From the “I am not Tiger Woods” dept.

Up at 6:00 am.

Played golf at Dentonia this morning, but get this: We’re there early, sign in, go to the tee off, only to find out that our names were never in the queue.

We’re like, “WTF?! We made the reservations on Tuesday for Saturday 8:08 am.”

Turns out that the mofos signed up in for Sunday, and not Saturday.

Fools.

Anyways, we ended off teeing 8:30 am, which isn’t bad, but still…

We made a bet: “The worst golfer pays for lunch. The best golfer buys drinks.”

I know, there’s no real incentive to win (who want’s to buy drinks?), but it was all good.

Final scores are as follows for an 18-hole course, par 3:

1st: Kevin Ng – 90
2nd: Eric Tchao – 92
3rd: Tai Toh – 101 (damn it! Couldn’t get below 100!)
4th: Florence Chow – 105

True to her word, Flo bought lunch at Ming’s Curry at MetroSquare.

Kevin had the most wicked putt on the 17th hole….damn.

I think I take the cake for best tee off. I actually hit for par. Amazing shots…you should have seen the putt. I judged the lay of the land correctly, and aimed my putt with the right angle to get this amazing curve on the roll, right in to the hole.

Amazing.

Unfortunately it was all downhill from there.

From the “Wonders and Disappointments of Cirque du Soleil” Dept.l

Saw Varekai in the afternoon. To be honest, I wasn’t that impressed. I think I built it up all in my head. From a technical standpoint…amazing acrobatics, set design, costumes and live music, but I felt that the entire piece was missing something.

It didn’t seem fresh enough.

Perhaps it was the fact that I was dehydrated through the 1st half (pounded back a 750 ml Lemonade in like 30 seconds during the intermission…ahh, refreshing). Another reason was mish-mash of music and thematic styles. Varekai was suppose to be a “Romanian”based peice, but the music was all over the place; Chinese, Romanian, Spanish, African, etc. Then there was the story: it made no sense-or perhaps I missed something…

Angel (man with wings) loses his wings and falls to earth, his wings are stolen, he meets a forest princesss, they fall in love, she is kidnapped. Next thing you know they’re both getting married. Umm, where was the part about the “daring rescue” or “recovering his wings”?

Perhaps it was the heat within the tent, or perhaps it was the fact that it was dark and I had woken up at 6:00am this morning, but I started to doze at the second last performance (Flying Wonder Twins).

From the “Did I watch that much TV when I was young?” Dept

About the “Flying Wonder Twins”—Two men, dressed in mirror images of each other. They touch hands together:

I want to shout: “Wonder Twin Powers, Activate! Form of a…”

Nobody, and I mean nobody, understood the joke. So I’ve taken this section to illuminate some of those who are not as well versed in pop-culture….

Do you remember the wonder twins, Jayna and Zan from the Superfriends?

They used to work with the Justice League of America (Superman, Batman, Robin, Wonderwoman, etc.)

They’re powers were “activated” when the twins linked hands and shouted:

Both: “Wonder Twin Powers, Activate!”
Jayna: “Form of a (animal name)!”
Zan: “Form of a (water formation)!”

Jayna (the female) could turn herself into any animal that she could pronounce (vulture, giraffe, etc.), and Zan could (in my opinion, he got the short end of the stick) turn into water and any of it’s forms (snow, ice, fog, etc.). They also had a pet monkey with a bucket (to carry Zan when he was in water form) called Gleek. Perhaps Zan wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer: He could have turned him self into “super hot steam” or a “Tsunami” or something….

Stupid.

From the “Old timers evening” Dept.

After Cirque du Soleil, we drove up to Bay Subway station and took the subway to Chester Station for the Taste of Danforth.

I had some corn-on-the-cob and some mussels.

My feet were tired, my body sore from a work out that I had done on Friday, and my wrists were tight from golf.

We ended going to Spring Rolls on Yonge for a late dinner (instead of buying dinner at the food festival; too much of a hassle).

Then we sat in traffic on the DVP to get back home at 12:45am.

It wasn’t even 1:00 am, and I felt zonked.

-T