveri"
-Karl Heilbron
I don't remember saying this, but, when I heard Karl say it, I remember thinking, "Sounds like something I'd say." Then Karl told me I actually was the one who had said it originally. Apparently, I black out and sprinkle these little pearls of wisdom around-- friends! band together, so that we can collect them, and make a Max Szentveri's Desktop Calendar of Inspirational Daily Aphorisms©, or something like that, with Anne Geddes pictures of adorable little shrimp-fingered babies for every day.
Before he left for England, and constricted my worldly aperture like a metaphorical donkey punch, Karl and I went to "Science World After Dark"-- a place where the beer flows like wine; where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capestrano! Basically, it's adults-only Science World, a veritable orgy of drunken hedonists in high-cut lab coats sipping champagne from Erlenmeyer flasks, whilst sensually expounding about cephalopods and algorithms in hot, breathy voices.
Actually, it isn't really any of that, but there was beer.
I thought it was a fitting way to cap off the summer, ending it with a new twist on one of the first activities I chronicled in this blog. This time, instead of it being a facile, hackneyed idea to fall back on in the absence of real imagination, it was a novel, exciting way of experiencing something I was familiar with, which, after all, is the entire purpose of my Local Tourist™ endeavor.
This time around, we had a chance to see plenty of stuff I hadn't seen before, such as the awesome dinosaur exhibit, and a mind-blowing IMAX documentary about the Hubble telescope. If you want to drop some knowledge on your ignorant self, click here to see a pretty cool image that explores cosmic scale, and illustrates why we were all tripping balls during the Hubble movie.
Also, Kim got stuck--
And we did a lot of "hands-on" science:
This lovely evening was followed by the first and final instalment in Karl and I's Summer Concert Series®-- seeing the Butthole Surfers at the Rickshaw! For those of you who don't know who the Butthole Surfers are, and are thinking that Karl and I went to some sort of gonzo coprophilic orgy, that was a completely different night.
Some Dispute Over T-Shirt Sales (complete with the grotesque and charmingly sickening b-movie gore montage that played behind them the entire show):
Before the band came out, I had the distinct pleasure of being enthusiastically talked at by my wide-eyed, Hawaiian-shirted seat neighbour, whose wife was slumped next to him, looking suspiciously un-alive. He said he was grateful for our ear (what with his wife not being the greatest conversationist, on account of being comatose and all-- quite inconsiderate, I should say), explaining that he was the Surfers' biggest fan, and pontificating about why they were the most influential band of the 90's.
Usually, our eager friend's ambiguous homelessness, combined with the dim venue full of belligerent, moshing possibly-meth-heads would have been enough to cause Karl to evacuate the obligatory $3 PBR's they served at the Rickshaw, but he remained steadfast, and as we stood mere inches from the stage (!), he courageously beat back the obnoxious lower-East-side Gollums as they attempted to claw their way to front of the crowd.
In fact--
That's right, this is a picture of Karl Heilbron willingly sitting down for a beer at- gasp!- the Cambie before the concert! In fact, he's actually the one who suggested we drop in!
What inspiring personal growth. Naturally, I am taking full credit for this, as my soul-plumbing quest to open my mind to new experiences was clearly the catalyst for Karl's admittedly derivative efforts. This is, of course, not surprising, as we are the same person.
My next super-touristy expedition was my first-ever trip to UBC with Michael Silverwood, Esq. and Aldora. I might have been there, like, once before, but I'd never really gotten to see campus that well, which may come as a bit of a surprise when you consider I applied there for undergrad, and it's only 45 minutes away from my house. Of course, I never visited any of the universities I applied to (seriously), you know, what with being a complete tourist and all.
Naturally, I was all like, "Aw cool!" and began taking a ton of impeccably-lit pictures.
$3 beers and BBQ, and my sudden, very touristy onset of an appreciation for architecture all conspired to make me very impressed with the place, and nostalgically sort of wish I was back at school somewhere, studying history, or something equally romantic and silly.
