And the heart test says...

So, I was waiting in the little room that the receptionist took me to, settling into an issue of "Hello! Canada" with Angelina Jolie on the cover, when there was a knock on the door. It was very polite of the doctor to knock first. I'm not sure what he thought I might have been doing in there, but I can't really blame him for thinking the worst. Anyway, he walked in and right away, before even sitting down, said: "I have good news!" and told me that my tests were good. "No abnormalities whatsoever!" He kept looking at the file and couldn't even think of anything to add. I asked what it was that had showed up in the first place and he said the EKG test was just off. Then he warned: "You have to take care of yourself." What? How? "You need to hang out with better people." Oh, right. The brownies. Yah, putting drugs in them without telling me was pretty immature. "Immature? It was almost criminal!" But at least I have a new lease on life. :-)

P.S. Oh, and afterward, I treated myself to a Booster Juice from the hospital foodcourt, as a celebration. That's not really relevant to the story. But you know what? I love Booster Juice. It's always a special treat that makes me happy. So there.

My heart test... Testing my poor heart... :(

As you’ll recall from The Pot Brownie Incident ©2007, the emergency room doctor didn’t like what was going on with my heart. So she made me an appointment with a cardiologist. I met with him, an elderly Polish doctor, a few days later and he listened to my heart through a stethoscope. And after his analysis, he said that there was absolutely, positively... something weird. This was his professional, medical diagnosis. "Weird." (I could have told him I was weird and saved us both the trouble of the visit.) Unfortunately, he didn’t know anything more than that. So maybe it’s something really awful and I have a short time to live. I prefer to think that maybe I have some kind of SuperHeart. Like, I’m the next step in human evolution and my SuperHeart will allow me to run great distances and also I’ll never die. Either way, Dr. Petrovich was not impressed with the people who filled me with illegal drugs.

So a couple of weeks later (June 13, 2007, for those historians who are taking note of this for future generations) I was back at the hospital at 8:45am for an Echo-Cardiogram. I was about 15 minutes late because, hey, that’s pretty early in the morning. And I never expect doctor appointments to start on time. But the woman passive-aggressively asked: “Do you know what time your appointment was for?” Receptionists never come out and just say: “You’re late. You’re a prick.” They always find some kind of passive-aggressive way of pointing it out. Anyway, I slipped into a sexy frontless gown, lay on my side and a medical technician named Dimitri put his arm over my body and rubbed a gel-coated metal probe over my heart for about 20 minutes. For most women and 10% of guys, this would have been a lot of fun. Perhaps even something to pay good money for. But for me, the only fun was getting to hear my heart beat. Not the regular “ba bump, ba bump” you hear when you put your ear to someone’s chest. (Not that I would ever do such a thing.) No, this is the kind of wet heartbeat where you can hear all the liquids sloshing around inside. Like when they listen to fetuses. It’s neat. I could have sworn I heard my heart say: “No more pot brownies! Slosh, slosh. And no more cheeseburgers while you’re at it! Slosh, slosh. And hey, it’s called ‘exercise.’ Try it sometime!” But that might have been just my imagination. At the end of it, Dimitri said he didn’t see anything wrong with my heart. Except that I obviously “love too much.” Haha! No, he didn’t say that. But I know he was thinking it. I could see it in his eyes.

Then I went for a cardiac stress test. A nice lady injected me with radiation. And then I had to lie on a slab while a big metal plate slowly moved around me for twenty minutes. This would have been a good time for a nap, except I had to have my arms raised above my head the whole time, which isn’t normally how I sleep. (FYI, I normally sleep on my side, curled up like a cute little ball, for anyone who is building a fan site about me and wants the inside scoop.)

Then I got two hours off. So I sat in the food court of the hospital, reading Metro and eating a sub. I wasn’t supposed to have any caffeine or any heavy foods. When I got back to the Cardio Ward, there was a new, Russian nurse and as we were walking to the injection room she said: “I hope you had a nice lunch... With no coffee or cola...” and I said: “Nope. Just a couple of cappuccinos.” She stopped in her tracks and almost had a heart attack herself. I quickly told her that I was joking. She recovered and said that I had retorted so quickly that she didn’t think I could have been joking. I started to explain about my extensive improv training but I think she had stopped listening to me altogether.

