Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together…mass hysteria.

Something monumental has happened. A seismic shift in my thinking. In my very being. Something I never thought would happen. But it has.

I’m rooting for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

While I’ve lived in Toronto more than half my life, the Leafs have always been my sworn enemy. I’m a Montreal fan, remember, so for me no team is as despised as the Leafs and Bruins, and my annoyance at the deluded nature of Leafs fans these past two decades has — if anything — made the Leafs and Bruins 1 and 1a respectively. Not to mention my dread at how insufferable this city becomes if they win so much as a playoff series. So the Leafs may be the only team I have actively cheered against for most of my life.

But things have changed. At least for this year.

First of all, despite collecting 96 points during the regular season (which would have comfortably earned a playoff spot in the Western conference) the Canadiens missed the playoffs. That Columbus, the team who barely squeaked into the #8 playoff spot, swept the #1-ranked Tampa Bay Lightning in the first round makes it particularly disappointing. Anyway, all today: I don’t really have a dog in this playoff fight.

Second: I would very much like to see a Canadian team win the cup again. It hasn’t happened since Montreal (yay!) won it all in 1993, and of the three Canadian teams who did qualify Toronto seems to have the best chance. Calgary, the #1 seed in the west, has already been knocked out. Winnipeg, certainly the team I’d have loved to see win it all, went into the playoffs cold and got knocked out in six games. Toronto, on the other hand, is leading in their series and — given the sweep of Tampa and the Pittsburgh Penguins — has a real chance to come out of the east.

Third, the Leafs are playing the Bruins in the first round, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend, even if in this case I’m being selective about it.

Fourth, and this is how I can justify the hypocrisy of the previous point: I actually like some of the players on the Leafs. That has not happened in the past — in addition to disliking the team, I disliked many of the players as well. But I like Auston Matthews. I like Patrick Marleau. I like John Tavares. I really like Mitch Marner. And I wouldn’t hate to see them hoist a cup.

So while I don’t like the idea of disrupting the natural order of things — which is that the Leafs should stumble and miss the playoffs and always have the longest Stanley Cup drought forever and ever — the idea of some nice players beating the Bruins and maybe bringing the cup back to Canada makes it at least palatable.

So, uh…go Leafs, I guess?

UPDATE: never mind.

Also, here’s where that title comes from:

Cover photo by randy p, used under Creative Commons license

Civic duty

Back in December I got a summons. A summons for jury selection. Somehow, despite living in Toronto for almost 22 years, I’d never gotten one. But there it was, in the mail.

Weirdly, at least according to most people I knew who’d been summoned to jury selection, I was called on a Thursday. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I told my boss and booked off Thursday and Friday, thinking “Surely, it’ll be done in two days.” This past Thursday, at 9am, I reported for a jury selection panel at the courthouse on University Avenue.

As I took my seat on a hard, old bench that reminded me of the pews of my parents’ church before they added cushions, a bailiff (maybe? He referred to himself as more of a “greeter”) explained that the selection process could take five days. Eep. OK, so some rescheduling would be in order, but I’m in the lucky position of being able to manage that without being fired or neglecting a child, even if it would be a big pain in the ass.

The greeter then explained that Thursday panels are special panels, in that they’re intended to select 14 of the 280 prospective assembled jurors to serve in a much longer trial. Could be weeks, could be months. Panic gripped the room. Months? Seriously? Now I, too, was getting nervous. I have three trips booked in March, and work would get…well, completely away from me if I were stuck in a courtroom for months. Of course I want to do my civic duty, but holy smokes. Have (relative) mercy.

Eventually, the judge entered the room, thanked us for being there, and explained that the accused had plead guilty. We were free to go home, and excused from jury duty for three years. Shouts of joy, there were. A little inappropriate, given that courtrooms are meant to be somewhat more staid than that — and really, rooms away, someone had just committed to years in prison, so was our plight really so bad? — but I kind of understood. I felt relief too. But I do hope to serve on a jury one day. I know that sounds odd to most people, but as the judge that day pointed out it’s one of the few ways we as citizens are compelled (outside of paying taxes) to demonstrate our citizenship.

