Shirin Delsooz

My Life Adventures and Thoughts

Life’s little Miracles – Havij’s 1st bday

Persian new years is coming up, but to me the date signifies the 1st birthday of little Havij.

He was something we bought as part of customary Persian new years decoration. Like all the other goldfishes we bought every year he was supposed to die in a few weeks.

This year my mom thought it would be nice to add decorative rocks into the bowl. It turned out to be Havij’s saviour. Every time Havij detected movement, he would seek refuge under the rocks. For this reason he is still alive today. Happy Birthday Havij.

A conversation with a stranger

Today I was walking along the Annex, from a block away all I could hear was a wayyyy OUT OF TUNE guitar. OH my. I had to step in.

“Excuse me, can I tune your guitar?”

“Sure!” exclaimed the poofy blonde haired relic from the 60’s.

As I was tuning it up she felt compelled to tell her life story.

“I used to play a lot of shows back in the day and my boyfriend would tune up the guitar. I just got this guitar not too long ago. My son bought it for me,”

“Oh that was nice of him.” (maybe it might make the story more vivid if I mention it was a pretty cheap guitar, which would explain why it would keep falling out of tune.)

She continued, “yea and he bought it for me and said, ‘Mom, now you can go busking’ and here I am,”

“That’s awfully nice,”

And so she began strumming away at the guitar again. I peeked into her case and saw a toonie and a few quarters.

I thought nothing of it and went into Sobey’s. When I came out she was gone. I then saw her walking around with her boyfriend. No guitar playing. It was tuned for nothing. Or maybe she was taking a break.

Something that made me laugh

I went to McGradie’s, a bar way up in Scarborough, for an Open Mic my friend Jeff was hosting. It was a bit dismal, but one t-shirt totally lit up the room (at least for me). I had to take a picture of it. So HERE it is!

“Stupid Raisins, Stay out of my Cookies!” It says. So true. Aren’t you sick of cookies that are trying to be healthy? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of of desert, candy, or any other recreational food? Nothing tastes good when its healthy, especially when there’s raisins in it!

Singing in the Subway

To make a banal commute interesting, I sing to myself. The unwritten rules of public etiquette preaches this to be unacceptable, but after giving this much thought I decided to go with my instinct. My mp3 player turns on and I can’t resist the urge to chirp away, and why can’t I?

If I enjoy singing I should be able to sing, its not a privilege exclusively for loonie people. If the only consequence is a crowd of strangers ignoring and judging me like they would anyway, so be it. I live for me, not for people I will never see again.

People bring many disturbances to the public realm as it already is, including pesky sales pitches, obnoxiously loud cellphone chatting, cellphone rings, smells, and so on. To put up with all that and remain quiet is a TALL order, I need to go into my zone and do what I got to do, or else I’ll really go crazy. Besides, no one has complained about the singing so far.

And I also meet interesting people along the way. A few weeks ago I met a guy who wanted to know what song I was singing while I was waiting 10 minutes at the subway platform… (and I must say by the way the acoustics at the subway are amazing, I just love the echo). The song was “Sweet Surrender” by Sarah McLachlan (don’t laugh). So the guy then tells me, “Oh man, I had the most WEIRDEST weekend of MY LIFE!”. Indeed it was a very strange story he needed to get off his chest involving an after hours club, the mafia, an invitation to a super luxurious condo, and a thick envolope full of Euros, Pounds, and American and Canadian dollar bills. I can only imagine why he decided to open up his life to me. Perhaps maybe my singing was an icebreaker, adding personality from a public crowd that often feels anonymous and apathetic.

Today another guy at the subway comes up to me and asks me what song I’m singing. (I must confess, it was “Sweet Surrender” again). This guy politely introduces himself to me… and get this… he is blond and PERSIAN! I never met a blond Persian person, I heard of them, but never seen them! Very interesting. I told him about my show at the Bread and Circus next week and he said he would come. What an interesting way to promote music!

Even the subway conductor digs my style! The dude asked me to come sit at the seat beside his operational booth and begged me to just sit through an entire subway lap when I got to my stop. I couldn’t unfortunately! I was in such a hurry I forgot to tell him about my show and website. Oh well.

So you see folks, the world of music brings colour to our bland existence, and nothing leads me to believe otherwise!

Fighting the war to perserve the independant book industry. Catch the thieves!

Wanted: Thieves at Book City

I was at Book City the other day (my favourite bohemian book store franchise) to purchase the latest issue of Spacing magazine (my favourite bohemian independent magazine). It’s the small contribution I make to support this under appreciated industry that is constantly threatened by corporations and mainstream culture. At the counter, I realized another enemy is at hand… thieves.

The poster reveals two guys from surveillance footage, and reads, “We are Thieves! Do NOT let us in!”. To think its written as if they actually said it is absolutely hilarious, especially if you imagine it being played out. Like… who says that? I laughed for about 20 min, and I still laugh each time I think about it- even now as I write this. I suppose the clerks are as creative as the work they store!

I had to take a picture, and I’m glad I did so my readers can laugh and register the faces of the guys who are robbing us of our books and culture!