Anyway, she had to inject me again. She asked if I had a problem with needles. I said it’s not the most fun I can think of, but I’m ok. But she found it hard to find a place to inject me. Because I already had bruising from the two blood tests on the night of The Pot Brownie Incident ©2007, plus bruising from the morning’s injection, it was hard to find a vein. So she really had to jam it in there. And this time, she was inserting an IV thing that would stay in my arm. It really hurt. I got a bit dizzy and broke into a cold sweat. I think her and the other nurse were rolling their eyes and thinking I was a big baby and that I had lied to them about being able to tolerate needles. But it was my body reacting to the pain, not my brain. If my brain had had any say in it, I would have been off at the ScotiaBank Theatre (formerly The Paramount) watching the smash-hit blockbuster of the summer, Spider-Man 3, in full Imax glory. But my brain had no say in it. So I was dizzy and sweating. She told me to lie down, and she told another woman to get me a juice box. I should break into cold sweats more often, ‘cause I love juice boxes.

When I was ok to sit up again, the nurse had to shave parts of my chest so she could hook up electrodes to me. This was kind of kinky. In a disgusting sort of way. Chest hair is weird, actually. It's a lighter, fluffier texture than other hair. So it falls to the ground lightly. Gently. Like little angles descending from heaven. Little fuzzy, disgusting angels. But I digress. Back to the story, I got on the treadmill. At this point I remembered that I had a digital camera in my man-purse. I mean, in my manly sport bag. Because, hey, what better time to want a picture taken of oneself than when one is partly-shaven, wearing an open gown, hooked up to electrodes, injected with a radioactive IV and walking on a treadmill? What a great Facebook profile picture that would make, I thought. So many people put up pictures where they look “good.” What a cliché. So I asked the nurse (the Russian one had left, this was the juice box one I think) to take a picture of me. She said we should start the treadmill so that I’m really walking on it, otherwise people won’t believe it was real. Thanks, Nurse Spielberg. She took a picture, looked at on the camera screen, and then turned off the lights. I figured this was a medical thing, so that they could see my radiation or something. But the she took another picture, and then turned the lights back on. I realized that she had probably turned the lights off because she didn’t like the lights reflecting off my shiny head in the picture. Sigh…

So the treadmill was going along slowly and she asked how I’m doing and I said I was fine. I was pretty impressed with myself, actually. I was pretty sure I was beating all the 90 year-olds who have to do this treadmill test. She started cranking up the treadmill and then putting it on an angle and then I was running pretty fast on a very steep incline and ok, now I was starting to sweat and breathe heavy. She kept asking if I thought I could do another minute on it. I didn’t know why she was asking that. They never explain things. It was only later, when I was reading about this kind of test on the internet, that I learned that they need to have you run for one minute after they inject the radiation into you with the IV. So why didn’t she just say that? Why be cryptic? Nurses are like girlfriends.

Anyway, they injected more radiation into me… I kept running… I was dripping sweat and breathing hard and then I was done. She said she had had to stop the test because I was breathing so hard. Which made it sound like I sucked at the test. But another woman, the metal plate machine technician as she was walking me to the machine, said that I was really good at running on the treadmill and said that I must do that kind of thing at home. I said that, well, yes, I must admit, that when I do go to the gym I usually run on the treadmill for half an hour or even an hour and that while I don't normally do it on an incline, I do go pretty fast... But I think she had stopped listening to me. My clue was that she was no longer in the room. So I lay quietly in the machine again with my arms above my head. Regaling myself and my fellow patients down the hall with my armpit odour.

After the machine thing, they asked if I would be traveling soon, because the radiation would set off alarms in an airport. And they told me that I shouldn’t go near any pregnant women. I asked if the radiation would have any bad side effects. Like, say, give me cancer. Spielberg scoffed and said that I’m exposed to radiation every time I go outside in the sun. Hmmm… True. But as my friend Adrienne later pointed out, I’m allowed to go near pregnant women after I’ve been out in the sun.

When I got home I looked in the mirror at my chest and realized that I looked like a fuzzy block of Swiss cheese. So I shaved the rest of my chest. Which I’ve heard can enhance one’s muscular appearance. Except, I learned, when one is a flabby slob. In which case, one looks like a plucked frozen turkey.

So, anyway, we’ll see what happens. I’m kind of hoping that the radiation unleashed some superpowers in me, and that the next time I’m almost hit by a bus I’ll instinctively leap into the air and stick to the wall of a building. But so far, no sign of any powers. It’s true, I’m awesome in bed. But I was already awesome before. Haha! Just kidding. I’ve never been with a woman. I just hope I live long enough to maybe one day know what that’s like. I get the results on Tuesday.

I'm in the New York Times!

And surprisingly it's not because I've been arrested for a spectacularly dramatic/disturbing crime. No, it's just little ol' me spreading the word about going green. Check out the article here. Thanks go out to the excellent author - Martha C. White - for writing an entertaining and informative on a very important subject: environmentally-friendly hotels. Let's hope America pays attention!

