Allow me to take you on a linguistic journey unlike any other you’ve ever experienced, dear reader. This one is broad-spectrum dazzle machine, from the choice to capitalize final letterS on arbitrary words, to the repeated insistence that this all happened in real life. You know what? Before I prejudice you too much, have a gander for yourself:

The fuzzy part in the corner I had to destroy – Ron put his date of birth and social insurance number on there. Presumably to assure everyone in the public that he’s the real deal. Identity theft is so easy these days. Of course, perhaps you might not want to steal that identity; Ron doesn’t sound like a social climber.

Now I do want to go on record as saying that one’s family should never Robe one, especially not in real life. I might’ve even tossed Ron a quarter, or whatever it was he was asking for. Or .. did he want me to … disRobe him? Haha! No can do, Ron-o!

But where was our Mr. Loeman? One of his competitors came by blurting out, “…whore…holy shit! What the hell is that?!”, pointing at the placard. The drenched-in-urine smell that wafted around the corner with him snapped be back to my senses – you have to admit, the poster is quite mesmerizing. Sucks you in with it’s particular meter and tone. “I Trying To have them Chared in real life…” – haunting, melodic. Tragic (what with the charring and the whatnot).

But I suddenly noted that no one was hanging around the sign. No sign of Doug anywhere.

Guess he’s just trying to get his message out.

So here you go, Ron. Just keep your Robes on and your nose outta trouble. I’m sure it’ll work out in the end.

But what am I supposed to do with your SIN and DOB?

…continued from previous part.

There are a few other things about Honest Ed’s that I find mirrored in Toronto. Probably the most prominent is a fairly deep-rooted sense of history. Okay, I know, it’s no European or Asian history, but it’s a minor miracle that some of this stuff has survived over a hundred years. Some more than that. The weather’s not kind to any structure — frozen water in cracks can split boulders — so I find it kind of impressive that one of the gargoyles on Old City Hall hasn’t crushed anyone yet. Honest Ed’s wears its age in the same way — proud and stalwart.

And I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I think it’s fantastic how many new buildings are being constructed on, outside, or inside new structures. There’s no point in keeping a rotting building standing, but that doesn’t mean something can’t be salvaged. And parking lots, raze and raise anew, that’s a no-brainer. In fact, a well-planned building can significantly increase public parking simply through increased vertical space. Assuming you’d need to drive.

I actually laughed when I read through the whole article in the next photo. I included it extra-large so that you can read it for yourself, dear reader. I hope — I didn’t want to make it too big. The gist of it is, why can’t the queen do something more interesting while she’s in Canada. Among the suggestions of gently ageing attractions is, of course, Honest Ed’s. Honest Ed’s is, in fact, mentioned exactly twice: once in the headline, and once in very much the same phrasing, context, and spirit as the headline, at the bottom of the first paragraph.

It’s as pawing and inoffensive (i.e. saying as little as possible), as cheese gets, kinda like Céline Dion (on behalf of all Canadians, I’m deeply sorry). Yet, despite the awful awful writing and pointless drivel (Gary Lautens’ way of saying “I just don’t care anymore”), Ed decided to blow it up, frame it, and stick it front-and-center on his store. It doesn’t say Honest Ed’s is a cheap-hound’s humping leg (note: *woof!*). Nor does it it insinuate that Ed Mirvish may have been unbelievably high on LSD for most of his adult life (note: I’m willing to start this rumour if you are – I think it’ll fly).

In fact, nothing provocative is said about the store at all except that, on average, the writer thinks you’ll spend about half an hour there. And I dunno about you but that provokes nothing in me. Maybe, yeah, I guess I spend half an hour in there? Maybe more? Ooh, sizzling controversy!

And this, writing about a guy who really didn’t keep much in.

What I find both funny and revealing about this is that the strangest people get a voice in this city. Sometimes we call these people special-interest groups – which they obviously are – or loud kooks, or in this case I can’t help but get the feeling that Ed and Gary were chums.

So it’s kind of nice that I can wander on down to the corner and start screaming whatever I damn well please. Or pretty much. Also, even though I most certainly reserve the unmitigated right to continue to be arbitrarily critical, I do like the fact that  ridiculous stuff is getting a hearing. In fact, it almost forces a reply!

