First of all, some happy news: Punjab Palace has opened up downtown, and I was there for opening night. Now, it's true that the curry was as mild as the plains of wheat surrounding this city, and that the deep fryer wasn't quite up to temperature when they dropped in the samosas. Still, I maintain that the chef knows what he's doing -- he's just dialing it down for the buffet audience. After all, there are four different types of naan on the menu. That's not the work of an amateur. Also, there was a flat-panel television mounted high on the rear wall, and late into the evening, it finally locked onto its distant satellite signal to provide a bit of ambience.
Cilantro and Bollywood have come to Medicine Hat at last. Life is good.
Life's been good in other areas, too; for the first time in five years, I've found a book which compelled me to finish it in a single sitting. The lucky title is Happiness(tm), by Will Ferguson. The concept is of the sweetest satire: A self-help book is published which actually works, and the entire economy collapses once people start to feel good about themselves. It's the most inspirationally cynical thing I've read all year.
More than that, Will Ferguson has the writing style I've apparently been trying to copy. I'll know for sure, once I read through his first book, Why I Hate Canadians... on second thought, the simple fact that he called his first book "Why I Hate Canadians" is probably proof enough that he's my new role model.
Speaking of Canadiana, I recently purchased what is perhaps the most Canadian music CD ever recorded: Rheostatics' "Music Inspired by the Group of Seven"... and now, if you'll excuse me, I have a car stereo and a few hundred kilometers of highway with which to get better acquainted with this bizarre creation.