Oh, and it's not just America who will be told what's what. This article is also running here in The Sydney Morning Herald in Australia and here in the International Herald Tribune and here in Spanish in some Sao Paulo newspaper. Thanks to that one, I'm going to have my business card title changed to "Josh Rachlis, redator de publicidade baseado em Toronto."

I'm huge in France. Me and Jerry Lewis.

Funny story: This morning at work my colleague Jason starts off a group meeting by telling us about his recent trip to France. He says he was in the middle of nowhere in France. Somewhere in the countryside. In a farmhouse. His little boy was acting up and Jason wanted to give the kid something to do. So Jason turned on the TV, which was hooked up to satellite. He found some French channel, and as he turned away from the TV, the first thing he heard was MY voice. He couldn't believe it. But he was positive he recognized my "bad Scottish accent," as he put it. So when his wife was going out with the child a few minutes later, Jason said he had to stay behind to see the credits. And sure enough, there was my name in the credits of Time Warp Trio, an educational cartoon being broadcast in France. I guess some French Discovery Channel Station of some sort picked up the show. I did the voice a couple of years ago, at least. Was playing some kind of Scottish explorer in the 1800's, I think. I've never even seen the show myself. I only had maybe five lines. I was only a tiny part of the half-hour show. But somehow... Across the ocean... In a deserted farmhouse in France... My colleague turned on the TV at the exact moment that those few lines were coming through the TV. I'm not sure what the point of my story is. And I didn't tell it in a very funny way. So maybe I was misleading by setting it up with "Funny Story." I'm sure you were hoping it involved me accidentally ingesting some kind of narcotic. So I'm sorry to disappoint. But man, it's just kind of neat.

Check out my letters about hybrid cabs in the Toronto Star and Metro, then write to Howard Moscoe and tell him you want them in Toronto!

Here they are:

http://www.thestar.com/article/217486

http://www.metronews.ca/letter.aspx?id=50368

Why'd I write them? Because this week I was delighted to see that NYC is converting all its taxis to hybrids. The benefits to the air New Yorkers breathe will be huge. And what was the immediate response from Councillor Howard Moscoe, who's in charge of licensing cabs in Toronto? Like a whiny baby, he says things like "stop picking on cabs" and "everyone else should have to drive a hybrid then." What? He's not even making any sense. Apparently, with the federal and provincial tax credits and rebates, a hybrid costs 30 grand now. And taxis would save 15 grand in gas a year. So it pays for itself in only two years. Plus, the city charges something like 300 grand for a taxi license. So all they'd have to do is offer a subsidy to taxis and whammo, they're all enviro-friendly. Is Howard being paid by the mob or something? Nothing else makes sense. Drop him a line and tell him you want Toronto to follow New York's lead. Now.

Howard Moscoe. City Hall 100 Queen Street West, Suite B30 Toronto, ON M5H 2N2 Phone: 416-392-4027 Fax: 416-392-4191 councillor_moscoe@toronto.ca

Why I spent 12 hours in the hospital Thursday (Also titled: Oh, you made pot brownies? How about also making a frickin sign that labels them as such?)

