Sunday, August 23, 2009

what a world

Warning: aspects of this post may make you vomit.

I don't know if any of you have been paying attention to the ongoing search for the reality TV dude who killed his former-swimsuit model girlfriend in California. Well, apparently it has come to an end, after BC police said they found the guy in a Hope hotel room, dead, from what they're calling a suicide.

I think the whole thing is pretty tragic, after reading a few stories about the guy and how he set out to L.A. from Calgary and wanted to be famous and rich and all that. I see our culture producing more and more of these deluded people and it's kind of scary-- (I spent a good hour watching people sing their own personal covers of one of the most ridiculous songs of all-time... Tim McGraw's Don't Take the Girl. These people must be hoping someone discovers them and gives them their big chance.)

Anyway, the reason I'm posting something about the saga is the way the woman's body was identified. According to the story, Jenkins (the alleged murderer) dumped his ex's body in a dumpster without her teeth or fingers, making identification difficult. Police were able to trace her identity back, however... by using the serial number on her breast implants.

Jesus Christ, what a world we live in.

Now for the god-forsaken part of the post that could induce nausea... Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Tim McGraw.

I want to add another line about a dirty sex tourist in Thailand's conscience, standing in front of a line of prostitutes he can chose from... it includes a bunch of ladies and one who is obviously much younger. "You flew 18 hours to bust nuts like a squirrel, but Johnny don't take the girl..."

Thursday, August 20, 2009

frontier psychiatrist

Frontier Psychiatrist -- The Avalanches

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

it was the rest of times...

Note: The following may not be interesting to anyone but myself. Read on at your own discretion.

Two months off, no strings attached. Sounds like paradise, right?

Well, yes and no.

I'll explain.

I quit my job at the end of June in order to take some quality time off and enjoy my summer. Since returning to Yellowknife from school, it seemed every job I've had required flexible hours, leaving town or working holidays and, as a result, I missed out on a lot of fishing and camping trips and sports tournaments with friends -- the very things that make the North worth living in.

So I figured I'd kick around Yellowknife for July and August, soak up the sun, read a ton of books (something I found impossible while working at the paper), rekindle some basic cooking skills and take part in every single gathering I could. You know, just wake up and do what I feel like doing type stuff. Also, my parents had a couple things they needed done on the house, which would keep me occupied and from becoming a completely lethargic lud. And I felt I had reached the end of my time in the North and needed some time to plot a plan to get out.

Well after seven weeks, I can say I've definitely had a couple weeks of summer serenity, but I've also learned a lot about myself -- namely, if there's nothing to motivate me each day, I become completely unmotivated.

Again, I'll explain.

I don't know if mistakenly being given anti-depressants instead of antibiotics in June had something to do with my mood or if it was the nearly complete lack of summer weather, but it's been a bizarre month and a half. With the exception of some visits home from friends, a fishing trip to the East Arm and some ball tourneys, the summer has been pretty uneventful and -- believe it or not -- stressful and, quite often I've been bored.

When left to my own devices, I stay up late, sleep in even later, and the habit first thing in the morning has been to pick up the laptop and check the same 10 webpages, 10 times, burning an hour before slipping on some clothes and getting a coffee.

Plans are made in my mind, ideas blow around in my brain, but largely, they go ignored.

I've read one quarter of four books, and half of another. For one week or so, I cooked myself a meal nearly every evening, but since I've resorted back to delivery and Delissio. I have a mandolin begging to be mastered, story ideas pleading to be pursued, but I'll sit stupid in front of a newscast or sports highlights for an hour, watching the same stories over and over.

I think I was a little deluded and overly optimistic getting into this and I'll tell you why. Last September, upon returning from Iqaluit, I had about a week off. I was ecstatic and told myself I would just watch movies and relax. Well, three hours into my first day, I was restless and bored stiff.

This summer, nearly all of my friends work during the day and so most of my time is spent thinking of things to do. Also, the money has been disappearing quicker than it did while I was working because, no surprise, when you don't have anything to do the next day, you have less keeping you from going out at night -- and for longer. As another 'no-shit' consequence, I've found I've been partying more and when an activity which is typically intended to blow-off steam after a week of work becomes something you do even though you have no steam to blow off, it's not as fun.

