Found

I recall many years ago reading an interview with John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten of The Sex Pistols) in a Smash Hits magazine. He mentioned that one of his early jobs was working in the sewers. The interviewer asked what he did there. "Were you killing rats?" he asked.

"No", Lydon answered, "I was studying humanity".

Ok, so this piece isn't quite so harsh as that, but along similar lines. It concerns a gem I discovered on another one of my date nights at the Indigo magazine room.

"Found Magazine" is a collection of just that: stuff people have found. Papers littering the sidewalk, things pulled from garbage cans or recycle bins, forgotten stuff that's left behind on a bus seat or a park bench. They could be letters, resumes, flyers, birthday cards, shopping lists, notebooks or cassette tapes. The only criteria seems to be that (a) it was discovered somewhere and that (b) the original author/owner is not known to the person who found it. The magazine publishes photocopies of the found items, usually including a brief note as to where the item was found, or an a bit of conjecture about the meaning of the item.

This is modern day archaeology, askewed.

"Found" is a profound look at the mundane. It takes the ephemera of everyday life out of context, and through the absence of context assigns new meaning. Each piece becomes its own little mystery and your mind begins to fill-in the blanks with the "who, what, where, when and why". Sometimes the result is hilarious. Sometimes it's terrifying. Sometimes it's downright poetic. Truthfully, there is more meaningful observation in these pages than I've seen in a few literary journals. The best way to describe "Found" is "incongruous". In what seems like garbage one can find strange insight into the human condition.

If you're the voyeuristic type (and really, who isn't?) some of the stuff reprinted in the magazine is fascinating. For example, check out this note left on a windshield in a weird case of mistaken identity. From out of this one simple bit of poison pen, a human drama unfolds...

As they say, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", but notice the "page me later"...? She still loves him. This girl is seriously conflicted.

Issue #1 includes a poignant look at things found from the World Trade Centre after 9/11, which is surprisingly respectful, not stooping to morbid curiosity. There's also an interview with indie comic artist / author Lynda Barry, who is a self-proclaimed "scrounger" of found things. Another point of interest in this issue is "Cheeseburger in Paradise": a travel journal logging a particularly bland vacation in Hawaii. It becomes interesting when you begin to see the author partially as the typical "ugly American" stereotype, but also as just simple person with a mundane yet somehow satisfying life, and small aspirations.

If you're the type of person who likes to look for meaning in life's small moments, you'll love "Found". But it's not all deep: some of it is just baffling, goofy shit. I'm dying to listen to "Booty Time by the Ypsilanti All-Starz", a found cassette of 14 booty-rap anthems. And I'm anxiously awaiting the upcoming special issue of "Found" that promises to reprint the 40 page letter (!) by the paranoid license-plate woman.

http://www.foundmagazine.com/

Confessions of an Exhibitionist

When I was a child one of the biggest annual events in my life was the Exhibition. It didn't matter that it signalled the end of summer and the start of the school year -- the promise of over priced rides, un-winable games and cotton candy more than made up for it. To my child's mind, there was really nothing more exciting than a fair or Exhibition. And I went to a lot of them, usually with my grandfather, my father and my cousin. I was never really into the scary rides. My favourite memory was a ride that was like a merry-go-round, only instead of horses it was cars and motorcycles. I remember in particular a car with dark green sparkly paint that I loved. I liked to play games too. I don't recall ever winning anything big, but my cousin often did. One year he won a stuffed doll that was a silver robot and it made me crazy jealous.

Later, as a teen, the Exhibition became part of my warped romantic fantasy life. To go to the Exhibition with friends after dark seemed incredibly cool. I suppose it was the crowds and the neon lights and the noise, but for a few hours you could pretend you were somewhere other than the little jerkwater town you were living in. Maybe it was just my first exposure to the seedy underbelly of small town life that seemed dangerously appealing to me. There always seemed to be lots of gruff & unfamiliar faces trudging around in the dark, hordes of teenagers wound-up and hormonal, often itching for a fight, and of course the always suspicious looking "carnies". One year I remember a common prize given out at the games were small mirrors with different heavy metal bands stamped on them. Another year a prize was feathered roach clips. As a grew older, I became more cognizant of how skeezy and over-priced the Exhibition actually was and I stopped going. To this day, I still have vivid memories of the last time I went to the Exhibition as a teen. In my mind's eye, this song is an excellent snapshot of how I kind of remember it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHYt-GKzfF0

Perhaps it's just a sign of changing times, but it seems the Exhibition just isn't as big of a deal as it used to be. Now the fairgrounds are much smaller, it stays in town for only a couple of days and it seems very few people bother to go (myself included). Apparently they don't even charge an admission fee anymore, which indicates a drop in attendance. Maybe the reason is because our society isn't a "rural" as it used to be; the agricultural and livestock exhibits aren't as meaningful to us city folk. Would winning a "blue ribbon" impress anyone you know? And our sense of community just isn't the same as it used to be: no one in the city goes to the Exhibition to socialize with their neighbours. Perhaps another factor is that kids today have a lot more options for entertainment and recreation than when I was a child. Satellite tv, the internet, video games offer distraction that just wasn't available in the past. And I suppose if they're really feeling nostalgic for the midway, most families can take a vacation anytime of the year and visit a theme park for rides and games. Even the junk food that you used to only be able to get at the Exhibition -- cotton candy, pink popcorn, pogos, etc -- can be found year-round in other places. So, it seems that all the things that made the Exhibition special are becoming obsolete.

One of these days, just for old time's sake, I think I'll enter something in an exhibit, just to see if I can win a "blue ribbon".