Same goes for scandal. Okay, I won’t defend it – of course not; but the fact that we’re hearing about it means that it’s getting uncovered. And sometimes TCL benefits.

Okay, I know that the connection between this version of things and Honest Ed’s is a bit tenuous. But nonetheless true – I saw things differently that day. I’ve considered the possibility that it was just because I’d recently accepted a new job, or because I happened to be a little pickled, and I’ll cede that both are likely to have played a large role. But something stayed with me even to this day. Ed took me to school  (from beyond the grave!)

Really decent prices too.

I came in to work today at about nine fifty. I admit, that’s a bit of a record for me, but that would’ve been a no-no in the past. It’s not that I’m there to do any less work, it’s just that my brain isn’t really engaged at that point in the morning — I work better later in the day. Caffeine really isn’t doing it for me anymore; the brain is still a slug even though the body’s on the move. Taking her out for a spin like that, that’s just reckless.

But I was one of the first few people in the office. Wow.  Different time schedule. I feel like a bit of a brownnoser right now. Totally unintended though, I swear. But still. Wow.

It’s the past that allows us to cherish moments such as these. The past, who recently requested that I fork over the difference for the “overpayment” on my final paycheque. In fact, I got paid less than usual. I expected less, but I most certainly didn’t get more. *sigh* Why can’t the past just go to hell already?

I’ll tell you why – it’s the battle scars we have to bear with us. Mementos to remind us that comparisons may indeed be made. And of course, nothing’s perfect, but one must also be sure to look around and note one’s blessings. Like not walking away with a chafed anus every day. That’s a nice feeling.

And being reminded of the past is instrumental in helping judge not only present but also future prospects. Take Adam “Jammie-Jams” Giambrone; the baby-faced newcomer to the Toronto mayoral race. I didn’t think it was possible to demonstrate that he has any less personality, but Jammers just turned that assumption on its ear. Here’s Jammie-Jam’s announcement he was going to run:

He’s well known for entering politics at a very young age. See? That’s what happens when you do it too young. You end up a humourless log. For a young guy, you think he’d be able to pull a little charm out of his ass, but it seems he’s plum out.

Poor kid. He even foreshadowed his own downfall at his own I’m-loud-and-I’m-proud event:

I like when he talks about learning lessons from the past to build the city of the future. Holy cow! Wasn’t it, like, just yesterday that another kooky decision by the TTC was uncovered? The one about the buses that have to sit idling outside because some Swedish-made system to keep them warm and ready doesn’t operate well in extremely cold temperatures. (GAH! Isn’t that exactly when it needs to work well?!) I only mention this because it could be any one of the dozens of boondoggles and genuine fuck-ups that Jammers is responsible for. He does, after all, run the TTC.

Wow, I mean, if by some miracle Jammie should get elected, that would necessitate me having to redraw my plans for the future. To something more apocalypsy. I’m sure it won’t happen, but let’s just make sure by not forgetting yesterday’s decimated fields of dreams. Trampled on by Jam-master Giambronay. And when I say yesterday, I mean literally yesterday.

Damn, my anus hasn’t even begun to heal yet. Have they no shame?!

…continued from previous part.

The reason that Honest Ed’s is kid-safe is because of all the nooks and crannies that the little hellions can occupy themselves in. The place is chock-a-block with weird props from all the retired Mirvish shows, plus a bunch of other stuff that Ed collected over the years. Most of it just lying around. At one moment you’re staring into a fun-house mirror, the next you’re enjoying the thrilling rape of Persephone by Hades (bringing us joyous winter every year). Right next to the dirt-cheap sweat pants.

The valuable stuff is all cordoned off with lazily hung caution tape; basically a wishful suggestion. And if you wander around long enough, you get into parts of the store where even the yellow tape is absent. Maybe the stuff is for sale, but he price seems a bit steep for most of Honest Ed’s regulars.

I don’t want to give anyone any ideas but … c’mon! Isn’t this just asking to be robbed?! What kind of an effort would you have to make? Even if you wanted to play Mission Impossible, that ceiling wouldn’t really pose much of a challenge, would it? It would be a really uneventful mission, totally possible. You’d be sorry you bought all that fancy equipment; probably coulda just waltzed in off the street and strolled back out with a 19th century Thai shrine and a few reasonably-priced stainless steel pots.

… Continue Reading