As a result, I've learned that being unemployed is not for me. I'm not sure exactly what that means. Am I a sad product of our capitalist conditioning (where one is made to feel useless if they are not part of the machine) or am I just stuck wondering what I'm supposed to do next or where I belong? By trying to save money, I'll stay home. By staying home and panicking (a little bit) about money, I start wondering what I should do next and trying to reconcile rationality (stay in Yellowknife for a little longer, make some good money and then leave the North with a job already in place in the south) with my longing to try something new (just up and leaving and trying to make a go for myself somewhere else -- wherever that may be.)

I'm not at all intending this to come off as whiney or anything. It's just my coming to a realization that I need to have something to take up my days, because when it's up to me to fill them myself, I'm more likely to lay on a couch thinking about things to do rather than going out and doing things.

I've taken to doing puzzles for fuck sakes. I'm pretty sure a puzzle should never be the biggest accomplishment in a day for a young man in his prime.

I came up with an idea last week that would have made the summer far more interesting. I could have asked friends or my fellow slingers of lingo to suggest a new skill, recipe or activity for me to try each day. Of course with my sin-filled mind, the idea later devolved to having people put up odds as to whether I could accomplish the task. That would have been boss.

Oh well. C'est la vie.

Anyways, I do have some stuff planned. I'm flying out of here Aug. 31 to Edmonton then maybe on to Calgary for a day before heading to Chicago, NY and Boston to watch some ball games, see some sights, and take in a comedy show or two. From there, it's off to Iceland (the land of hotsprings, volcanoes and free coffee, apparently) for a couple weeks. I need to experience that feeling of seeing something entirely new again. You know the feeling: you step off the plane and you can already feel new parts of your brain tingling, like it's waking up, rejuvenated, firing away for the first time in months.

After Iceland, it's all up in the air. May visit some friends in Halifax with Patch and if I have enough coinage, a quick jaunt to Ireland. If that doesn't pan out, it's time to pan Canada for a job, and if that doesn't work, I could be back in Yellowknife for Christmas, to try to get a government job -- or another high-paying job -- play hockey with the boys, scan the south for work and then leave with my pockets full and with a guaranteed job after next summer. Although another winter makes me cringe.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

jungin malaria

All my people,


A blood borne disease that is the result of a microscopic parasite transmitted by the bite of an infected mosquito. It stays in your blood stream, can remain dormant for extended periods of time and recurringly strike when you least expect it.

Ed has a buddy who got Malaria in Africa a few years ago and apparently, once a year he gets sick as hell and has to miss weeks of work at a time to deal with it. Redman said it best when he said, "I ain't havin that."

This bitch kills millions of people every year and is on the list of diseases that the planet is trying the hardest to eradicate. Along with jungle fever, and road rage.

Anyways, its all over India and thats where we're heading in like 2 hours. So I've been taking Malaria pills once a day for the last 3 weeks in preparation of a mosquito bite that may or may not occur.

When I spoke to my doctor before leaving I told him I wanted one of the easier drugs on my system since I was going to be trying hard to try smoking opium while I was in Asia. He completely stopped what he was doing and says with a straight face "are you serious?" I said "nah, ha ha uhh haha uhhh why? Would that be bad?"

"I can't advocate that as a physician, the smoking of anything is bads for your lungs."

I asked "but say I was to theoretically spend the next 5 weeks in an opium den in Bangkok, I need the Malaria medication that is going to be most friendly to my system." Of course, I said all this with a smile hoping that he would realize I was joking. He obviously didn't get the joke. Him and my mother should hang out.

So he told me that there is one drug Mefloquine which is popular cause its cheap and only has to be taken once a week. I told him done and done. Of course he read me the side effects which are completely insane so I opted for another drug as deoxycycline is less effective in India also.

Seriously, google Mefloquine side effects. Morgan, Levi, Levis woman, Predator, everyone I talked to said it made them so sketched out they stopped taking it completely. Well they weren't going to India where there are 1.6 billion people and if only 0.5% of them have Malaria thats, well shit, I told you about my math skills on the fly, its a ton of people and a ton of mosquitos who probably like the look of white boys.

As an aside, the portions here are so small I have to punch a new hole in my belt. The camo shorts are hangin low.

