I’m pretty surprised at how much I agree with The Star’s Chris Hume in his evaluation of Toronto architecture. With yesterday’s exception, of course. Perhaps it’s because we both see modernity as forward-looking rather than the total destruction of all we hold near and dear. Maybe we’re both able to see change as a progression rather than a personal attack.

I still reserve the right to be a crotchety old fart when I arrive at the appropriately ripe age, but for now I gotta give Chris his props for his number two “Best Buildings of Toronto” pick, Maple Leaf Square. I love the giant screen looming over the Air Canada Centre’s western entrances, and I like it even more when the square is filled with gawking event attendees — the thought of all those suburbanites surrounded by mighty, erect Toronto towers and majestic, sexy architecture gives me a special feeling.

The Toronto Star’s Cristopher Hume continues his assault on modern sensibilities with his number three pick from his Toronto’s best/worst architecture list, the Michael Lee-Chin Crystal building that juts out from the northern end of the Royal Ontario Museum.

Chris took it upon himself to preempt our collective vitriol and disgust for this building by reassuring us that he’s well aware of just how much we hate it. He picked it nonetheless, pointing to its 21-century styling as the determining factor for his choice. Far be it for me to question his assertions about how all Canadians feel, but personally, I kinda dig this building. It’s an incredibly stark yet beautiful (especially in the right light), extension of the stalwartly historic ROM building, and I’ve yet to read about anyone taking an eye out on the thing, so I guess I’m the one lone Canadian that disagrees.

A.K.A. The George Brown College Chef School, this is Hume’s second pick for his best buildings of Toronto list. I would’ve thought that, maybe, it had something to do with its association with Susur Lee, or maybe some kinda proud culinary tradition or some such junk, but instead Hume likes the building mostly because aspiring chefs can have their kitchen failures ogled by random pedestrians passing by outside — the front is all glass.

Personally, I think Chris is out to lunch with this pick. Maybe he’s simply bit off more than he can chew. Or, if you want, chalk it up to a difference in tastes.

Enough awful food-oriented punnery? Let’s watch the video:

According to the Toronto Star’s Christopher Hume, everybody’s always asking him what the best and worst buildings in the city are. Plus, everybody loves a list. Who am I to argue with such hyperbole-free reasoning? Besides, I have my own faves, and although Chris’ picks would probably make my own Top-20 list, I’m not convinced everybody, everywhere, throughout all known time and dimensions, would agree with either of us. Still, Chris’ picks are a good place to start.

Here’s his #5 pick, the Pure Spirit building that marks the north-west corner of the Distillery District and which, as Mr. Hume so aptly points out, brought order and reason to an area of town that barely obeyed the laws of physics.

I probably looked like someone preparing for an assassination. But I had a purpose, dear reader. Yes, a master plan. A secret master plan.

That’s right, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss why I looked like I would be involved in a Bourne-like plot, but I could see how my behaviour could be construed as such.

I stood at the each location, gazing across the street to check the sightlines. Then I’d go to that location and gaze back from there. Suspicious. And, being the proud papa of a short new cut, along with my daunting shades, I probably looked the part of someone who might use those sightlines for nefarious purposes.

And I was on a mission.

Determined to hit as many of my ten destinations as I could. I managed six. Well, seven if you count the bendy CN Tower. I’m not sure if I’m counting it just yet; we’ll see which way I’m leaning later on. But I trekked the hell out of those streets. Up to the steps of Casa Loma…

…down to the most prominent building on Queen Street…

…onward to the CBC where I had a shouting match with Glenn Gould…

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…continued from previous part.

Sometimes fate provides the best illustrations of the topic at hand. Tonight, for example, as I was nearing my flat, I passed a regular panhandler seeking the usual “money for food, sir?” He probably could use food, truth be told; he’s skinny, has an unpleasant complexion, and wears early-eighties Bill Gates goggles replete with the chunkiest of lenses.

I have the “no” head-shake down so well now that I can even do it from behind. Which I did. Question stopped. Alas, it took Goggles less than half a second to shout to a compatriot across the street asking if he could get a “pipe for a dollar fifty?” I honestly have no idea if that’s in any way realistic. But that’s not the point.

What Goggles did was to demonstrate the importance of just doing something in order to kick-start the Ultimate Success® machine. The first attempt doesn’t have to be successful, as long as you’re focused on the near-term goal — research, planning, and organization will just flow naturally from there.

Goggles will get his pipe. You bet.

Step 6 – Do Stuff

On the outskirts of Taichung City there were fields and fields of muddy, flooded rice paddies bordered by sloppily-paved embankments that farmers, and their vehicles, used to get around.

I’d lived in Taiwan for about two years before one day noticing that a car had just exited one of these paddy roads at the foothills near my house (the island is mostly mountains). That meant that there had to be something on the other side!

I should point out that these weren’t really roads – the driver of the car I’d noticed advanced very carefully. He had about half a foot separating him and a hilarious dip into the short-grain Chinese staple on either side. And, although a car could barely fit, farmers insisted on taking farm vehicles on these embankments. Okay, the tractors and trucks were smaller than North American ones, but still bigger than a car. Serious business atop tarred and dilapidated concrete slabs, let me tell you.

I should mention that, although it’s probably since improved, traffic priority in the country was based on size and aggressiveness. On a motor scooter, you generally gave way to cars. Cars gave way to mini-trucks. Mini-trucks gave way to farm vehicles. So on. Red lights were a suggestion, sidewalks were simply another place to drive. Just about every cabby flashed a gloriously red Betel nut smile, usually while spitting joyfully red sludge on the sidewalk.

The floor-cleaner-tasting nut (of course I tried it!), created a short-lived intoxication not unlike alcohol. I believe a certain level of actual alcohol was considered to be a stimulant, but that could’ve been a y-guo myth (why-guo-ren: foreigner). Despite that story, the cabbies drove around at a very controlled level of intoxication, that much was certain, so I’m sure there was some acceptable limit. I’d often be offered Betel nut (with a courtesy spitting cup), and a can of beer when hitching a cab. Just requested to keep it low.

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