Alas, it is (more-or-less) winter in Vancouver-- that time of year where the city trades its warm, verdant palette for a sombre, David Fincher-ian wash, we (ie. I) stop rolling down the window and cranking the Beach Boys, and begin listening to The National as we drive in the rain, mulling over whether Seasonal Affect Disorder isn't as totally bullshit as it sounds. Lo! hear the plaintive, sunlorn teenage girls, as they sound their lament from the bus stops, "Summer has come and passed, the innocent can never last!"
This is the first Fall that I won't be going back to school in 16 years, which is an incredibly strange feeling. On the one hand, I'd love to go back to school-- being a student is what I've been best at for most of my life-- and yet, I really don't have anything in particular I'd want to pursue there (I mean, just look about you at my infuriatingly sesquipedalian lexicon and indulgent prolixity-- obviously there is no more the idle, antediluvian pedagogues can teach me about the English language!) I'm pretty sure Milton said the exact same thing when he graduated.
As I've alluded to, many of my bestest buds (the components of my perceptual Hubble Telescope, if you will), have scattered to the four corners of the world to continue their studies, and I no longer have the warm maternal den of 2641 Orchard Ave. to return to. Luckily, thus far, working at the golf course has kept me fairly occupied (you know, in that deferring, everybody-knows-that-Einstein-worked-at-a-patent-office-when-he-formulated-his-theory-of-relativity sort of way):
I wonder if they're still casting for the upcoming Hobbit film...
Sadly, my days at the golf course have come to an end, and once again, I'm facing down those peskily persistent quandaries-- you know, those ones that keep bothering me about what to do with the rest of my life, and such. In order to keep myself busy, I've begun doing some serious training to prepare for the upcoming Fall season: I've got 3 seasons of House to catch up on, 2 seasons of Community, and a season of Modern Family to plough through in the coming weeks (also, just watched the season finale of Breaking Bad OMFGWHATJUSTHAPPENED!?)
Yes, it's going to be a busy Fall-- Community, House, How I Met Your Mother (begrudgingly), It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The League, Mad Men, Modern Family, 30 Rock, and, of course, Jersey Shore (I really hope Snooki finally breaks it off with Jionni-- I mean, day-um girl, have some self respect...). Hopefully, I'll also have some time to devote myself to my other growing addictions, such as Red Bull and garage sales.
But seriously, in between episodes, I have a lot of thinking to do. What is life after college, after all? I'm still not sure, and I'm not exactly sure how to find out. So far, my most promising idea is to go on an (admittedly cliché) trip abroad to "find myself," and take this whole Local Tourist thing international. Not, like, traveling to Nepal and drinking psychoactive tea in brick huts with sherpas or anything-- I was thinking more along the lines of reclining on a Parisian balcony, sipping a merlot and pretentiously pretending to know a lot about Edith Piaf as "La Vie En Rose" plays softly in the background on a "hip" vintage record player I picked up at the "quaint" local market, while reading Spanish poetry and sardonically chuckling in concurring faux-sagacity at its eternal, cosmic wisdom before deigning to confer a condescending, poignant shake of my head to the less-enlightened denizens of the streets below.
As the great philosopher Hume said, "See you in another life, brother."
Max
Twitter: @MaxSzentveri
Editorial Note: From now on, I think I'm going to keep posts shorter, which will make for easier reading and, more importantly, will hopefully enable me to post more often. Maybe I can try to do a weekly thing? Can I really commit to that? Sure, let's be optimists!
Dramatis Personae
People in this post:
Aldora Chang
Did not think my "Aldora's Box" pun was funny at all.
Karl Heilbron
Has grown up, despite this propeller hat he wears that says "I Don't Wanna Grow Up!"
Kim Noble
Contortionist.
Michael Silverwood
Tour guide.
Check him out, yo, he's blowing up the interwebs:
Twitter: @michael_one
www.michaelsilverwood.ca
http://paper.li/michael_one
All fantastic stuff, if you're at all technologically-inclined.
 |
| February 8th: 'Bitches ain't shit but ho's and tricks.' |
Before he left for England, and constricted my worldly aperture like a metaphorical donkey punch, Karl and I went to "Science World After Dark"-- a place where the beer flows like wine; where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capestrano! Basically, it's adults-only Science World, a veritable orgy of drunken hedonists in high-cut lab coats sipping champagne from Erlenmeyer flasks, whilst sensually expounding about cephalopods and algorithms in hot, breathy voices.
