The Observer's Blog

Banff

If you Googlism-ed Banff, you'd find only one statement that I know to be but true: Banff is wonderful. And even that is pretty imprecise. Banff is a phenomenon. Banff is a band.

I never thought I'd so enjoy a band that plays 90% covers (the other 10% being improv, not original material), but the dire music scene here has forced me to broaden my live-show horizons. Banff would be nothing but an ordinary bar band were it not for their "fans" (i.e., their friends, girlfriends, acquaintances, and friends of friends). On weekends when fans are sparse the Banff show becomes the obligatory exercise in loudish classic rock music that drowns out the conversations and flirtations of the middle-aged Waikiki pub-crawlers. However, on nights when the fans are present in sufficient numbers, the unsuspecting regular patrons are shaken from their routine by a bunch of twenty-somethings (peppered with some grayer folk) dancing in front of the small stage in the corner of the bar. I've never experienced anything like it. The origins of this phenomenon will perhaps always be shrouded in mystery, but it's rumored that it all began with the uncontrollable foot-tapping of one Mark "Dancing Fool" Willman and a glass of cheap whiskey.

On May 21/22 one of the many Banff miracles occurred. A double-birthday had to be celebrated. Leis had been bought, people had flown in from the mainland, other people had their people call those people's people, and Japanese consultants were hired. But for all this activity, one thing was lacking: a nexus through which to celebrate this confluence of double-birthday and reunion. The organizers convened and they soon realized they could frame the entire event around five words: Banff is playing Saturday night. And so there actually was an event for all the various interested parties to attend, and it went off more successfully than would have been possible otherwise. All of this would have been impossible without the intervention of Banff.

Until my big toe heals from a short Asian dude landing on it last night; however, I will not be able to dance to the stirring renditions of "I'll Take You There" and "Welcome to Your Barbecue". When I regain full function of my big toe however, I have a major decision to make. Is the Crazy Robot ready to take on Banff? (I was hoping to make "Crazy Robot" a link, but I recalled incorrectly what pictures were available on the Information Superhighway.)

A Walking, Talking Yearbook

"Hello, you must be Chris Baker!" Imagine you were Chris Baker and someone you had never seen before in your life came up to you and said this at a party. You would probably get the sudden urge to loosen your necktie.

Chris Baker is real, and that stranger is I. Thanks to the documentation efforts of the flashy Daniel Do, my role as a walking, talking yearbook will soon be reinstated. Over the Christmas break I wowed erstwhile first year med students with my knowledge of both their given names and surnames. This knowledge was imparted to me by v1.0 of the Daniel Do Name Learning System. In two 4-hour sessions on the road, I learned the names of all the med students that had been documented up to that time. Now, with the new DDNLS v1.1 many more students faces have been added to the database in many more settings than previously available, such as sports activities and a formal ball as well as an expanded drinking section.

Something Nobody Has Asked Me About

Many times I have been asked to post something new over the last week. Many times by one lady Ms. Lara Hanson (because of the allegedly inappropriate nature of my previous post). Here are some things no one has asked me about:

1. What happened to my cell phone
2. The scars on my elbow and middle finger
3. Cara Crouch
4. The demon I saw three weeks ago
5. Now with Bill Moyers
6. Divine v. human love
7. The Dodgers

Where Have All the Friends Gone?

Some I've stayed in touch with, others I have not. Below is a figure to illustrate. One I am in touch with, the other I am not.