The next time I’m called I’ll try to remember that it’s not a burden, but rather a duty to be managed.

.:.

Cover photo by randy p, used under Creative Commons license

Forty-three

After a long week in San Francisco I just wanted some time to relax. Lindsay gave me a night. Then the birthday activities started. Pre-birthday, really, since my birthday was Monday, but who wants to celebrate their birthday on a Monday?

First up was a cozy breakfast of griddle cakes at White Lily, followed by an afternoon of beer sampling at Rorschach. It was my/our first time there, and I was pretty psyched. I had a “Syncronicity” Oolong tea & lime saison, a “Malevolent Benevolence – Turtle” pecan coffee & cocoa nib imperial stout, and a “Malevolent Benevolence – French Toast” maple syrup, cinnamon & vanilla imperial stout. All on a rooftop patio amongst trees, by a park. Pretty sweet pre-birthday afternoon, right?

For dinner that night we hit another new place: the Maple Leaf Tavern. I liked the vibe right away: very relaxed, but with a serious (read: meat-heavy) menu. We sampled heavily — to the point where multiple staff members came to our table and told us, “I like what you’re doing here.” We delved deeply:

  • When we mentioned this was my birthday celebration dinner, they brought over glasses of sparkling, which I’m guessing were the N. Pearce Ward 5 Brut Blanc, but I’m not sure.
  • They make their own sausages so we got three: French Onion, Jerk Pork, and Arabiki. Each came with a special mustard. I’d go back just for the sausages.
  • Extra bread
  • Whole Ontario Burrata w/ extra virgin canola oil, Baco Noir balsamic, and Newfoundland salt
  • A bottle of Mencia
  • 24oz tomahawk pork chop w/ rosemary apple sauce
  • 7oz Wagyu flat iron steak w/ tarragon butter
  • Honey & cumin glazed carrots w/ parsley yoghurt
  • Beets
  • A bottle of No Name Barolo

The next morning we slept in until…like, 11 or something. Crazily late for me, at any rate. When we finally got up we made our way to Eastbound for brunch where I annihilated a Bo Ssam pulled pork & kimchi sandwich. We spent most of the rest of the day chilling on the couch, ending the day drinking a bottle of Kew Vineyards 2014 Blanc de Blancs and eating a bowl of plain kettle chips.

So: bonne fête à moi, right?

Cover photo by Thomas Hawk, used under Creative Commons license

2017 Annual Report: Fallout

This write-up last year was about two big, seismic events: a hugely successful work launch in January, and my separation later in the year. There was a third event that came up so late in the year — on the day I was writing the blog post, in fact — that I couldn’t even process it. On December 28th last year my mother was diagnosed with cancer.

2017 was the year of dealing with the fallout — both good and bad — from those three events.

First, the success at work in 2016 translated into a bigger role early in 2017. It came with a pretty taxing workload, but I asked for it. Work continues to be one of the most interesting and exciting parts of my life, so too much of it is a good problem to have.

Second, the process of my separation continued, and added stress through most of the first half of the year. It involved many more lawyers and calculations than anyone could want, often right in the middle of work- and mom-related stress. It necessitated selling the condo and buying a new one, and all the pain in the ass that comes with moving, but I sold the condo at the perfect (read: craziest) time and I ended up in a real loft in a very cool new neighbourhood, where Lindsay and I live happily (when she’s not in Montreal). I’m glad the separation headache is over though.

Third, and dwarfing all that, was my mom’s fight with cancer. Luckily her health care was superb — she started treatment the same day she was diagnosed, and underwent chemotherapy and stem cell transplant procedures — and after pushing through all of that like a fucking warrior, she got news in early December that her cancer was in full remission. She’s not cured — her form of cancer can’t be cured — but it’s as good a result as can be imagined, and when I saw her this past week she was better than I’d seen her in eighteen months. Whatever else I did this year, whatever minor headaches I endured, all of the bad paled in comparison to what she went through, and none of the good could compare to when we got the news she was in remission.

