||[May. 31st, 2008|07:31 pm]
The Winter Garden Theatre in Toronto is the very last place I'd ever want to watch The Day of the Triffids.|
For movie palace fans, the photo of the Winter Garden comes from this web article about architect Mandel Sprachman (who designed the renovation of the theatre), provided by the City of Toronto.
The bluejays might stop harrassing the stray cats now. This afternoon I saw one of the jays land in the lilac bush near my back porch. It appeared to be pecking at something, so when it flew away I took a closer look at the bush and saw a fledgling perched among the leaves and dessicated blossoms. My guess is that this was the last of the fledglings of that particular pair, or the only survivor. Otherwise the parent probably wouldn't have been devoting so much time to it. The parent had been feeding it, and then went to the nearby oak tree and called, coaxing the fledgling to fly. I don't know how long it had been since the fledgling had gotten into the lilac bush, or why it was so reluctant to leave, but it was still there the next time I went out, an hour later.
The parent was still hanging around, and I thought the fledgling might have been injured or sick. It just sat there, mostly silent, chirping only when the parent brought bits of food. An hour later I was out again and both birds were gone. I'm guessing the fledgling finally flew, as I didn't see any feathery evidence that it had ended up on the ground and been caught by a predator. Either way, the jays will no longer have a nest to protect, unless they have another liter (or whatever a bunch of baby birds is called), which they sometimes do in years with mild springs. The cats will probably be happy if the birds are gone.
So it turns out that fandom trumps lulz at LiveJournal. Big surprise. The winner of the election for token user representative on the toothless advisory board is legomymalfoy, who whipped (pun optional) jameth by a margin of almost two to one. jameth is of course outraged (not!) and, as fete would have it, legomymalfoy, well, sort of is, really, or well on the way. I give her six months before she retreats into a fantasy of Harry/Ron/Draco.
But enough of that. Here's a Saturday YouTube discovery: From Ethel Waters, it's a 1929 recording of Am I Blue? That's Tommy Dorsey on trombone.