Since many of you are wondering what happened to me, here it is. I was at a party where the food was some chips and some brownies. I hadn't had dinner. I thought of eating dinner on the way to the party, but "Don't eat dinner," my friend Adrienne said. "There will be food at the party." So at the party I ate a lot of chips. And then, though I'm normally not a dessert guy, I ate a brownie. There were two trays of brownies. They were labelled "nuts" and "no nuts." I tried the "nuts" one. Because I love nuts. But nuts weren't enough to save this brownie. It tasted like crap. Almost like it had gone bad or something. But I finished it, 'cause I was hungry. And after the brownie I was still hungry. So I figured I'd try the "no nuts" one. I figured that maybe the "nuts" one had been store-bought, and the "no nuts" was homemade. Because they looked a bit different. But the "no nuts" tasted like crap too. And while I was forcing "no nuts" down, someone, said, hey did you know there's marajuana in those? (I assumed they meant in the "nuts" brownies, because otherwise they would have stopped me from eating the one I was eating.) I was like, WHAT? So I stormed over to the woman who made them. Let's call her "The Baker." While eating my "no nuts" brownie, I yelled at The Baker. "There's marajuana in those brownies? Why didn't you tell me? That's ridiculous! What's going to happen to me?" "Oh, calm down," The Baker responded, as I finished the last bite of my 'no nuts' brownie. "Nothing will happen," she added. And then she said, "And besides, if you're worried, why are you still eating them?" "WHAT???," I shrieked, though I'm sure it was hard to hear me over the Bon Jovi karaoke tune that was blasting. "There are drugs in the 'no nuts' ones too??? Why didn't you tell me???" This was ridiculous. These brownies had been carefully labeled "nuts" and "no nuts." But perhaps it would have been more important to label them "These contain large amounts of marajuana" and "These also contain large amounts of marajuana." I thought I should leave and go to a doctor or something but I was told that this was no big deal and that I should stay and party. I was told that the drugs would kick in after about an hour but nothing would really happen. After an hour, I felt a bit warm, but not too bad. So I went home, because I had a big day coming up at work and an audition at the end of the day for an animated show called "Poop Deck." I walked from the party to McDonald's and had 4 cheeseburgers, a small fries, and an orange juice. I got it "to go" but then I couldn't wait so I sat down and ate everything. Then I waited for a streetcar. A strange old homeless man with a broom was sweeping the sidewalk and swept some puddle water onto me. To be fair, he did say: "Here it comes!" just before sweeping it onto me. He was also on the streetcar with his broom, and got off at my stop. I'm still not quite sure if he was real or not. I wanted to poke him to see, but I didn't think that would be a good idea. But anyway, on the streetcar home, WHAM, the drugs hit me and I didn't know where I was. The streetcar had detoured off King onto Queen, which was abnormal. Combined with the drugs, it meant I couldn't get my bearings at all. I realized I was in trouble and made some calls to the people at the party and to a couple of people not at the party. But nobody was answering their phones. The messages I left were of me whispering "I took some drugs" or "The drugs are affecting me." I didn't want to say it too loudly lest I be kicked off the streetcar or arrested. The messages also all ended with: "I need help." or "Please help me." Somehow I stumbled up the street and got into my apartment (It's technically a "condo" but I'm just renting. So I don't like to say: "My condo" because it sounds misleading). I called my friends again. The only one who answered was my neighbour Maria who said she was sleeping and that I should just drink lots of water. So I went into the bathroom and drank lots of water. I left my front door unlocked in case I lost consciousness and help came. I also put on some some pants and a t-shirt, because I didn't want to be found in my underwear. Then I lay down on my bed for a minute thinking maybe I would be able to sleep but I kept snapping up and not knowing where I was, what day it was, what was going on. And my throat was closing up. Finally I called 911 (at least a couple of times, because I kept not knowing whether I'd really called them or not and I was afraid that I'd die while waiting for an ambulance I hadn't actually called). My cell rang and I was going to buzz whoever it was in, but then the call hung up. I thought that maybe I'd lost my last chance for assistance. But I guess somebody let them in, because a couple of ambulance guys finally came. I told them Maria told me to drink lots of water. They said I shouldn't do that. I was like, "Sh*t." They said it would dilute the tests they were going to do on me. I know that drugs make you paranoid, but I still think they were kind of laughing at me. I asked if they were going to take me to the hospital. They said they couldn't decide that for me. I asked how much it would cost. They said OHIP would pay for the care, but the ambulance would be 50 bucks. I figured my life was worth 50 bucks. It probably isn't, but it seemed to me like it was at the time. So I said to take me to the hospital. I probably said it more like: "TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL!!!" So they put me in their stretcher. A couple of cops showed up too, because one of my calls hadn't quite been completed. We all rode down in the elevator together. It was fun. Except for the fact that I was having a complete mental and physical melt-down. And also the ambulance guys were now laughing at me with the cops. My ambulance guys took me to the hospital in what was now MY stretcher. I convulsed in my stretcher for while in the hallway (safely strapped in, like Hannibal Lecter), moaning away and disturbing the other patients. I was told by a nurse, or maybe the ambulance guy, to breathe slower and less loud. A nice lady doctor fast-tracked me into a room because she noticed something weird happening with my heart-rate and saw my situation as pretty dire. I was hooked up to electrodes (which I later learned are hard to pull off from chest hair). They took urine and blood samples. They took some more blood at 8am, because the doctor said she needed an "8 hours after" test. When she asked me if I knew where I was, I said: "Toronto General Hospital." When she asked what day I thought it was, I said: "Thursday, May 17th..." "Good," she replied, making a note. "1883," I continued. "Ha ha, good one," she responded. But I don't think she really thought it was a good one. I thought it was pretty funny, though. (I think I picked that year because earlier this week I watched the old Back to the Future III trailer online, where they go back to the cowboy days. The trailer looks like awful, by the way.) Anyway, they turned off the light above me for a bit so I could "sleep." But it's hard to sleep when you have to pee. And when a PA system beside your head blasts out: "PAGING DOCTOR PETERS, YOU'RE WANTED IN HOSPICE!!!" every 15 seconds. I don't know what hospice is. But I know it's a pretty busy section of the hospital. And I know they're huge fans of Dr. Peters up there. I was finally released around noon. I had to remove my sexy, backless robe and find my way out of the hospital. The door led out to Gerrard. I'm never on Gerrard. Who goes to Gerrard? This, coupled with the lingering effects of the drugs, made for some confusion. I walked around downtown, not sure where the heck I was. Finally I figured out the right direction and made it home. But I have to go back to the cardio clinic in a couple of days because the nice lady doctor saw something on my EKG heart charts that concerned her. There are many ways i could have died last night. I could have walked into traffic... Had a heart attack... Suffocated on my constricting throat. It was the scariest experience in my life. But I'm alive. Still a bit dizzy. But alive. And I'm grateful to have friends and family who are concerned and who care. So thanks for asking.

