Pop Phreak: "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K" or Time Machines, Part 1

The year was 1989 and in suburban movieplexes everywhere Bill S. Preston, Esquire (Alex Winter) and Ted “Theodore” Logan (Keanu Reeves in a role he would play forever) were loveable under achievers from San Dimas in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.  Now, I have no evidence to support how successful this movie was other than the fact that I can probably quote about couple dozen lines from the film and believe that most people in the 30ish to 40ish realm can too (at least the ones I know).

We are told early in the film that the music of Bill and Ted’s band, the Wyld Stallyns, will be the basis of a future utopian society.  But it seems that this idyllic future is at risk and an ambassador from the future, Rufus (George Carlin) must travel back in time to help them complete a history class report lest they both get kicked out of school and the Wyld Stallyns be dissolved along with this amazing future where Clarence Clemons (Seriously! He’s in this movie!) is part of this shadowy cool board of important future people that make the big decisions.

The time machine: A phone booth.  Excellent! *air guitar*

Loonie Call?

According to a teeny blurb in this week's issue of The Grid, Bell Canada is looking for permission to start charging a dollar for a pay phone call, up 100% from the current cost of 50 cents.  "Bell says the money will pay for upgrades to the GTA's 22,000 payphones."

Does this mean they want to save them?  Likely the opposite.  The increased cost may drive usage down giving Bell more reason to get rid of them.

Aspirations by Liz Worth

King St W & Portland; photo credit: Liis Toliao

4.

Persona amplified at the corner of King and Portland,
still early enough to pretend
the streets were only ours: holy our.
You stretched and caught the sun in
blond hairs low on your belly.
Panting, we let sentiment atrophy,
aspired to lightning. Detour #1

We ran into R. wearing anorexia and Victorian boots. She’d been to the forest electric, had her pace timed by a rush of tongues.

We knew hers was a deceptive cadence, but we followed anyway through lost time and narcotic fascination.

This is from a poem by Liz Worth situated near a booth at King and Portland. It offers both a familiar and distancing view of a neighbourhood that's hosting a pack of suburban girls on a night out on the town.