Meta Contest Update

So far we have 5 entries in the new Meta Contest:

1. Urban Pedestrian: one of Aggie's home-made muumuus;
2. Woodsy: the t-shirt with "Rock on" spelled out on the front and "Anyhoo" on the back specifically, one of those very tight slinky numbers (size petite);
3. Urban Pedestrian: a new pair of pink go-go boots, size 7 1/2;
4. Harmony: World Peace; specifically first inner disarmament, then outer disarmament; and
5. Apostrophe: a kick in the ass.

One of the contestants has decided to call on various world leaders to influence our decision-making. Perhaps this will sway other contest judges, but not me.

You still have time to enter, and the earlier you enter, the more time you have for your lobbying efforts.

City of Spires II

(Or: The Environment Is the Economy...)
(... Stupid.)

Each autumn, I become a cranky coyote. Something to do with being 'bout six thousand years old, and having the arthritis that goes with that, even if I am partly mythical. And really, I'm not very patient with patent stupidity at the best of times.

When ya combine these two coyote factoids in a guy that watches CPAC while he gnaws his coffeebreak bones (I know. Perverse. And likely to cause indigestion.) ya can imagine the extremity of the yapping aimed at the TV.

I'm especially fascinated (read: 'galled') lately by politipeople who claim to know what's going on in this country cautioning us that "we must balance environmental concerns against the needs of a healthy economy."

Fuck. The environment is the economy.

Let's make this simple, with a metaphor even I can understand: piss in your own bed (or, say, souse it with oil sand tailings) and it ain't worth nothin' anymore -- to you, your children, or anybody else. Everything, including the economy, will be damp, smelly and unhealthy. Why is this simple connection so hard for allegedly 'smart politicians' and 'smart businessmen' to grasp?

So, check out the wondrous sky over Parliament Hill. Because global climate change starts there...

Return of the Meta Contest

The time has come to launch the second part of the meta contest.

How to Win:

• Before 7pm, Thursday, 8 November 2007, write a comment on this post suggesting a prize.

The Winner Will Receive:

• The very prize that they suggested.

The Winner will be determined by consensus of the Elgin Street Irregulars. No consensus = No winner.

Words that won't get you laid

Audrey sent me a link today for a piece by Ariel Leve on the Times online. I suspect that Audrey agrees with Ms Leve.

Words Not To Live By

Sometimes someone will say something and immediately, I’ll lose interest in continuing the rest of the conversation.

A few years ago I went out with a man who ended a message on my answering machine with “rock on”
As in, “I’ll try you again tomorrow….rock on.”
What’s wrong with good-bye? Or nothing at all. Just hang up. We weren’t meant to be.
I’ve discussed this with a few of my friends and I’m not alone. Certain sayings can be an instant turn off.

Here is a partial, not comprehensive, list of things people should stop saying:

1. Pardon my French (after cursing)

2. Anyhoo

3. We’re not in Kansas anymore

4. Rock on

5. What’s the plan Stan?

6. Give me a shout

7. Fancy Shmancy

8. I’m just calling to say howdy

9. Hell-o?

10. Who’d of thunk it?

Now I understand why I so seldom had calls returned after I said "Give me a shout" on voicemails. I wish I had seen this list a long time ago. At least before I bought the t-shirt with "Rock on" spelled out on the front and "Anyhoo" on the back.

Are there other phrases I should be avoiding?

Google Poem: Preparing for the Oscars

I am eternally grateful for this feeling, for him.
I am eternally grateful for all that your father has done to help me while I'm (still) in school.
I am very grateful for the healing work that I do.
I am … most grateful for the generous support of donors and philanthropists.

I am truly grateful for life. And all the wonderful people I have in it.
I am truly grateful for your services.
I am truly grateful for this site, and for showing me a way to approach the study of antiques that I had not been exposed to before.