Actually, it isn't really any of that, but there was beer.
I thought it was a fitting way to cap off the summer, ending it with a new twist on one of the first activities I chronicled in this blog. This time, instead of it being a facile, hackneyed idea to fall back on in the absence of real imagination, it was a novel, exciting way of experiencing something I was familiar with, which, after all, is the entire purpose of my Local Tourist™ endeavor.
 |
| Come for the science... |
 |
| Stay for the beer. |
This time around, we had a chance to see plenty of stuff I hadn't seen before, such as the awesome dinosaur exhibit, and a mind-blowing IMAX documentary about the Hubble telescope. If you want to drop some knowledge on your ignorant self, click here to see a pretty cool image that explores cosmic scale, and illustrates why we were all tripping balls during the Hubble movie.
 |
| T-Rex, bitch. |
 |
| "God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs..." |
Also, Kim got stuck--
 |
| It's a chick in a box! |
And we did a lot of "hands-on" science:
 |
 |
This lovely evening was followed by the first and final instalment in Karl and I's Summer Concert Series®-- seeing the Butthole Surfers at the Rickshaw! For those of you who don't know who the Butthole Surfers are, and are thinking that Karl and I went to some sort of gonzo coprophilic orgy, that was a completely different night.
 |
| Totally not sketchy at all! |
 |
| Surfin' buttholes. |
Some Dispute Over T-Shirt Sales (complete with the grotesque and charmingly sickening b-movie gore montage that played behind them the entire show):
Before the band came out, I had the distinct pleasure of being enthusiastically talked at by my wide-eyed, Hawaiian-shirted seat neighbour, whose wife was slumped next to him, looking suspiciously un-alive. He said he was grateful for our ear (what with his wife not being the greatest conversationist, on account of being comatose and all-- quite inconsiderate, I should say), explaining that he was the Surfers' biggest fan, and pontificating about why they were the most influential band of the 90's.
Usually, our eager friend's ambiguous homelessness, combined with the dim venue full of belligerent, moshing possibly-meth-heads would have been enough to cause Karl to evacuate the obligatory $3 PBR's they served at the Rickshaw, but he remained steadfast, and as we stood mere inches from the stage (!), he courageously beat back the obnoxious lower-East-side Gollums as they attempted to claw their way to front of the crowd.
 |
| I swear to God this guy was right behind us. |
In fact--
 |
| Not amused with my quasi-patronizing "I'm totally gonna put this in my blog" photo op. |
That's right, this is a picture of Karl Heilbron willingly sitting down for a beer at- gasp!- the Cambie before the concert! In fact, he's actually the one who suggested we drop in!
What inspiring personal growth. Naturally, I am taking full credit for this, as my soul-plumbing quest to open my mind to new experiences was clearly the catalyst for Karl's admittedly derivative efforts. This is, of course, not surprising, as we are the same person.
 |
| 'I do like going to the Cambie! I do like it, Sam I Am...bie...' |
My next super-touristy expedition was my first-ever trip to UBC with Michael Silverwood, Esq. and Aldora. I might have been there, like, once before, but I'd never really gotten to see campus that well, which may come as a bit of a surprise when you consider I applied there for undergrad, and it's only 45 minutes away from my house. Of course, I never visited any of the universities I applied to (seriously), you know, what with being a complete tourist and all.
Naturally, I was all like, "Aw cool!" and began taking a ton of impeccably-lit pictures.
 |
| Just imagine me walking around looking like this. |
 |
| Yes, they always wear matching sunglasses like that. So cute (Aldorable?). |
$3 beers and BBQ, and my sudden, very touristy onset of an appreciation for architecture all conspired to make me very impressed with the place, and nostalgically sort of wish I was back at school somewhere, studying history, or something equally romantic and silly.