So Dicker walked into the Banff pharmacy as I was getting my $250 prescription of Malarone, he said "thats one expensive mosquito repellant." Dickerhead. When I told Predator I got Malarone he said "oh dude thats the worst one." Naturally I assumed he was just fuckin with me cause thats what I assume when the majority of my friends tell me things, as I'm sure they do when I tell them anything.

So about midway through Thailand (5 days on the pills) I started getting uneasy, a little anxious, and maybe even a bit depressed which is insane since I was in one of the most beautiful places I've ever been in the world. Tomorrow is country 35 and Ko Phi Phi, Thailand is at or very near the top of my list. So it meant the Malarone was working.

Good I guess.

Then the dreams started.

One of the side effects of most Malaria medication is intense vivid dream sequences. I never remembered my dreams ever. When I quit smoking a year ago, (Happy Birthday Bealer by the way, although theres no way he's reading this far, which might be better, he might be expecting a postcard or something) I started remembering my dreams but only for about 2 weeks then it was back to waking up still drunk or hungover but not remembering what happened after the bar, or what I had dreamt that night.

Well let me tell you folks, for those of you that haven't done Malarone before. I wouldn't say its as good as Salvia, I wouldn't say try it unless you're trying to ward of parasitic microbes, but I'll say this, holy fuckin hell is it making me partially insane.

My dreams are getting progressively weirder and weirder and weirder. I thought it was wierd (I knew it was i before e) the first time I woke up and said to Ed "dude, I had the wierdest dream last night." He basically finished the sentence with me so we started making notes. 

The first one I am recalling, I was in an old school world war 1 style airplane. You know the one from cartoons where the person is exposed to the outside and there is a dude behind him or some shit? So I'm flying this plane, and the plane is loaded with pallets of beer, and the beer cans are the ammo for this bizarre turret gun that I'm responsible for shooting, while I kid you not, a cartoon is flying. I don't know if it was a cartoon, or if I just couldn't see the pilot well or what, but I seem to think it was like Yogi Bear or one of them old school Hanna Barbera jerk offs piloting our bird.

So I gotta load the cannon, but for some reason instead of opening a zillion cans and dumping them out and mashing the can into the barrel I'm drinking every beer. So I'm opening the beer cans 6 at a time, and pouring the beer into my face and then loading the cannon. I'm having no problem drinking 6 beer at a time either. I remember we were shooting down planes and doing aerial stunts. I got my dick out pissin into a urnal built into the front of the seat of the plane cause I've drank like 12 flats of beer but I've gotta keep loading the cannon to shoot the enemy. Then I woke up.

Ed claims that night, he dreamt he went to a beach party that was surrounded by inflatable castle walls and to gain admission you had to practice your tattoo skills on some random dudes back. So Ed spent the night tattooing this guys back while watching the party rage on trying to get into the "club."

Another night I was at my mothers house in Nova Scotia, but it was completely different. Everything looked different, cabinets, furniture, everything. My sisters were there with me, and when I looked in the backyard there were thousands of cats in the backyard. I asked if they had been planting catnip back there, and immediately my sisters ran into the backyard with garden rakes and started screaming at them, shooing them away, THOUSANDS of cats. Then I woke up.

Since then I've woken up to music playing, and gotten out of bed to turn it off, and then woken up in bed to no music, and nothing around that could have been playing music. I've also woken up to turn off the tv, and as I'm turning it off woken up in bed in a hotel room with no tv.

Ed claims one night him and I were contestants on Iron Chef. He said that our opponents were trying to have us disqualified because I had run over a Howler Monkey and had brought it in to the tv studio and used it as a secret ingredient in one of our dishes. He said the crowd was in hysterics and was cheering for us but he woke up while the judges were deciding whether or not the monkey was a suitable ingredient.

I also rode a sled (snowmobile) off an enormous cliff with Pred, Bennett, Miniki and like 4 other people on it with me. Like the kind of cliff you die when you ride off. Jim Mullan and Ryan Sparks were mechanics at a body shop in North Alton, Nova Scotia who were remaking the entire body of my 4Runner, and Ian Peck was makin beats with Dr. Dre. Jims comment was, "Peck is seriously sick with the beats."

What the fuck is happening to me?