I am very grateful for the sympathetic and careful attention given to my book.
I am forever grateful for our four children.
I am forever grateful for Blackie, who was my best friend when I felt all alone.

To the men and women of the Onondaga County Republican Committee who worked so hard on my behalf - I am extremely grateful for all you have done.

I am forever grateful for the LIVESTRONG movement, and the passion and power of the community of cancer survivors.
I am extremely grateful for your professional advice and action in obtaining the outstanding £225.

Among many other things, I am profoundly grateful for never having heard the sound of machine gun fire or bombs exploding in my neighborhood.

[*]

Fairy tale town

Ottawa, though populated by many types that pride themselves on real-world pragmatism, is a fairy-tale town. If ya don't buy into this at first glance, go ahead, just scope out the gargoyles on that neo-Gothic pile up on the Hill. Or read one of local author Charles de Lint's books -- he's made a nice career of populating an alternate Ottawa with modern magic.

But there are plenty of other modern fairy tales here, and the fabulists to believe 'em .

The current prime minister, f'rinstance, thinks he's in control of everything... freak. He ain't a boss, so much as a strategy board-game player run amuck.

Certain of that crew of second-stringers sitting in that neo-Gothic pile up on the Hill also think they run the country. Huh. Tell the country that.

Or how 'bout this one? The assorted spin doctors that hang from the tonier walls across town think they actually fool the public. And I know from spin-doctoring. I chase my tail every morning. If I ever catch it, it's self-prescribed Band-Aids and Robaxacet all 'round... I digress.

These fairy tales are, of course, only the most obvious examples. At least to anyone possessed of half an Oreo's worth of creamy whipped filling in their bonces. StatsCan says there are 1,130,761 stories in the naked Census Metropolitan Area. I know a few. But if I told ya, I'd hafta feed you to the grotty trolls that have taken up under the Corktown Bridge. And they'd really appreciate a change from goat roti...

Minutes from Emergency Meeting: October 18

(My apologies for the delay posting the minutes. Some technical problems here).
In attendance: Coyote, 4th Dwarf, Aggie, the Independent Observer.
Purpose of meeting: To discuss AndrewZRX's email, to discuss 4th Dwarf's 7 things Meme Posting.

The meeting began badly. The IO called it for 8 p.m. at the Usual Spot. No one was there at 8 p.m. except 4th Dwarf, who is very punctual. He left, and then returned, pissed off, at 9 p.m. when the meeting really started.

In his email, AndrewZRX asked about our readership. The IO responded, 'shut-ins and prisoners'. Aggie added, 'Well, I think we have cornered the Indy women market'. 'Cornered?' 4th Dwarf asked. 'Seduced some and repelled others,' Coyote clarified. We also agreed that Zoom is a loyal reader, and we have a bunch of New Brunswick anarchists reading us as well. And, of course, we read our blog. That would be our readership, AndrewZRX. Hope that helps, hon!

Second matter of business: 4th Dwarf's responding to the 7 Things Meme without consulting the group. 4th Dwarf apologized to group, but added that if had waited for the rest of us lazy asses, it never would have happened. He added that perhaps Aggie was just uncomfortable because she was singled out for her botched ESI profiling project in which she set out to profile each ESI, but only completed ONE. Aggie fumbled, and then suggested that we need the cogent Megan to come in and bring some healing to the group. Coyote and 4th Dwarf agreed. The IO had reservations: 'Wouldn't that be like admitting weakness? Like bringing in Merrill Lynch?' Finally, all came around and agreed that we need Megan. We briefly discussed the consulting fee, then moved on to other redacted topics.

Finally, we discussed the ESI contests. Coyote said all the contests were confusing. The IO described them as a 'wilderness of mirrors'. 4th Dwarf went on a long spiel about how we need to be more open, etc.... blah blah.. Aggie suggested he use 'I-statements' instead of 'you-statements'.

Redacted redacted. Blah blah blah. Then, we all went home.

