Photos from my walk the other day.

I thought these people were meditating but no, they were reading books in the
shade on the grassy hill overlooking the boardwalk / lake ontario at balmy beach.

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Friday, after Jason got off work.
The plan: take the Martin Goodman Trail & head downtown to Queen West to photograph graffiti alley. Changed my mind & decided I’d rather meet Jason at Queen subway station after work someday & walk to it instead because I’d prefer we not have to drag our bicycles along when I just know I’ll want to take pictures of every bit of alley when we get there – like I did before.

Photo Shoot at Balmy Beach.
We couldn’t even get out of the neighbourhood without me stopping us to take pictures – Jason pointed out the bride & groom on the rocks. In his particular part of The Beach/es (to about Leuty Lifeguard Station) along the boardwalk I have seen photo shoots, commercials or films in progress and music videos made. It’s a lovely stretch and has a different feel then westward on the boardwalk. More volleyball nets & all-day players, more sunbathers & groups of young people hanging out on benches pretending to be oblivious to the aforementioned things. All along the boardwalk from one end to the other, with the trail alongside, you’ll find couples of all ages, people walking their dogs, rollerbladers & cyclists.

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Jason & I on the streetcar.
We’re reflected through the window of Telegramme. If you look closely, you can see me with my camera. I had a panic (as usual) before we left the house but I’m glad I went anyway!

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You know, I really thought that last post about letting your kids wander around alone in a city would’ve been more contentious. Apparently not. Gotta say, the TCL readership is waaaaaay more liberal than I ever could’ve imagined. Cool!

Or you’re still reading. Sorry, it was kinda long. I’ll do my best to keep this one lighter.

Nothing much to say anyway. The Music Garden is supposed to communicate through other senses.

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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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Regarding the title, I simply came to the conclusion that, really, is there a better opportunity to use it than today? I mean, tomorrow the interweb could break and then I’d be kicking myself in the pants for weeks for having missed the golden moment. So there’s that explained.

Of course, this all has to do with my insistence on integrity. You see, I may resort to describing the glistening contours of the thing that emerged from my bowels this morning, but only if that thing actually took form, and I’m really hurting for a topic. So when I make a bowl of miso, I may freely incorporate it into the discussion, and title, and rest assured it’s better than just any old shit.

This particular bowl of miso also has a history.

I was walking near the lakeshore on Cherry Street pretending to be Rain Man and taking pictures of random stuff in the sky. Here’s one I call “Wapner’s on at three”:

The wind in that area is out to murder people; not hurt or maim, murder. I pulled my hands out for, maybe, three seconds to take that picture and I nearly lost them both to exposure. I need to get a glove fund started or pretty soon I’ll be the famous stumpy blogger who mashes out his photos like he mashes out his posts, poorly. I’m not good with stumps.

By keeping my hands in my pockets, I managed to defrost them long enough to take a few more pictures, but the closer I got to the lake the more it was looking like the wind would have its way with me before tossing my bedraggled corpse over the side of the bridge into the dark, choppy waters below.

And I gotta tell ya, that just didn’t sound like fun at all.

Huddled in my coat and hands stuffed as far away from danger as possible, I double-timed it out of there. The two surviving photos are entitled “I’m an excellent driver” and “Wapner’s on at three redux”, respectively:

Okay, so I’ve just escaped a savage death at the hands of the elements but I’m still not out of the woods; now the miso comes into play.

In that God-forsaken land where there is naught but wailing and gnashing of teeth, there stands a gaily lit T&T Supermarket. The T&T carries probably the most extensive assortment of Asian / Taiwanese goods outside of Asia / Taiwan, many of which I picked up a taste for during my expat years. The winters during that time were cold and damp and my rock-solid cure for them was hot miso and cold sushi. Well, mostly the miso. The sushi came around on one of those little conveyor belts — the fish was kinda secondary. Plus they had killer wasabi.

So I ducked into the T&T and, completely separated from the maelstrom outside, picked through green onions to the soothing sounds of Gordon Lightfoot. I wandered the aisles pretending to be shopping for chopsticks or … woks or … live squid or … tampons until I warmed up enough for the daunting journey back home. … Continue Reading