Oh, and below are a couple of photos for visual reference. The first is the sign that was put beside the brownies AFTER I ate them. For future reference for anyone who throws a party, I think the key with placing warning signs like this is to put them beside the narcotic-laced desserts BEFORE people eat them.

The next photo is the receipt from McDonald's. This has great value and meaning, because it could have been my Final Meal. Which would have been sad. And also not environmentally-friendly. But at least, even in the midst of my complete mental meltdown, I had the presence of mind to keep the receipt. In case I needed to return the fries at some future date or something. (Side Note: Especially attractive is the little bit of caked-on "cheese" from one of the 4 burgers. Not sure how I let that bit get away. I was quite hungry.)

Please buy the 1/2 price CFL's at Cdn Tire this week... and post about it at my myspace!

below is what my ex-gf Jen (www.myspace.com/finnfisher) just posted on the www.myspace.com/joshrachlis blog, in response to my posting about the half-price sale on compact fluorescent bulbs at Canadian Tire that's happening right now from Friday to Saturday Jan 26. so if you know anyone who goes to get them for half-price and makes the switch, could you ask them to post something at www.myspace.com/joshrachlis and/or the blog at that page so that she can see people are doing it? that would be awesome.

here's jenn's posting:

---

Just posting to let you know that - first of all - you are an environmental superhero!

I hope the masses realize the personal sacrifices you make to create a better world for all of us to live in!! I've personally witnessed (and have been seriously delayed enroute to various engagements with you ;)) how you bravely approach all idlers and polluters...you are wholly incapable of passing a single bit of recyclable detritus on the street.

Anyway - for all of that - I salute you. love you. respect you. It's hard work. And all of your efforts are NOT falling on deaf ears...which brings me to my second point...

I'm going to Canadian Tire this weekend...and I encourage everyone else to do the same! No - I demand that you do the same! For Josh. So that he can sleep easier at night.

My challenge to all who read this - It's called "The Josh Challenge." Go buy one pack of Nomas. Buy two. And pass it on. I have a special prize for the person that buys the most. Or, is responsible for having the most light bulbs changed (by telling family and friends, for example). Let's see if we can reach 357 bulb changes by Feb 1st. Why 357? Because they are nice prime numbers and prime numbers are lucky.

Post when you change. No fakers!

Until further notice, blog updates will now be at my myspace page!

I was just asked why I haven't updated my blog lately. Seems someone was hungry for Josh Rachlis News. So I thought I should let you know that I'll be updating my blog at myspace for a while. Why? Because myspace lets me post my videos right on the page... and I can have a background of pretty pictures... and I can post "Upcoming Gigs"... and it lets you add yourself as a friend. Which is fun. I like having friends! So I'm going to post the latest news there for now. So check out the blog at:

www.myspace.com/joshrachlis



Check me out!

Upcoming CFRB Hosting Gigs... Starting tomorrow night!

Here's when I'll be on the radio. You can listen at 1010 AM in Toronto or at www.cfrb.com on the web. Call in and share your views on whatever nonsense I'm discussing! :)

Friday June 9th 8p-11p

Friday June 16th 8p - 11p

Friday June 23rd 7p - 10p

Monday June 26th 8p - 11p

If I had a roof, this is what I would be doing tonight

On last night's CFRB show, it felt like I was starting to get the "let's clean our air" message out there. That felt good. So in that spirit, let's keep things going. Check out this great discount program for solar panels. Imagine having a big portion of your energy bills paid for by none other than Mr. Sun. One day I'll have a house and I will do this. In the meantime, if you have a roof, it's up to you...

http://www.chrischopik.com/4a_custpage_13421.html

And here's what it says at that page:

Solar Energy – EVENT – May 16th Wychwood Library 6:30pm

There are many opportunities to save money and reduce energy costs through Solar Energy. Our community is initiating a bulk purchase of solar panels and installation. This is the second initiative of it’s kind in Toronto.