Somerset House

Somerset House, to some, is one of Ottawa's architectural and historical grand dames, even if it's appeared to fall on hard times recently. Okay, so it's on Bank, not Elgin. But we have a proprietary interest in downtown Ottawa, even if the Duke of Somerset was a rather nasty tavern before the building was sold.

The whole edifice lay vacant for a couple of years, endlessly 'awaiting renovation'. But lately things were looking up. Crews were actually renovating, and it looked like upscale retail/restaurant space was finally going to re-anchor Bank and Somerset across from the new Hartman's Independent Grocer, after a lot of arid years. At least until midway through this afternoon, when one of the walls caved in on a crew member in a skid loader in the basement. Hard news details are here, -- they got the guy out okay. These are images of emergency efforts to check the stability of the remaining building. At the time of this post, the other three walls still looked solid, but you can never tell with these things... heritage lovers, keep your fingers crossed.

CBC: Worker rescued after partial building collapse in downtown Ottawa
Citizen: Cage saves worker after building crashes down
Zoom: Swap Box survives building collapse
CBC: Downtown roads shut for 1 week near partial building collapse
Youtube: Jimmy George
CBC: Collapsing Ottawa building's owner given 55 past safety orders
Citizen: City still can't say when roads near collapsed building will open
Zoom: Swap Box saved in daring daylight rescue
Citizen: Now no frickin' idea when roads will re-open: officials
CBC: Building still collapsed; road still closed; Santy Claws Parade rerouted, for cripe's sake...

Questions from Our Guest Blogger AndrewZRX

The winner of Zoom's auction, AndrewZRX, wrote me several days ago:

Greetings Mr. Dwarf,
It seems I have foolishly won an eBay auction for an ESI guest blog. I am new to the ESI experience and therefore require some guidance. What have I actually won? (Do I even want to know?)

Just to fill you in on some boring details about me:
[personal details about Andrew redacted in case he doesn't want to share them with all of you] I myself don't have a blog though I do write some.

Can you give me an idea of the kinds of readers who frequent the ESI blog, and what, if anything, I should be doing regarding this most unfortunate turn of events.

Thanks
Andrew

Yesterday, I replied:

Hello Andrew,

Please, my father is Mr. Dwarf, call me Fourth.

Sorry about the delay in replying. I often forget to check my email.

You've won the opportunity to do a posting on our blog. http://elginstreet.blogspot.com/

We consider ourselves to be a metablog - a blog about blogs, but we also have postings on anything that tickles our fancy.

I'm not sure about what kind of readers we have. Perhaps I can give you a better answer tomorrow.

- 4D

If any of you have thoughts on what I might tell young Andrew, please leave a comment to this posting. The matter was also discussed at an Emergency Meeting largely held to address this topic and I believe Aggie will be posting the minutes any moment now. [After the beating I took for answering the meme all by myself, I don't dare answer Andrew's question on my own initiative.]

Google Poem: Okay, maybe I am

I'm not harassing you, I'm responding to your repeated continuations of this conversation.

I'm not harassing you, I just asked you to give me a smile.

I'm not harassing you, I'm spamming you!

I'm not harassing you, I'm doing my job.

I'm not harassing you. I actually want to love you.

I'm not harassing you I was just interested.

I'm not harassing you, I am asking legitimate questions.

I'm not harassing you, I'm just talking to you.

I'm not harassing you. I'm tormenting you.

I'm not harassing you. I'm just telling you.

I’m not harassing you. I’m making an aside on the typical use of Romans 9.

I’m not harassing you. I’m saying to you, that we pay you almost $60000 a year.

I'm not harassing you. I simply asked you to elaborate on a claim you made in your post that is relevant to the topic.

[*]

Introducing Mumumelon

Okay, the business pages these past months have been full of stories about Canadian sportswear manufacturer/marketing powerhouse/success story Lululemon™: Lululemon™ founder sells out for a gazillion bux! Lululemon™ goes public with a monster IPO! And just yesterday: LuluLemon™ snags a former Starbux™ CFO for its board! Omigawd!

