This is Joe's Fault

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

Won't You Be My Neighbour?

I live in a very busy part of Toronto, right behind the Canadian National Exhibition and Ontario Place, in fact.



The CNE and Ontario Place is where many a festival, firework display, or sporting event takes place. These happenings usually occur during the summer months, usually on long weekends. My roommates and I tend to take off on the long weekends to a cottage or camping or somewhere and we tend to miss all of the parking headaches, congestion and noise. We also tend to miss all of the fun.

This year, however, we had no plans and stayed in the city for Caribana weekend, which we were excited about. Every year our neighbours hold a huge party on the Saturday night of the Caribana celebrations and we've always missed it, but heard great things about it. This year, however, they branched out and tried to include the whole street in on it. They got permission to close off our small street for the night and a bunch of the neighbours set out tables and chairs and got out their barbecues and cooked up food for whoever wanted to come by to eat and socialize.

We even had a couple of guys set up their guitars and amps in one of the driveways and played some top 40, and when they took a break another neighbour came on to play some excellent blues for a while. Later in the night a couple of people who live in the neighbourhood were walking by and asked if they could join in. Their specialty is the flamenco guitar, and it really fit in with the diverse feel of the night.

Our neighbours are Portuguese, Chinese, East Indian, Italian, French, Caribbean, etc. etc. It was really cool to be able to walk between the houses fill your plate up with Indian rice, Chinese noodles, jerk chicken, potato salad, crawdads, etc. It was like a giant Benetton street party. Even the crack house joined in.

It was a lot of fun and we all got to mingle with and get to know our neighbours a little better. And the thing that struck me the most was that the more I talked to people, the more I realized that people were very loyal to our little neighbourhood. Everyone has been here for years and years, and if they had for some reason moved it was still into the same surrounding area. And I can see why.

Five years ago I came to live with my friends for a few months in between apartments. I was intent on getting my own place again, because I really, really wanted to continue living on my own. I thought it was more mature to live on your own and that it was certainly more responsible. Plus, when you live with other people you have to make sacrifices and compromises and try a little harder to get along together. And who wants to do that?

But then I realized that it was a lot of fun living with your friends. And that it was harder to stay depressed or angry or sad when there were other people in the house taking the piss out of you. And that they got me to go out more and do more fun things.

Also, I saved a crap-load of money and was able to pay off my student loans, buy myself my a new bed and actually have spending money at the end of every month. It occurred to me that perhaps it was actually more grown up to put up with a bit of inconvenience in order to get myself in shape fiscally and do a little of the hard work of living with other people. So I stayed. For five years.

And I've come to learn that Parkdale is a great neighbourhood. It's close to downtown (15 min cab ride to the heart of the city), it's close to the lake, it's close to the freeways, and there's always something going on. We get to hear great bands in the comfort of our own homes, see airshows for free and can walk over to the Ex without having to worry about parking. Sure it's got its share of problems, poverty, crime and a mental health issues (we've got a booby hatch in the neighbourhood), but it's got character and energy and life, too.

Back in the early 1900s it used to be the chi-chi part of town, so it's got these great old Victorian houses with wood floors and chimneys and stained glass windows. Even though a lot of them are cut up into apartments or semi-detached housing (mine included), they still are much more interesting then the horrible new cookie-cutters being planted all over the city.

Plus, where else can you see a person taking his television for a stroll on a little red wagon? You won't see that kind of thing in your Rosedales or your Thornhills, I'll tell you that for nuthin'.

I had a good time on the weekend at our neighbourhood shindig, even if the aftermath is that I now have to smile and wave at everyone on the street when I go to put the garbage out. I don't mind it, strangely. I actually borrowed a saw from my neighbour on the weekend after the party, too. If this keeps up, I may find myself skipping across the street to borrow a cup of crack (although, as long as I don't call out happily, "Hi-diddly-ho addict-a-rinos!" I should be fine).

Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Quick Bit

Hey there kids! Yesterday was a holiday for the Canadians among us, and, accordingly, I took the weekend off (it's the law). I am working on an update which should appear here tomorrow, perhaps. Just thought I'd let you know.

Um, so yeah. That's what's going on.

Oh, I know. I'll give you a topic! Why did the guy who invented slippers call his new creation that? It is a name that evokes images of slipping, sliding and general mayhem, especially for the klutzy out there. Why, it sounds as though one is putting two banana skins right in the most dangerous of places. And yet slippers are comfy, warm and safe and have had a very successful run (especially with old people, a demographic that should be terrified of falling down) despite this huge marketing setback. Discuss.