A Note to Rio Tango

From the person who pays for your hay.

I don't want to pry, but I couldn't help but notice that you tried to buck me off yesterday. In fact, you tried to buck me off for at least five rather intense minutes. At risk of sounding as though I'm overreacting: what the hell?

I've been good to you, haven't I? Since taking over your care, I've sent you to stay in very nice digs. You have your own paddock and you're allowed into the big field every day. You have all the latest fly gear, plus a new rain sheet, new winter blanket, and two new coolers. I used up MY birthday money from James to get you a fancy leather halter with your name engraved on the side. I've even hired someone to brush and pet you when I'm away. And I've been quite reasonable about the amount of work I expect you to do. One or two lessons a week, plus a few practice sessions in the ring followed by light trail riding. There are horses who would KILL for a schedule like yours. Talk to some of your colleagues in the circus or the rodeo, or the race track, for god's sake.

I was understanding when you got a cold shortly after arriving here and couldn't work for two weeks. I said nothing when your hives exploded, resulting in a $200 vet bill and a couple of unsightly blemishes on your rear end. I was sympathetic when you had a spaz in your paddock and sliced up your fetlock. (Even when you stepped on my foot that time I only screamed a little and it was more of a general cry of agony as opposed to a "get off my foot you bloody horse" sort of deal.)

But this bucking thing, this I cannot disregard. Maybe you need to give some thought to what you'd like out of this relationship and I'll do the same. It's time you take some responsibility for your actions. You're eight. You're not a colt anymore. If you'd like to start paying your own way, that can be arranged. No more Bank of Susan, Buster. It's time for an attitude adjustment.

Now you stay in your paddock and think about this. I'll be by later with an apple and we can talk about it some more. And if you need a bit of time off to get your head together, I'm sure we can work something out. Oh yeah, and let me know if you want me to pick up some of those mints you like...

One of those vague updates...

Okay, for those of you looking for updates on the TV show, here's the latest news.

There is a casting call taking place now in Vancouver. The next one starts on Tuesday in Toronto. Then there will be a call in Halifax. I can't confirm yet whether they will be doing a call in the northern interior, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. (The fingers that aren't busy typing away on the new book).

As for the title of the show, it's been decided on. The title will be Alice, I think. I think.

I hope to have final info. about the casting process soon and I'll put it up here as soon as I can.

Thanks to everyone who came out to a reading or a signing and suffered through my personal tales of defeat and humiliation, punctuated by intermittent bouts of tiny triumph. You are to be congratulated on your strong stomachs.

In other news, I'm addicted to The Shield, the first three seasons of which just came out on DVD. Michael Chiklis's cry that he's "handling it" reminds me of myself making yorkshire puddings in times of peak stress (i.e. so it's ready to be served when the roast is carved.) We both know we have no control over the situation whatsoever. A roast beef dinner and life as a cop in Farmington are exercises in chaos and bad language. Only some of us have hair we have to tie back and some of us are totally bald. I'm just saying...

I hope to have the facts about the casting situation for you soon. In the meantime, the actors among you should get in touch with your inner Alice by going out and having lots of embarrassing moments.

Smithers! Houston! And beyond!

Thanks to Mr. Monkman at Smithers Senior Secondary, whose wife, awesomely enough, is a former Miss Smithers, for hosting me at my alma mater/scene of many an academic disgrace. Thanks to everyone who came to the readings in Smithers and Houston. I had a great time. Apologies to the reporter from the Interior News whom I accidentally stood up. While we were supposed to be having an interview, my brother Scott and I were driving around looking for someplace to nap until dinner time. Oops. That's how you know you're starting to lose it on tour. We ended up parked in a gravel pit reading our books for two hours. Once a small town gravel pit aficionado, always a... Most intriguing were all the thrashed Camaros and old pick up trucks that pulled in, saw us, and peeled out at top speed. I'm guessing they weren't going to the gravel pit to read their novels. No sir.

If you get a chance check out a new TV show on Friday night. It's a half hour comedy called Robson Arms set in Vancouver's West End. It's airing on CTV at 10:00 on the 17th. I've heard it's fantastic and not to be missed...

Okay, I'm probably going to be offline until Sunday because my laptop wireless connection is still a complete mystery to me. If you live in Terrace, Rupert or Kitimat, I hope to see you this weekend!

S.

Great Moments in Tennis

Yesterday I managed to hit no less than three vehicles parked near the tennis courts with stray, space-bound tennis balls. This is probably some kind of record. My spastic backhand may not be the last word in accuracy, but there's no denying its power. I should probably refresh my self-defence skills in case an owner flies into a rage over the barely noticeable dents in their automobile. Good thing I'll have a racket handy!

Also, thanks to the librarians and excellent students from Hazelton. You all asked great questions and were a terrific audience who had to walk a long distance in the rain to get to the reading. That kind of dedication touches my heart. So much so that I promise never to play tennis near your cars.

Tomorrow: Smithers Senior Secondary and Smithers Public Library!

Contest!

Don't forget to enter the Fashion 18 contest to win an IPod shuffle programmed by Alice! (Okay, programmed by me, as directed by Alice.) Sweet tunes: not to be missed.

http://www.fashion18secure.com/harpercollins-summer05/

Oh, and since we're on the topic of contests, last night I played tennis for the first time since Grade 9. Move over current women's tennis champ, here I come! (Is the current tennis champ that girl People Magazine always shows frenching with her boyfriend? I figure that in another few days I should probably be able to beat her, since she can't have much time to practise, what with her rigorous making out schedule and all.)

I admit that it's possible that my brothers were taking it easy on me. But I do detect glimmers of hidden tennis talent in myself. Sure, most of my athletic glimmers turn out to be light bouncing off my unused runners, but I remain convinced that some are real.

Today: Hazelton Library!

Do you live...

in Hazelton, Smithers, Terrace, Houston, Kitimat or Prince Rupert? If so, you should come to my readings! (See sidebar for details).

Also, a note to Kors, Klum and Co. You eliminated Austin before Wendy? Is that some kind of sick joke? Shame! Note to Austin: I get you. And when my ship comes in, you'll be the one I call.