Lululemon™ purveys yoga wear featuring built-in "butt bras". These are purported to make any woman's ass look great. No, great!

Quibbles re: jawdropping prices, and non-yogis wearing the ultra-casual gear in inappropriate business & formal situations are summarily thrust aside by acolytes worshipping at the lululemon™ altar, because their asses look great. No, great!

There are, of course, flies in the lemonade. There always are. The trademark completely-synthetic nylon-spandex pants themselves are said to be prone to pilling faster than cheap 70s leisure suits. Hey, they're synthetic. The fashion police are starting to realize that fashion-impaired teens are stuffing themselves into low-rise lululemons™ five sizes too small, for that winsome plumbers' butt look. And (gasp!) obese people are buying and wearing lululemon™ stuff hoping the pants will whittle 10-odd cheeseburgers from their thighs. These poseurs are driving the brand's cachet downmarket. Unlike, say, all the poseurs I see every day, running around downtown, dressed in lululemons™ and carrying yoga mats™, but for some reason never actually attending any actual yoga™ classes.

But anytime life hands you a sackful of bagged-out, overstretched lululemons™, hey, it's a chance to make us some lemonade. I'm pretty sure no less an authority than Ann Landers herself said it.

So here's the scam: Aggie is becoming a crafter. Who sews quilts. Who is buying a sewing machine. Who can teach the ESIs to sew in conditions that, when we get up to speed, will echo East Asian sweatshops. All perfect for crafting stylish mu'umu'us. Ya heard it here first: Mumumelon™!!!!: exercise wear for all the people who shouldn't wear lululemon™. Given North American obesity rates, I'm pretty sure our target market ain't trivial. We are so going to make a killin'....

Muumuu Cam

The Seven Things Chain Letter

Megan, whom we normally like, fucking tagged us. So we're supposed to do a posting with seven random facts about us.

1. The Elgin Street Irregulars are six actual human beings and not one disturbed individual pretending to be different people.
2. Coyote has been reminded by 4D at least once that he is an actual human being and not a literal coyote.
3. Agatha once decided to write postings profiling each of the ESIs but only wrote one for the Chair.
4. The other ESIs have all acted like they are okay with this, but we probably all wonder why she didn't write that one profile about us instead.
5. There is no fifth random fact about the ESIs.
6. The "no fifth" running gag began when some of the ESIs decided to start using "fifth" and "muse" in their postings so that the Fifth Muse might find us if she did a vanity google.
7. The Fourth Dwarf likes to think he would be Doc, but is far more often compared to Grumpy.

Now, we get to tag others. Any nominations?

Why we love Elgin Street

Back in the heady leadup to the 'we-can-do-anything' days of Expo '67, Canadians heard a lot of talk about the cultural mosaic. No mundane melting pots for us. No sirree. Mutual respect among distinct, yet cooperative, ethnic groups was the societal agenda.

Sadly, that interesting multicultural ideal seemed to be mostly burnt up in a consumeristic hell of 80s yuppiedom. A year into the new millenium, its ashes were pretty well stomped into the mud in a spate of ethnic-profiling paranoia over terrorism.

Pretty well. But here on Elgin Street, if ya want poly-ethnic, we got it. In spades. Up the wazoo. We gotta publog this place the Dwarf spotted, when he was out airing his aspidistra the other day. Whether they serve draught ale or not.

(Oh. And for the uninitiated among our international readers, 'poutine' is a heart-stopping Québécois confection of fresh julienned potatoes, twice french-fried in peanut oil for extra crispiness, salted, covered in fresh cheddar cheese curds, then doused in lashings of hot canned gravy to create the kind of gooey gourmet goodness that only a philistine could reject. Extra salt and ketchup right there on the table beside ya, if ya want 'em....)