So yeah, it was a challenging year. Especially the spring. I can look back at it now and say it was probably the busiest, and most stressed, I’ve ever been.

Still, I did all the usual stuff. I watched movies (34, down big from 47 the year before, probably because there was so much good TV to watch), bought new music (only 13 albums, way down from 20 the year before), and read a couple of books (2, versus three the year before). My weight went back up quite a bit, largely because I went back to working crazy hours which made it hard to eat right, but still not back to where it was a few years ago.

I did manage to escape work long enough to do a bunch of cool stuff around Toronto, like a round-the-world whisky tasting at Boxcar Social, a Le Vieux Pin wine club dinner at Canoe with T-Bone, a Japandroids concert, lots of exploration around my new neighbourhood, Bread & Circus at Inter/Access, visiting the Aquarium, seeing my friend perform at Comedy Kapow, a Raptors playoff game, the Session craft beer festival, the Vector festivalChardonnay League at Skin+Bones, TIFF, a Stars concert, two exhibitions at 8eleven gallery, a Mogwai concert, and a Rural Alberta Advantage concert.

One of my favourite parts about the new neighbourhood was getting to visit all the brand new breweries in the east end, like Eastbound, Radical Road, Godspeed, and Saulter Street. I still haven’t tried Rorschach, and with Left Field already there I’m psyched about the east end becoming like the Junction was a few years back. There were also a ton of new restaurants to explore in the new neighbourhood, like Kaboom, Peasant Table, White Lily, Bonjour Brioche, Skin + Bones, Ascari Enoteca, Mean BaoTabule, Double D’sCaribbean Sunset, the Broadview Hotel, and Lake Inez.

Obviously I tried new places elsewhere in Toronto as well, like La Carnita (the one on John Street, which we tried before the Riverside location became a mainstay), County GeneralDaishoActinoliteGusto 101Cherry Street BBQ, OMAWKing TapsGrey GardensArdoKhao San Road, and Union.

We also got out of Toronto a few times this year, to Niagara, Prince Edward County, Hockley Valley, Niagara again for Pearl-Morissette‘s 10th anniversary, and Burlington.

We also got to hang out with friends & family a fair amount, like beers with CBJ+M at Monk’s Table, with Lindsay’s friends at Sin & Redemption and Museum Tavern, a brief visit from brother #1, a longer visit from brother #2 and his lovely wife, a quarter-centennial party with Lindsay’s friends, a beautiful dinner with MLK, a boozy hangout with Mike & Heather, a visit from Lindsay’s mom, and of course lots of family time at Christmas.

Throughout the year I managed to go further afield for work (London/Stockholm/Munich, Montreal, Philadelphia, and Ottawa), and both of us got away for fun (Nova Scotia, France, Nova Scotia again at Christmas), as well as for work and fun (Lisbon). I also got to Montreal to visit Lindsay four times, in January, February, March, and April.

So yeah, the year started in a rough way, and got more and more brutal as it went on, but ultimately the fallout was that which I asked for, or which only affected me indirectly, so compared to the years that others have had to face, I really can’t complain. And now, at the end of the year I can look at my life and say that I have a great new job, I have a cool loft in a cool neighbourhood, I’m in love, and my mom beat cancer. I guess fallout makes you stronger if you can hang in there.

.:.

Cover photo by Thomas Hawk, used under Creative Commons license

Cover photo by Paul Downey, used under Creative Commons license

Leaving St. Lawrence Market

Almost ten years to the day after moving into this condo building, I’m moving out. I have a new place a few minutes east of here, in a cool new neighbourhood. I’m (almost) all packed and ready to go.

I’ve lived in two different units in this building, but I was one of the original occupants and this place definitely feels like home. Ten years is far longer than I’ve spent in any other building, apart from the family farm as a child.