Please join Marc Paille and Chris Chopik to explore the financial viability of installing Solar on your home.

ChrisChopik.com [Events]

TUESDAY, MAY 16TH AT 6:30PM the Wychwood Public Library (on Bathurst south of St Clair)

Sponsor me and I'll stop global warming in your honour!

On Saturday I'll be climbing the CN Tower to stop global warming. Is global warming a problem? Trust me, I wouldn't be getting out of bed on Saturday morning if it weren't. You can sponsor me at this site:

http://wwfcentral.ca/NetCommunity/Page.aspx?&pid=233&srcid=232&frsid=4771

It's easier than asking people to stop idling their cars, and there's less chance you'll be sworn at.

Beaver Tale 3 now in post-production!

We shot on three separate days last week and Ruth "Ruty" Sorrell, my esteemed partner in Beaver Tale production, has now returned to Israel where editing on BT3 will commence. Meanwhile, our star - Pelt the Beaver - is recovering from the beating he took when a dog grabbed him in our park location and ran around for ten minutes trying to snap his neck. Pelt managed to finish the shoot, but he's now receiving intensive physio and psychotherapy.

The good folks at Post City Sound - who are such fans of the gum-chewin' beav that the first film is up at www.myspace.com/postcitysound - have generously offered their services for the next film. So get ready to hear the beav in full movie theatre Dolby Surround Sound. Or at least with less crappy wind noise in the background.

The tentative title for the film is Beaver Tale: The Break-Up. Yes, a darker Beaver Tale. Just like the third Star Wars. Except without Natalie Portman. 'Cause we turned down her offer to be in our movie. Why? Because she didn't really offer. I made that up. But if anyone knows her email address, send her the link to the first two Beaver Tale movies. Because you never know! Except in this case, yah, you do know. But still, I like to dream.

Now Playing: Beaver Tale 2!!!!

That's right! Beaver Tale: The Bed & Breakfast is now online for your viewing pleasure. Go here:

www.ifilm.com/ifilmdetail/2719393

And on that site you can click on "More from Josh Rachlis" to see the original Beaver Tale.

Crappy-looking low rez versions of the film are also up at www.addictingclips.com/joshrachlis and at www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_5rXbvTahE

To help you decided whether to watch it, here's a pithy synopsis:

"A sequel to the hit short film Beaver Tale, this film finds Pelt the Beaver bringing a little of his rustic forest charm to the city by running a Bed & Breakfast. Little does he know, one of his guests will capture his heart."

Intriguing, huh? Makes you want to watch it, huh? No, I didn't think so. But watch it anyway.

Rave reviews from my film fest hosting performance

Below is some feedback I just got from the Executive Director of the Canadian National Youth Film Festival, for those of you who were wondering if I was completely deluded when I told you that I think my hosting went well. Normally, of course, I would be completely deluded to think I did okay at anything. But in this rare instance it seems my delusions of grandeur may actually be substantiated. Then again, maybe the audience was drunk.

---

Hey Josh

Thank you so very much again for your amazing hosting duties! I have actually had eight e-mails and a couple phone calls from people just commenting on how much they enjoyed your, as one person put it, "...brilliantly understated, self-deprecating genius". So in other words, great job!

My first two radio shows were a success!

In the past couple of days it has come to my attention that some people actually read this blog, looking for updates on upcoming Josh appearances and for information on how things went. So I would be remisce in my duties to my fans if I didn't update this blog a bit more often. With, you know, Josh Rachlis News. Since this IS the Official Josh Rachlis News blog. And if I type in Josh Rachlis News one more time, maybe I'll get more prominent placement in Google searches. Should someone be searching for Josh Rachlis News.

ANYway, apparently CFRB was very excited about the shows that Tony and I did and asked Tony how soon we could be ready to get back on the air. He of course answered that we're always ready. So hopefully we'll be filling in for someone again soon.

And by the way, CFRB mentioned that they got a lot of positive emails about us. So if you were one of the people that sent a note, thanks! The station loves to hear about what people enjoy listening to and it helps them decide whom to put on the air. Their site is www.cfrb.com and they have a Contact section where you can find email addresses to send your feedback to. Unless you have negative feedback about my shows. In which case, I'm just kidding - they don't have a website at all.