Google Poem: Reluctance

I am reluctant to predict possible answers to my questions
I am reluctant to post calls to action
I am reluctant to attend a meeting in West Africa.
Now I Am Reluctant to Post on livejournal.
I got an internship at Merrill Lynch, but I am reluctant to take it

I am reluctant to entertain alternatives that presuppose the traditional subservience of one class to another.

Frankly I am reluctant to adopt that course.

I am sure you will understand when I say that I am reluctant to pick up where Venus left off.
I am reluctant to go along
I am reluctant to point my fingers
I am reluctant to learn Excel
I am reluctant to make a commitment
I am reluctant to upgrade
I am reluctant to teach
I am reluctant to accept the view that there are real benefits from PPPs.
I am reluctant to upgrade software that doesn't work
I am reluctant to have ANYthing to do with formal religion.

I am reluctant to just publish an open map but would rather just add a link.
I am reluctant to venture outside.
I am reluctant to go back to the doctor
I am reluctant to call much attention to my side business
My plan is to become a surgeon, however, I am reluctant to even continue to med school.

I am reluctant to attribute a ‘meaning’ to Found Art

[*]

Does Frank know?

Near the Bayswater tube station, west London / Sunday, Oct. 7, 2007

Zoom's Auction Status

Some ESIs think that Zoom is brilliant for auctioning part of her prize for winning the first Meta Contest. Others think she is stretching the spirit of the rules and wimping out. While we debate this, you, the innocent readers of the metablog, suffer. Why? Because today would have been the start date of the second Meta Contest, but we don't want it to be competing with the Auction.

When in Rome, do as Audrey does

Audrey and I were strolling by the Basilica San Lorenzo the other day when she abruptly stopped, turned and insisted I pause to have a look.

"Aren't these shoes marvellous?" she said, gazing in the men's store window. "Wouldn't it be fun if you tried them on tomorrow?"

"Fun might be stretching the boundaries of the word," I replied.

Ah, Italia. Home of Michelangelo, da Vinci, Brunelleschi.

And Gucci, Versace and Armani.

Yes, in modern Italy, sleek handbags, finely tailored suits and eye-catching shoes compete with Renaissance masterworks for the curious traveller's attention.

And for every 15th-century mural or finely chiselled marble sculpture there is at least one shop window displaying lacy lingerie, silk ties or leather coats. No wonder James Bond feels at home in Italy, gamely speeding under Venetian bridges without even wrinkling his Cardinale slacks.

Though not aggressively unfashionable, the IO spent more time under the Tuscan sun admiring frescoes than footwear. The ever-stylish Audrey, however, is a veritable Siren of foreign fashionistas. And so on occasion I found myself in her company, not comparing the brushwork of Botticelli and Michelangelo but gauging the fit of handsome wool coats.

The wares are undeniably fine. But a touch pricey in the posh boutiques. After all, does one really need to plunk down enough euros for an Armani tie to buy 20 County ales at one of the more inviting Elgin Street pubs?

Walking back to the hotel, we passed a clutch of market-stall street vendors selling less expensive yet still desirable bags, belts and scarves. In fact I picked up three fetching Italian silk ties bearing a respectable fashion-house label for a grand total of a mere 20 euros.

Take that, Mr. Versace.

Guest Posting from Zoom

After some angst and developing stress symptoms, Our first Meta Contest Winner Zoom writes:

Dear ESIs,

I am pleased to submit my guest post to you, and I thank you for your patience. It helped that Aggie pointed out it could be short.

My post consists of a single link: Click here

I trust this satisfies my contractual obligations to the ESIs.

I wish you all the best with your future contests, which I will watch from a safe distance.