I'm fuckin dead serious about all this shit. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Malaria pills are making me insane. When I told a guy from Germany waiting for a visa about it today at the Indian Embassy in Singapore he said "you sure you not on some other drugs?" I said "no, why? you got any Valium?" He didn't laugh. Him and my mother should hang out.

I'm watching as a hundred Indian ladies in Sari's are heading toward the departure gate. Holy shit, I'm actually going to India, in like an hour. Thank god I'll be a complete raving lunatic when I land, the transformation will finally be complete.

I'm not sure why I felt this was something to tell you? 

My flight is boarding. Wish me luck.



gnwt? john todd? atco? i'm dizzy? je ne sais quoi?

Even though he retired from territorial politics nearly 10 years ago, John Todd still has the ear of many in the North and Ottawa, say those who have hired him as a consultant.

And while he has worked for the territorial government and ATCO in the past year, both parties say he is not involved in ATCO's proposal to merge with the government-owned Northwest Territories Power Corporation.

"I don't think he'll be involved in negotiations," said Jerome Babyn, ATCO spokesperson, who acknowledged Todd had worked for the company off-and-on for a number of years.

However, Babyn said Todd could be useful because of his ties to the North.

"Certainly, Mr. Todd, wherever he has contacts with people, if he can be helpful in that regard, then certainly we will ask him to introduce us to certain people if need be," said Babyn.

In the past year and a half, Todd has provided consulting advice to cabinet members, like Premier Floyd Roland and Finance Minister Michael Miltenberger.

Since taking over as Premier, Floyd Roland has flown to Edmonton at least twice for "strategic advisors" meetings with Todd.

John Todd Holdings Inc. received $72,000 from the government during the 2007-08 fiscal year.

Roland said he's been meeting with Todd since he was finance minister in the 15th Legislative Assembly.

"The fact that he's been in government in the past, he's made his connections with key people in the system," said Roland.

"When it comes to the work that we had him do, there are times that when he's working with other companies, we've asked him to set up meetings for us and he's done that."

He said Todd was instrumental in saving the government $48 million during the 15th assembly, by setting up meetings in Ottawa, to argue the federal government not adjust its level of financing to the territory on the NWT.

"We've used him for other work and opening doors initially whether in Ottawa or Calgary," he said.

Roland said the government has used Todd's services since it began looking at the ATCO proposal, but he said Todd hasn't been hired to do any work relating to the power corporation.

"Specifically to our own initiative, we have our own team put together to do our reviews," he said.

"It's incumbent on us. We know who he works for."

When contacted May 19, Todd said he had to double-check with ATCO before commenting on his work with the company.

He did not return subsequent phone calls.

Babyn said Todd's experience in the North allows him to introduce ATCO to key influential customers in the North – specifically in the Eastern Arctic with the ATCO Frontec division of the company.

He said ATCO officials still have not sat down with the government for substantive negotiations.

"We've just really had some high-level, really just touch base stuff on that," he said, adding the company's proposal will likely be looked at following the government's energy and power corporation reviews.

Babyn said in April the proposal was basically a starting point for the government and ATCO to meet and discuss what a partnership or merger might look like.

The GNWT's review team reported to Roland with an initial look at the proposal May 25. The document spells out what was discussed and what will be looked at in future meetings.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

vlad on the record

I understand this means absolutely nothing to most everybody who stops by here, but...

according to, after my boy Vladimir Guerrero belted his 399th and 400th HR tonight, he joins some exclusive company.

He is now one of only six players in baseball history to have hit 400 HR, while also owning at least a .320 batting average.

The other five?

Jimmie Foxx, Lou Gehrig, Stan Musial, Babe Ruth and Ted Williams.

In otherwords, no one has accomplished this who has played in the past 56 years. And the other five guys who have are considered in the top-20 best players of all-time discussion.

Just a little stat nerdiness on a Monday evening.

Congrats, Vlad

Monday, August 10, 2009

patrick kane: or fists in the mirror may be closer than they appear

Watch out, Cabbie

I have to tell you, I am not at all surprised.

If you're a hockey fan, you have no doubt heard the news. If you aren't, you can quickly catch up to speed on the off-season activities of one Patrick Kane.

Long story short: Patrick Kane, the pint-sized forward for the Chicago Blackhawks, allegedly punched a cabbie at 5 a.m. Sunday, after the cabbie couldn't provide Kane with 20 cents change for a $13.80 cab fare in Buffalo, NY, according to a police report. Kane had given him $15 and the cabbie provided him with $1 change. Note: Kane pulled in a cool $3.725 million last year.