I'm in Ottawa hosting the Canadian National Youth Film Fest

I just hosted a night and I'm hosting tomorrow night too. If you're in Ottawa, drop by from 6pm to 8pm on Saturday evening at the Alumni Building at U of O. Details are at the fest site: www.cnyfilmfestival.com

It's an honour to have been asked to do this. The Mayor hosted the opening night on Wednesday. And now it's all about the JoshMan (that's me). And actually, the movies are really amazing. You wouldn't think it's a youth festival at all. And my jokes before and after each film are even more amazing. So amazing that the audience is often completely silent with awe at how funny I am.

Josh is doing a radio show on Newstalk 1010 CFRB on March 21 and 22!!!

I'm gonna be burning up the airwaves as I co-host the Nightside show with my friend Tony Daniels (who used to work with Howard Stern) from 11pm to 1am on Tuesday, March 21 and Wednesday March 22. This may lead to a lifetime of radio stardom. Or it may be the last time I'm ever allowed in front of a microphone. In which case you should listen in, as it may be your last chance to hear me on air. You should probably listen to the first night, actually. Just in case. Might not be given the second night. Haha! Just kidding. Of course I'll be given the second night. And many more to come. Because I will be spreading love and kindness and laughter to the masses. And Lord knows, the world needs more love and kindness and laughter.

If you're not in range of Toronto's Newstalk 1010 CFRB (at 1010 AM on your radio dial), you can listen in at www.cfrb.com

And don't be shy to call into the show! You may be our only listener.

An Open Letter To Jack Layton: Extend your hand to the Green Party

Congratulations on a good showing last night. I myself talked at least several people into voting for the NDP instead of the wrong-headed "strategic" voting they were going to attempt. However, though I was an NDP member in university (I'm now 33) I had to vote Green this time. The environment is my biggest issue, as the other issues don't really matter at all if we don't have a planet to live on. And I needed to make a statement about how important this is to me. So I joined the Green Party, volunteered for them and voted for them.

I have to say, though, that I am torn. It seems foolish to be splitting the progressive, environmentally-responsible vote. Especially with the first-past-the-post system being the way it is. Whatever we think about the Conservatives, we have to admit that they were smart to consolidate and stop dividing their votes. I would think that our environment and our children deserve the same kind of strategic smarts.

I was pleasantly surprised to read in NOW Magazine that Adria Vasil, the environmental writer there, actually found the NDP to be ahead of the Greens in terms of green platforms. But I still voted Green in order to make it clear that the environment is a pressing issue. I'm sure many Green voters did the same thing. And it's sad that those votes couldn't add up to any seats in parliament.

And while perhaps some egos would be hurt, it seems to me that merging the Greens and the NDP is the logical thing to do if we actually care about saving the planet and making our country healthier and more prosperous. Greens got 665,940 votes this time. Almost half of what the Bloc got. Surely this could have made a difference in some of the ridings. As well, I think that a merger would encourage even more people than just those who voted Green to come over to the NDP. It would alleviate some of the fear that lead to strategic voting because people would view the NDP as an even stronger force. For many people it wouldn't seem as much like a "wasted vote." And I think it would even draw some Liberal voters who would realize that the NDP would now be truly the only party that cares about environmental issues.

There were some stirring speeches at the Green Party party last night in Kensington Market. Speeches about how in the last half century childhood asthma has gone from 1 in 50 children to now 1 in 5. Speeches about how many of the mock elections in schools overwhelmingly voted Green. These mock elections are evidence that our children know how crucial it is to turn things around. It would be great if, as these children and teens reach voting age, there were a united force that they could join in order to fight for a sustainable society.

A very sad thing about this election is that the Greens weren't allowed into the televised debates. This ensured that the environmental issue - for many people the most important issue of all - wasn't discussed at all. Instead we debated the merits of hundred dollar a month tax rebates and beat to death a decade-old sponsorship scandal. How truly sad. Maybe the Greens will get into those debates next time. Maybe not. But a surefire way would be for you to speak for them.

I've been mulling over the merits of a GreenDP. Of having Jim Harris, an eloquent, passionate and brilliant speaker, as the NDP Environmental Critic and one day Minister of the Environment. Of having NDP'ers calling to task the government for the murder of thousands of Canadians a year through smog. Other than the fact that when you mix Green and Orange you get an unfortunate shade of Brown, it all seems to make sense.

