Hooray for you, Mari Sasano.

I love primatology. They are such remarkable animals. Once, in Indonesia, I was lucky enough to have two encounters with primates: one, a slow loris in a bird market in Jakarta (nevermind that endangered species should never be SOLD at a market!) was placed in my arms by hopeful salesmen (it was soft and had amazing grip strength, if you’re curious), and second, I was grabbed by a baby orangutan at a zoo. It looked right in my eyes and tried to give me a big hug before its handler took it away. I’m not really sure what a baby orangutan was doing hanging out with visitors like that, but it was really moving to see the look in its eyes and feel the very human-like hands in mine. I know that most orangutans in zoos like that are orphans, and I’ll never the look it gave me.

Naturally, I’ve admired Jane Goodall for all of my life. Living in the wilderness observing chimpanzees for 30 years? A dream life. On Thursday, Pauline and I were lucky enough to see her speak at the Jube. It was a pretty elementary speech, covering her career and a few key ideas from her Reason For Hope book, but it was nevertheless very moving.

I’ve always believed that people who spend a great deal of time with animals become better human beings by it. She’s proof. Here’s a woman who travels more days than not, meets tens of thousands of people, and still is so patient, so eager for genuine connections to fellow humans. And all the experience she has had with her chimpanzees has taught her so much about our own lives. “There is no one here who doesn’t have more than enough,” she says. And it’s absolutely true. And so, we’re all responsible for each other, human and animal, because in the end THEY are WE.

I was so moved by her talk that I cried, a little. She signed books with anyone who was willing to wait, and when it was my turn, I thanked her for her work. It means so much to me. And Pauline added, “She cried.”

And Dr. Goodall said to me, “It’s good to cry. If you don’t have tears in your eyes, there can’t be rainbows.”

Monday was the fourth Mayor’s Celebration of the Arts. I’ve been to it every year, and I have to say I love it.

Not only do I get to see people win awards (and every year, a couple friends get nominated, so yay!), there are little performances that make this into an awesome Edmontonian variety show. Just a quick taste of a little of everything. If you’re one of those people who rarely makes it out to arts events, this is a no-risk way of enjoying things for as little as $25.

Kita no Taiko, which rarely has big concert performances, started things off. I love those guys. BOOM! BOOM! And the little jumps and “Yoy!” s that the drummers do. Opera, hip hop, exceprts from Stewart Lemoine plays, Brian Webb dancing to Sheri Somerville, and Le Fuzz wrapping things up.

And hosted by Peter Brown and Carrie Doll! Nice work, Peter, on the nude poetry joke. Bigger kudos to Ted Blodgett for running with it! Mayor Mandel grooving in his box as usual, and this year, the new Culture minister Lindsay Blackett and even Premier Ed showed up!

The signs of improving cultural policy have been in the air for some time now, but none better than Blackett shaking it onstage with Le Fuzz. He even got up there on his own, rather than the more stage-shy Mandel who was lured by a fellow dancer. And it’s hard to go to these things without running into EVERYONE. It’s fun, for the artists, the media, businesses, politicians, and audiences. And afterwards, a party, just to hammer that point home.

So I went to the show last night, you can read about it in the Journal tomorrow or online now.

But here’s what’s really cool. You’d think that the best thing to be at a standing show is tall. Not so. I was basically forced to the very front by super-drunk people because “You’re so tiny.” Which I’m not. I’m 5’1″, which the last time I checked was well within a normal height for a full grown woman. But it was enough.

I watched the entire Cliks set at the very front. It was rad. Then I was stuck there for half of the Cult. The only reason I wriggled out of there was because I felt bad that not only was I there for free, I was going to make money from it. Oh, and some guy’s dad was being a little too “protective.” I don’t need some guy’s dad’s hand on my shoulder, thanks.