Sincerely,

Zoom

Google Poem: Fifteen Potential Books

1. I want to write a book about America. Because I love America
2. I want to write a book about how date night is great for your marriage
3. I want to write a book about the series on the Word program, that would give a history on each antique
4. I want to write a book about my experiences with clients who have been healed through massage
5. I want to write a book about my life to help girls out there that have been raped or been under sexual pressure
   
6. I want to write a book about her!
7. I want to write a book about the struggle I have gone through in the last 8 years trying to get businesses and ideas off the ground
8. I want to write a book about Multiple Sclerosis and its effects on the average person.
9. I want to write a book about teaching children about death and dying. It will be a book that parents and children can read together
10. I want to write a book about my life, not that my life is that meaningful, but there have been 32 bizarre incidents that have happened...
11. I want to write a book about my experiences - life before diagnosis, the hell of hospital treatment, life after etc.
12. I’ve been busy researching a book I want to write - a book about a poor woman living around 1910
13. ...when I got called by the "Today" show, I thought well, it's now or never if I want to write a book about the hobo journey
14. I want to write a book about what it was like to be a slave
    
15. I want to write a book about everything I don’t remember.

[*]

Aggie's perfect storm

Zoom needs a little time to pull her extra-special prize guest bloggage together, but watch this space. It's coming soon, and it's gonna be brilliant! In the meantime, to cover, I'll do what ESIs do best. No, not that. I mean metablogging.

It has become overwhelmingly needful to metablog our own Essex girl.

Evidence suggests Aggie has found that the road to new-age enlightenment is no easy thing, strewn as it is with a perfect storm of pitfalls. And bad hair days. Not to mention bent-to-broken metaphors. Poor thing is now so confused, she's laying off drinking and trying to reinvent herself as a common craft blogger...

What are the ethics, here? Aggie is one of us. I mean, I love her, and she is, like Mary Poppins, Practically Perfect in Every Way. Uh, but she remains in place as our next-best Muse. Better yet, she's not here to defend herself... and we need material. No honour among metabloggers. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, I was at Bank & Slater yesterday, nose to the ground, sniffin' opportunity, when I chanced to look up. And was struck with awe. I mean, the signage at this one corner has Aggie's enlightenment covered: martini lounge named for her favorite yoga position, strong coffee options, a hair salon to repair the unfortunate mullet experiment, and a relaxing day spa. The salon's name? Perfection. Nothing better than that.

And what about that constant, soothing flow of large American cars, huh?

Truly, when one seeks satori, the devil is in the distractions. Crafting? Aggie, we barely recognize you! Just ignore the proven fact that when anyone in a dysfunctional group tries to change for the better, other members will pressure her to return to old, familiar patterns, so they can avoid confronting their own dysfunctions. Instead, think about this, Ags: Lotus Martini Lounge!

The Meta Contest Winner

As was mentioned in the minutes of our last Emergency Meeting, the Elgin Street Irregulars met last week and selected a winner from among the entries to the Meta Contest.

We made a list and checked it twice with thorough discussion of the merits of each entry.

Tiana: choose a location in the city and people need to determine that place via your excruciatingly obscure clues and photos.

Lovely idea for a contest, we're good at excruciatingly obscure, but...

• maybe not so good at clues and photos.
  

A. & J.: Show off hidden gems of Ottawa. Nothing touristy, easily visible and it has to be in the downtown core. Something that only the locals would know about. A real hidden gem.

Lovely idea for a contest, but...

• It would be a fair amount of work; and
  
• We want to keep our gems hidden; look at how the Usual Spot has been wrecked by popularity.
  

Ted: I think you need to recruit a new regular to save your blog.

A new recruit might indeed save our blog. It could be like Rock Star: Supernova or the Search for the Next [Pussycat] Doll and the contestants could be given tasks that would generate blog postings for weeks and weeks (example: This week we want a photo-shopped image including elements from a 60s TV show and Stéphane Dion's shadow cabinet), but...

• We're probably not ready for a new member[*]; and
  
• We don't really want to be like Rock Star: Supernova; we'd rather be like the Ed Sullivan Show.
  

Harmony: I was thinking of hidden gems too. But I know a couple that aren't exactly in the core (though not outside the green belt either!). Could we expand it to include a larger area?

