I stumbled across this record of a brief encounter memorialized on a stone tablet at a brick beach. I’m amazed I even chanced upon it, lying there, partially hidden amongst all the bricks, cinderblock and other demolition site junk that created this beach on the Leslie Street Spit, in Toronto’s East End. That someone had…
Read More It Was a Dark and Stormy Nite“Hi, my name’s Neil!” says the guy, loudly, as he turns the corner right in front of me and moves into my way. I’m walking home from work, it’s just after 5 p.m. and starting to get dark. The temperature is 4°, unseasonably warm for January—a nice night to walk home. I have to stop…
Read More NeilAdam is sitting in the steel and leather barber’s chair, his back to the small table displaying the tools of his trade and the large mirror on the wall, as he talks to an older guy seated across from him. The mirror competes for wall space with a number of vintage Playboy pin-up posters, the edges of…
Read More Corrado’s barbershopNew Year’s Eve, Franco and me sitting at the Old York bar while Graham the bartender has me serving champers… Graham: “Get a good grip. That’s it.” Me: “Like this?” “Yeah. Now move it gently. Gently! That’s it. Keep going, pull it slowly.” “I hope I’m doing this right.” “Mmm, that’s nice, you got it. Yes. It’s coming.…
Read More The Bubbly VirginWalking by the TIFF Bell Lightbox building on King West on the way to work this morning, a guy in front of us strolls along with a hint of a drunken swagger. Dressed in ripped and soiled jeans, a dirty jacket that’s too big for his slight frame and carrying a green plastic bottle crate, he weaves and snakes…
Read More A morning walk to workFor the record, I am not a good skater. I’m actually pretty crap at it, but I will give it a try every now and then. Today Franco and I went down to the Harbourfront Centre Natrel Rink for a practice session. He’s taking hockey lessons right now and needed to practice so I tagged along for the ride,…
Read More Skating at the HarbourfrontThe first thing I noticed as I opened the door to the outside was an overwhelming fragrance. Flower beds filled with honeysuckle, iris, and aubrietia lined both sides of the path leading to the rooftop garden. Their heady perfume, floating on the warm summer air, mingled with the baser smell of damp soil to create…
Read More Up on the roofSince moving into our old house in 2007, there have been some debates between El Franco and me over the state of the flagstones in the small front yard. I maintained that they were in good condition and that we didn’t need to remove them, whereas El Franco hated the relatively new yellow stone flags…
Read More Good FridayI attended a presentation this week by Peabody Award-winning writer and broadcaster, Jowi Taylor, about his project Six String Nation. During the presentation Jowi explained how, in the weeks leading up to the 1995 Quebec Referendum, he was dismayed by the quality of the iconography portrayed by the media as representing the Canadian identity. These symbols were hokey in…
Read More Six String NationI just went to Trinity-Bellwoods Park on Queen West, where there was a gathering of redheads. It was an event organised by a couple of filmmakers—Gareth C. Scales and Aaron Champion—for an upcoming documentary about life as a ginger, so I thought I’d go check it out. Unfortunately, the weather took a turn for the worse…
Read More Toronto Redhead SummitWe went out for bike ride on Sunday, trying to find the entrance to a new bike path named the West Toronto Railpath. It took us about 20 minutes to wend our way through the West End until we finally reached Landsdowne, which is where the website map shows the (supposed) southern end of the path. If you…
Read More A street named ShirleyWalking home last night after work, I tried to stay on the sunny side of the street as much as possible. Even though the weather is warming up, there’s still a chill in the air and keeping in the sun makes for a more pleasant stroll through the city. My mobile sunbathing technique took me…
Read More No smoke without fire“Do you mind if I sit here?” I asked an older, portly gentleman at lunchtime today, as I approached his table in the dining area downstairs in the St. Lawrence Market. “Of course not,” he replied as he sat alone eating his own lunch, wearing an oversized jacket so not in keeping with the warm…
Read More The secret photographerThere was a young 20-some-year-old woman sitting opposite me yesterday, as I had dropped by the Luna Café at Argyle & Dovercourt. She was listening to her iPod while reading a magazine but her eyes never remained long on whatever she was reading. She kept glancing furtively at what few patrons were in the coffee…
Read More Coffee at Luna CaféThe intersection of Bay and King Streets in the downtown core of Toronto can be a busy and treacherous crossing for pedestrians. This is where the Go Train crowds gather as they make their way to work in the mornings, or as they head back to the train station on their way home at the end of the day.…
Read More Look left, look right