I must say, I saw this long ago. I don't tend to hate things or people irrationally. I really don't. 

But when I do feel the all-too familiar twinge of disdain, there is generally a reason, which may not come to light for days, months or even years.

Back on May 10, I wrote:
"I hate Kane. He's a little biatch. Honestly, there aren't many NHLers I would ever say that about, on the oft-chance that I'd ever run into them in real life after they read my blog, but I swear, I could kick the shit out of Kane. I don't like Kane."

I admit, those were harsh words. But now, I feel they have been validated.

In truth, I truly believe Kane logged onto slinginlingo (as it is widely-known as one of the most popular blogs amongst NHL players) read the post and took it upon himself to shed the wimpy guy image, and started with this poor cab driver. I suppose next week sometime, an unsuspecting bus driver will miss Kane's stop and the 2008 Calder Winner will toss him/her out the window. From there, he could move on to pilots and then ferry captains. Who knows? I would be worried if I was the zamboni driver at the United Centre though.

Anyways, I'm sure this thing will be settled out of court and Kane won't receive much of any retribution. I am surprised by one aspect of this story though: how was his name released? Isn't there a publication ban on the names of juvenile delinquents? Oh, he's 20. My bad.

Exclusive Patrick Kane mugshot. 

Note: The preceding post has nothing at all to do with Kane's performance against the Vancouver Canucks in last year's playoffs. At all. We at slinginlingo are far bigger than joining the media doggypile on a person when they are down. Especially if that person near single-handedly broke their heart (like he broke a cab driver's glasses) with one backhand in an elimination game months ago. We're definitely classier than that.

P.S. Patrick Kane is a no-good bully, and was the first person to get -- and transmit -- swine flu.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

resolution: funny story

Thought I'd share this tale with you all, not because it has any particular value in the wisdom or helpfulness department, but because I just shake my head and laugh every time it gets stranded on the shores of my memory banks.

About a year and a half ago, I took a really quick trip over to Egypt on company flight passes when I was employed with a Northern airline. I was able to get over for a fraction of what it would cost normally and figured what the hell, I'd wanted to go see the pyramids and temples as long as I could remember.

Anywho, I scheduled about two or three days at the tail end of the 8 or 9 day trip for London, England -- a city which I've kind of had a love affair with since first visiting it in 2002. I wanted to see a show, and just sit around inconspicuously drinking coffee in cafes and pints in pubs. And of course, I checked myself back in to St. Christopher's Inn -- a wicked hostel full of great memories and many more which I cannot recollect.

One evening, feeling a little lonely, I decided to sign-up for a pub crawl, which would take us to about five different spots over a couple hours. Now I knew what to expect -- the "crazy" party tourists who would do pretty much anything and make complete asses out of themselves because they were away from home for the first time probably and they would try to outdo each other for the top and most memorable story from that evening -- and although I was still a little pooped (and swollen) from Egypt, the longing for social interaction trumped all and pushed me to pints.

Sitting in the hostel pub awaiting the start of the crawl, I sat down and started chatting with two American ladies from San Fransisco. In five minutes, I discovered that one of the ladies had made having a one-night stand her New Years Eve Resolution -- it was the second week of January. Apparently, she had never had one and always got super-attached with any guy she'd slept with, which I guess wasn't having very good results. She thought a one-night stand would change her attitudes. I laughed.

So we set out for the first bar -- a pack of about 20 of us (3/4 horny dudes) with half of the group already quite tipsy -- and news of this lady's resolution must have gotten out because she was surrounded like a wounded moose by a pack of wolves. Guys were buying her drinks, carrying her around. It was a scene.

Fast-forward two bars later and she is making out with a guy with long hair and a beard. Her friend is rolling her eyes in the seat beside her. I say goodnight and head back to my room in a haze of alcohol. I pick up some laundry in my room and bring it upstairs where I meet some really cool Argentinians and spend a couple hours talking with them, as the drunkest of the drunk filter into the hostel.

The next morning, I bump into the lady's friend. Apparently, her friend -- one-night stand lady -- slept with the guy that night. 

"Mission Accomplished," I said.

