X-mas in the 'ga

Christmas in the 'ga with my parents means entertaining, and entertaining means the nutbar is open:

Tis the season when the fashion renegades thumb their noses at the style police. So, my uncle was rockin' some natty white monostrap Rockports:



My dad has fashion ideas of his own. So when I get home this is what's waiting for me:



Four ! Four-freakin-pairs of Dockers/Khakis/chinos! in every beige possible! There has to be some sort of Indian action figure that parents can get and dress up just they way they like. Sadly, when I google for indian action figure, this is the best I get :



This is all part of the sinister plot to mold me into some sort of Indian-Canadian Ned Flanders. Which is also why we have a piano. No one in the house plays a piano, but someone is hoping that it's mere presence will elevate our social whatever. But playing the piano takes actual work and dedication, which is lot harder to pull off than buying a piano and plunking it in your living room, so now it serves as an elaborate display fixture for an intimidating assortment of kitsch and memorabilia. The seat even makes for a fabulous plant stand.



Let's take a closer look, shall we ?



This is easily the best looking trophy I ever won. In my first and only x-country ski race the ground was frozen after a slushly day and the resulting lumpy ice was unskiable, so I just took off my skis and ran with them most of the way. I just wanted to get home, I got the trophy weeks later. Here's to thinkin' outside the box!

This an ASCII art picture of me and my grandmother, taken and produced at the CN Tower ca.1980, we were all blown away by the high-techness of it all at the time.



This is a somewhat crude model of a house made by my brother :



It's pretty good considering who made it.

Having your old black and white photos photoshopped into colour is a booming cottage industry in India. This is a colorized picture of my grandparents printed on a plaque.



Even the cheesy trompe d'oeil frame has been photoshopped in. This one's actually not bad, there's waay worse examples, even at our house.

Above the piano hangs a picture of Subhash Chandra Bose, an Indian revolutionary with a dubious legacy:



This very creepy harlequin doll



has been stalking me. I first saw it at a bike race, where it was totally out of place, and then at my place downtown (how?) and now it's it's here (!?!) ! I have no idea how it got in this picture.

Holidays in the 'ga are always trying, but there is a new curse in town :



Indian TV! This stuff is all over the place. Christmas day, when I wasn't watching pseudosports on TSN, I was watching Bollywood flicks with my cousin, blissfully unaware of the damage it was causing my brain.

Today while assbiking I spotted this :



in front of the physics building -- I took it to be a sign. So there was no resisting when I came across a Bengali music shop (what the .. ?!) My brain is obviously now mush



...and I had to pick up some Bollywood DVDs (who can say no when they're $2 ea.?). Looking back I will realize that this marks the beginning of one long downward spiral.

So, the trip to my parent's at least gave me a chance to pick up the parts I needed for the hybrid. I replaced the trash heap bars with a nice one-piece bar stem combo, which was saved from obsolesence (it's a 1" quill), and I added a racier saddle. This makes it approximately 50% faster. Now it's more in line with what I pictured:

.

And there you have it.