Sorry. We're the Elgin Street Irregulars. We are not suburban people.

zoom: [Entry #1] ... how about a treasure hunt? You hide something wonderful somewhere in the city and offer a series of daily clues (photographic and/or textual) to its whereabouts. The Citizen did this decades ago - they hid a gold bar...

A lovely idea for a contest, but...

• We haven't got a gold bar to give away; and
  
• It's been done.
  

zoom: [Entry #2] You could even have a pre-contest contest in which people could enter their suggestions for prizes.

Congratulations Zoom! This is the perfect suggestion for our next contest because it:

• Is easy;
• Lets us stall a while longer before coming up with a real contest; and
• Perfectly captures the self-referential nature of this blog.
  

A big thank you to all entrants. We regret that there could only be one winner. None of you are losers. (Except in the sense that you did not win, and therefore technically, you lost.)

Details on the Meta-Prize Contest will be posted on the weekend.

Field Report from Audrey

Earlier today, the lovely Audrey sent this report from Venice to update us on the progress she and the Independent Observer are making on their Italian research mission.

8:30 a.m. The IO woke with a start and saw it was too early to get up. He channel-surfed through CNN, Sky News, BBC World Service, ten Italian stations, one French station, and one German station. 'Street Legal' was on in Italian. Another Canadian drama was on the French channel, with subtitles en francais.

9:30 a.m. Breakfast in the elaborately frescoed dining room with Audrey. The IO tried to ignore the insistent American tourist who kept badgering the Japanese waitress: 'Two cappuccinos... two cappuccinos... two cappuccinos... two cappuccinos...' The IO ate a croissant with jam, two slices of ham, two pieces of Swiss cheese, a bowl of tinned peaches and fruiti di bosco yogurt. He yearned for fresh fruit. Although he was longing for a coffee, he delayed ordering his caffè Americano because of the irritating American tourist.

A gondolier sailed past the window singing O sole mio and the IO turned to the window and focussed his camera on the party of tourists in the boat. One of the tourists, a cute brunette, focussed her camera on him.

10:30 a.m. Leaving the hotel for a day of sightseeing, the IO says hello ('ciao!') to the comely receptionist, and wondered yet again if she was really Italian (she seemed to speak perfect Italian), or if she was Austrian, German or Swiss. Or Swiss-German? She was fair with freckles... He thought about asking her where she was from but Audrey's beckoning kept him on his path to the front door.

11:30 a.m. - 8:30 p.m. The IO was kept busy with tourist activities: the John Singer Sargent exhibition of Venetian paintings (marvellous!), shopping with Audrey (Her frequent plea: 'Sorry, sorry , sorry, but could we just look in this shoe store...'), a tour of the Doge's Palace, a walk along the canals, making mini-movies of pigeons in Piazza San Marco with Audrey.

8:30 p.m. Audrey asks 'Is that your friend?' The IO turns to see. A glamorous blonde floats across the Piazza San Marco in a long white skirt with a tight, light-pink blouse. It is the friend the IO is to meet. She embraces the IO and extends her hand to Audrey. All the men nearby are envious. The IO decides that it will be an interesting evening...

11:30 p.m. All have finished dinner. They are walking along the street, near the Rialto Bridge. The glamorous blonde is looking for a café that she remembers from the week before, when she was out with her classmates. Audrey is looking dejected - she is footsore and tired of drinking. She does not love wine as the others do. Plus, she is the third wheel! The IO does not notice that the glamorous blonde wants to be out and about, to have fun, to be seen, to be admired. His repeated requests to stop at quiet bars or to sit at quaint piers are rejected. However, when it is time to go home, he gallantly escorts the glamorous blonde to her boat, and then across the canal to the island where she has an apartment. He kisses her goodbye, on the cheeks. He returns to the hotel by vaporetto.

Venice has blindsided this reporter with her beauty.