Alas, it is (more-or-less) winter in Vancouver-- that time of year where the city trades its warm, verdant palette for a sombre, David Fincher-ian wash, we (ie. I) stop rolling down the window and cranking the Beach Boys, and begin listening to The National as we drive in the rain, mulling over whether Seasonal Affect Disorder isn't as totally bullshit as it sounds. Lo! hear the plaintive, sunlorn teenage girls, as they sound their lament from the bus stops, "Summer has come and passed, the innocent can never last!"
 |
| At least September has ended. |
This is the first Fall that I won't be going back to school in 16 years, which is an incredibly strange feeling. On the one hand, I'd love to go back to school-- being a student is what I've been best at for most of my life-- and yet, I really don't have anything in particular I'd want to pursue there (I mean, just look about you at my infuriatingly sesquipedalian lexicon and indulgent prolixity-- obviously there is no more the idle, antediluvian pedagogues can teach me about the English language!) I'm pretty sure Milton said the exact same thing when he graduated.
 |
| Life in watercolour. |
As I've alluded to, many of my bestest buds (the components of my perceptual Hubble Telescope, if you will), have scattered to the four corners of the world to continue their studies, and I no longer have the warm maternal den of 2641 Orchard Ave. to return to. Luckily, thus far, working at the golf course has kept me fairly occupied (you know, in that deferring, everybody-knows-that-Einstein-worked-at-a-patent-office-when-he-formulated-his-theory-of-relativity sort of way):
 |
| This is what it looks like when I get to work... |
 |
| ...This is what it looks like when I get home from work. |
Sadly, my days at the golf course have come to an end, and once again, I'm facing down those peskily persistent quandaries-- you know, those ones that keep bothering me about what to do with the rest of my life, and such. In order to keep myself busy, I've begun doing some serious training to prepare for the upcoming Fall season: I've got 3 seasons of House to catch up on, 2 seasons of Community, and a season of Modern Family to plough through in the coming weeks (also, just watched the season finale of Breaking Bad OMFGWHATJUSTHAPPENED!?)
Yes, it's going to be a busy Fall-- Community, House, How I Met Your Mother (begrudgingly), It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The League, Mad Men, Modern Family, 30 Rock, and, of course, Jersey Shore (I really hope Snooki finally breaks it off with Jionni-- I mean, day-um girl, have some self respect...). Hopefully, I'll also have some time to devote myself to my other growing addictions, such as Red Bull and garage sales.
 |
| And also, Stieg Larsson novels. |
But seriously, in between episodes, I have a lot of thinking to do. What is life after college, after all? I'm still not sure, and I'm not exactly sure how to find out. So far, my most promising idea is to go on an (admittedly cliché) trip abroad to "find myself," and take this whole Local Tourist thing international. Not, like, traveling to Nepal and drinking psychoactive tea in brick huts with sherpas or anything-- I was thinking more along the lines of reclining on a Parisian balcony, sipping a merlot and pretentiously pretending to know a lot about Edith Piaf as "La Vie En Rose" plays softly in the background on a "hip" vintage record player I picked up at the "quaint" local market, while reading Spanish poetry and sardonically chuckling in concurring faux-sagacity at its eternal, cosmic wisdom before deigning to confer a condescending, poignant shake of my head to the less-enlightened denizens of the streets below.
As the great philosopher Hume said, "See you in another life, brother."
Max
Twitter: @MaxSzentveri
Editorial Note: From now on, I think I'm going to keep posts shorter, which will make for easier reading and, more importantly, will hopefully enable me to post more often. Maybe I can try to do a weekly thing? Can I really commit to that? Sure, let's be optimists!
Dramatis Personae
People in this post:
Did not think my "Aldora's Box" pun was funny at all.
Has grown up, despite this propeller hat he wears that says "I Don't Wanna Grow Up!"
Contortionist.
Tour guide.
Check him out, yo, he's blowing up the interwebs:
Twitter: @michael_one
www.michaelsilverwood.ca
http://paper.li/michael_one
All fantastic stuff, if you're at all technologically-inclined.
