Danny Brown - "Grown Up"

     Edmund sits in Jen's backyard, watching the sun set warmly with Tate. With a sweating summery drink in his hand, he is craving marijuana. Strange how it's fine to drink in front of children, but lighting a smoke is suddenly a bad example. He looks up at the jet streams cutting lines across the sky and they look like thin pinner joints or coke. He takes another sip of the bitters. Tate is playing with an iPad, and his intuition with it is staggering. He can't read or write, his vocabulary is above average, but his skill with a touchscreen is off the charts. Or if there were charts for this, they would need to be re-imagined, or Tate could zoom to their apex or organize the line of best fit. Tate cooks a digital meal, puts puzzle pieces together, lifts fake people into a balloon and splashes fake water at a fake paper until the ink runs all streaks. Edmund half expects him to point it at one of the criss-crossing planes, hit some buttons, and watch it explode. It seems like he understands this technology far more than he understands an interaction with Edmund. Edmund is the iPad's friend, he is sponsored by the iPad, he is offered, censored and friendly, unsmoking and buzzed, as a temporary stream, accessible with a hideable ad for the clothes he's wearing, and the drink he's holding. A branded thing of father, brought to you by mother, car, front door, hallway, kitchen, and back door. The sky is busy, the grass is busy, his blood is busy, but Tate's father is still. His mouth open to speak, but huffs closed in a tight-lipped shrug. [free at Scion A/V]

Sleeping in the Aviary - "Things Look Good"

     Evelyn, Edmund's daughter, 17, is in a ride-along with Officer Getty. She's doing her community service hours for Students in Society (Ms. Clave) and getting her journalism assignment (Mr. Beaudreau) done at the same time.
      "Well, I moved here from Winnipeg three years ago, my wife and I and our son. But man, I'm regretting that move now..."
     "Why's that?" Evelyn is underdressed for the occasion, her usual tights and slipper shoes make her suddenly feel vulnerable, like she was never safe all this time.
      "The Jets are back." Getty drives at the limit, always, his on-board laptop at the ready. The radio crackles.
      "The jets?"
      "Yeah. The hockey team. I can't believe I'm missing those games."
      Evelyn scratches out the heading "jets" with two lines, "Oh, I see."
      "They sold out the whole season in like 2 hours. When I heard that, I mean, I'm a pretty tough guy, but I teared up a little bit."
      Evelyn looks at her list of questions, "What do you think of police brutality?"
      They pass night sprinklers and the flashing eyes of walked dogs.
      "I don't participate in it."
      "But do you think it's a problem?"
      "I think that police have a tougher time nowadays, yeah." silence. "With the internet."
      "So you don't think brutality is a problem? What do you think about Trayvon Martin?"
      His speed gets faster. Evelyn gets a little rush of excitement, these cars are powerful. "You're making yourself sound like an idiot."
      To hear an adult say idiot in this way, meant to hurt and nothing else, Evelyn felt all of life stretch and pull like a slingshot. This could be anybody sitting next to her. "Why do you say that?"
     "That wasn't a police officer! He was a neighbourhood w--hat the f--"
      Getty made an arrest that night. Edmund, drunk, was caught spraypainting a doobie hanging out of the mouth of Bob Tunn, a local real estate agent featured on a prominent billboard ("Sold Another Tunn!") on the turn into the Center Square mall. Edmund said nothing, and could only picture himself and his daughter, years later, possibly able to chuckle about this. Evelyn wrote in her report that it was "a man, early forties, not-too-tall, brown hair with few grey saltings. Unharmed during the arrest." [Buy]

FOR MY OWN BENEFIT

Jordan Himelfarb, whose posts you read monthly, is one-half of a comedy duo called The New Humourists. They are performing live for the first time in Toronto as part of a fundraiser show called FOR MY OWN BENEFIT, raising money for pancreatic cancer research at the Princess Margaret Hospital. This is a show very dear to us at Said the Gramophone, and its first edition will be next TUES MAR 27th at PARTS & LABOUR, 1566 Queen West at Sorauren. There will be delightful guests from Mark Little (Dad Drives!) to Anders Yates (Uncalled For!) to Tony Ho. Please come, we would love to see you, meet you, laugh with you. [Facebook event]

If you cannot attend in person, but would still like to make a donation, please visit the website formyownbenefit.com and you can donate online. Charitable tax receipts (it's a Canadian hospital) can be provided.