She winced. I was right... except, the two were now out sightseeing together.

And this went on for another full day.

As is customary with people you meet for an instant and will probably never see again, we added each other as friends on Facebook. While I didn't think much of it at the time, I am extremely grateful we extended each other this courtesy, as I've been able to watch through status updates the progression of the relationship -- from single to it's complicated to in a relationship... to engaged.

Yes, my friends. Engaged.

She in San Fransisco. He in London.

I saw as they'd visit each other. And read the complaints about not seeing the other person or the distance or whatever.

And now they're engaged.

That's a long night.

"How did you two meet?"

That's some kind of wedding story.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

famous last words

Famous last words?

I've jumped on Deerhunter late, I think. But at the same time, they're a band I've always enjoyed. They're callin' out vampires right here, baby!

Monday, August 3, 2009

rip baatin

RIP Titus Glover (Baatin): 1974-2009

Came back from a weekend on the East Arm of Great Slave Lake, camped out in Pauline Bay, with my body now completely immune to sandfly and mosquito bites, and with about 15 cuts off all kinds on each of my fingers, my feet and legs.

It was great to finally get out there after summers of schedule conflicts keeping me in the city. I hadn't been out there since I was a wee lad and it's something I've got to do again. We fished all day Saturday, and while General Sherman stayed at bay, our boat did manage to haul about 20 or so lake trout -- ranging in size from about 8 to 19lbs. Unfortunately, our companion ship got skunked.

Highlights: Felch's new Harry Potter scar caused by rifle recoil and BS's spontaneous Michael Jackson appreciation rant.

The trip was direly needed, and I once again found it odd that I've lived in Yellowknife most of my life, and still there is so much this place offers that I haven't experienced. Like ripping through Devil's Channel and checking out an old exploration camp (where I finagled a MacDonald Export tobacco tin that's got to be at least 40 years old.)

It was a nice -- albeit, short -- detox from the everyday.

However, the return brought with it some sad news. Another founding member of Slum Village was found dead Sunday.

Baatin -- the nasally, off-the-wall, spiritual sage of the group -- died in Detroit at 35.

That means two of SV's original members - J Dilla and Baatin -- have now passed.

I first became familiar with the group when I picked up Fantastic Vol. 2 on a whim at a used CD shop in Calgary. When I first put it on, I fell in love but it took me a while to realize why - a lot of the lyrics were non-sensical, there's nothing that jumps out at you. But that's why it was so refreshing. It didn't sound like anything else and didn't try to be anything other than what it was, which was purely pure. The beats were hypnotic and soothing and the flow -- which I have to confess I enjoy more than even the greatest lyric -- was always perfectly suited to the track Dilla laid down. These guys used their voices and their words like they were just another layer on the track, like another instrument.

Baatin was the so-called crazy member of the group. He always had a different angle, an out-of-this-world perspective, CRAZY FLOW and he wasn't afraid to say anything. When reading about the making of Fantastic Vol. 2, I remember hearing stories about how on the track 'Get dis money,' T3 and Dilla had to try like hell to get Baatin to rap about the track's subject, but he kept going off on crazy tangents about reincarnation and things of that nature. If you listen to the track now, it sounds like they pieced together two different tracks for his verse.

Baatin was with the group for the next album - Trinity - and appeared on Detroit Deli but left the group after reportedly becoming sick of touring. He fell on some dark days following his departure, spiraling into drug addiction and later being diagnosed with schizophrenia. At this time, he fought unsuccessfully to rejoin the group he helped start. According to reports, he then lived homeless for around a year, but cleaned his act up, released a solo album and reunited with Slum Village, for an album that will be coming out this September.

Baatin's got the third verse: Conversations with the most high makes me wanna cry/ I wonder why/ you wanna get to paradise but that itty, bitty part of you don't wanna die

Baatin's got the last verse. This is from the Trinity album.

Baatin's got the last verse: Ecstasy/ callin' you, callin' me/ I know your hubby ain't givin' you no action/ well for one, he's too damn masculine/ he needs to take some lessons on givin you a climax

Slum Village's music accompanied many firsts in my life and to this day, Fantastic Vol. 2 is one of the only albums that - no matter how lousy I may feel - I can put it on and immediately become happy.

Now, at least for the time being, I feel sad listening to it.