I listened carefully to the speeches last night to hear what the Greens feel they bring to the table that the NDP doesn't. The Greens speak of being the only party that realizes it's time for a change. They speak of being the only party that will entrench the right to clean air and water into the Charter of Rights, allowing citizens to use the courts to clean up their area. Are these values really so far off from what the NDP believes? The NDP website speaks of people's right to clean air and water. Could we not all work together here?

I know the NDP gets a lot more votes than the Greens. So a name like the GreenDP would seem like placing too much weight on a party that "only" gets a bit over 600,000 votes. But it's not that crazy. It would be a symbol that you, Jack Layton, are embracing the future. That you truly represent the health of our country. That you are doing it not just for us, but for our children. That you will work with all truly progressive people to make a change. That it's not just about egos, it's about love and caring and compassion.

I don't know you personally, Mr. Layton, but from what I've seen and heard, I truly believe that you are a person who cares about issues larger than yourself. That you truly care about other people. That you want to reach out and help as many people as you can.

I might just be blowing hot air here and dreaming up nonsense. But maybe I'm not. Maybe I've got something here. Maybe it's not too late to save ourselves from environmental destruction.

The bottom line is that it's ridiculous that I had to tell my friends "Vote Green... Or at least NDP." With the system the way it is, we need to unite and stop screwing around. We don't have time for partisan games. We need action. And we need everyone who believes what we believe to be on the same team.

I know you're busy these days, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

Sincerely,

Josh Rachlis

It's time. Get out and vote Green (or NDP) on Monday. Please.

I spent a couple of hours today dropping off Green Party flyers door to door. (Yes, they were on recycled paper.) While I was walking around I picked up cans and bottles off the ground and dropped them into recycling bins. During my trek, I saw a couple of men putting up Conservative Party signs. While they were down the street nailing their signs into the ground, their car was sitting on the side of the road with the engine idling. With nobody in the car. Poisoning our air. It was pretty symbolic. I was going to give them one of my anti-idling brochures but I decided that a slow death by poisonous car fumes was preferable to being beaten to death by a Conservative Party sign.

Anyway, what's my point? My point is that I'm really trying to make the world a better place. I'm spending a lot of time doing that so that we will all benefit from cleaner air and a more compassionate, loving society. And there are a lot of people that are doing a heck of a lot more than me. Devoting their entire lives to making your country and your world a healthier, happier, more beautiful place to live in and to raise a family in. And all we're asking is that you take a little detour on your way to or from work tomorrow and put a little check-mark on a piece of paper. That's not too hard, is it? But it can make more of a difference than anything I can do.

People around the world are dying in their struggle for the right to vote. As recently as 1936, women weren't allowed to vote in Quebec. I believe it's your responsibility as a good person to do this. Don't allow those who want to take away basic human rights and let us all die from Global Warming to set the agenda for the country. Have your say. Everyone is listening. I don't care whom you vote for, just get out and vote. Okay, I lied. I do care whom you vote for (DRAMATIC ASIDE: And I hate the word "whom.") Make it the Green Party or the NDP and let's make this a better country to live in. Think about who - I mean, "whom" - you're doing it for. (Your parents? Your boyfriend? Your wife? Your sibling? Yourself? Josh Rachlis? Aw, that's sweet. Thanks.) And then go do it.

Below is an email I just got from the Green Party. It also applies if you're going to vote NDP. Once you're done reading it, shut down your computer and head to the polls. Let's kick some butt.

-Josh

--

Go Out and Vote

We are a grassroots party and it is finally up to the grassroots.

We have done everything in our power to make this a good campaign, to articulate our position, to put the facts in front of voters. We are now relying on you to go out and vote.

You need to get yourself to the polls. You need to call anyone you know who is going to vote Green and encourage them to vote. If someone needs help to get to the polls please help them out. That's it. That's all. You can vote for a vision of hope for Canada or yesterday's status quo. It's up to you.

Go Green

Vote Jan 23rd let's get the Green community out to be counted.

Josh has joined the Green Party. You should too!

It's so easy! Just go to www.greenparty.ca and click on "Join." Then, for a minimum tax-deductible donation of ten measly bucks, you can support the only party that is fighting to reduce the economic, environmental and social waste that is literally killing us. Check out some of their views on the site... It all makes so much sense, it's scary. Oh, and of course, make sure to get out there and vote Green. Your vote really does count, and they even get a bit of government funding for each vote they get too.

Sorry that there was nothing funny about this post. But there's nothing funny about being killed by toxic air either. Nor is it hilarious that it's 9 degrees celcius in Toronto in January. Unless you're a cockroach who's just waiting for the human race to die so you can finally take over the world. Then this post is a total knee-slapper. If cockroaches had knees.