But it’s time. Time for a different (smaller!) place, time to explore a new neighbourhood, and most of all: time for a change. Like our grandfather always said, a change is as good as a rest…and believe me, I could use the rest. It’s been a pretty ridiculous and stressful April.

In between packing and work and whatever else, I’ve been saying goodbye to my favourite things about the neighbourhood. The parks, the weird little alleys. The market, obviously, though I’ll be back in upcoming weekends. Fahrenheit, where I learned to love coffee. Triple A, still my favourite bbq in the city — thankfully, there’s another one near my new place. C’est What, one of my original craft beer experiences and source of so much comfort food. Batch, which took over a seemingly-cursed location but looks healthy. XO Bisous, my every-morning stop and home to the best pastries and nicest ladies ever.

Now, I’ll move to a neighbourhood with its own excellent restaurants and brewpubs and cafes and stuff. I can’t wait. I loved St. Lawrence Market, but I think I’ve done all it has to offer. It’s time for some change. It’s time for a new home.

I sure will miss this view though:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/ltdan/4760700793/sizes/l/

.:.

Cover photo by Paul Downey, used under Creative Commons license

Cover photo by Steve Lyon, used under Creative Commons license

Ye shall make you no idle

I took a vacation day yesterday. Here’s what I did, in no particular order:

  • read ~200 news feeds
  • did laundry
  • bought groceries at the market
  • got a haircut
  • did about two hours of work
  • dropped off suits for dry cleaning
  • met with my lawyer
  • bought a bunch of Christmas presents, and some bad-ass olive oil
  • went to a bank branch (not by choice, mind you)
  • practiced some french
  • took out the recycling
  • upgraded my flight to Vancouver next week
  • managed my cash flow
  • submitted some work expenses
  • watched an episode of Black Mirror and the Raptors game
  • made a list of the 100 top-rated movies of 2016 and where I could see them
  • ripped two DVDs
  • bought coffee beans
  • answered about a dozen personal emails
  • ordered more Christmas gifts online
  • ate a roast beef sandwich
  • backed up my computer
  • 70 push-ups
  • met with a stager who’s helping me sell my place
  • managed my NHL fantasy team
  • bought a new belt
  • ate 1/3 of a pizza and drank a bottle of wine
  • learned some Toronto FC songs
  • talked on the phone + Skype for almost two hours
  • watched 1/3 of 10 Cloverfield Lane

What I’ve realized in recent years is that I’m virtually incapable of being idle. I can relax — usually on vacation — but my need to feel productive is almost overwhelming, even on my days off. Keep in mind, there was lots of fun stuff happening on that list above so it’s not like it was a shift in the salt mines, but still…I’m realizing that languor is just not in my DNA.

.:.

Cover photo by Steve Lyon, used under Creative Commons license

Cover photo by tikitonite, used under Creative Commons license

How I eat now

It occurred to me today how differently I order food now. I used to call a number, have an awkward conversation with someone about how I would like to customize their menu, and then wait impatiently for food to show up somewhere between 20 and 90 minutes later.

Now I open an app like Foodora (nee Hurrier) or Uber Eats and order what I want, and then get constant status updates (or live GPS icons on maps) as my delivery progresses. Or I do what I did just now, and order something from a nearby restaurant using Ritual; by the time I walk to the restaurant the food is waiting for me and the suckers waiting in line think I have magical powers.

Of course, Uber seemed magical to people at first, and now it’s ubiquitous (at least in downtown Toronto) so this won’t stay wonderous for long, but for now it’s pretty cool. And anything that saves me even a few minutes is a tiny lifesaver these days.

Now pardon me while I destroy this Blazin’ Hawaiian burger from Big Smoke.

.:.

Cover photo by tikitonite, used under Creative Commons license

Another prime

Last year my birthday was an epic spin through Quebec, with friends and beer and Relaxios and adventure aplenty. This year we went in a different direction: we’ve both been working a lot, and just wanted to relax and prep for our upcoming trip. So we went to the market, bought a bunch of travel shit at MEC, had coffee at Quantum, and ate lunch at Wvrst. While Nellie continued shopping I skyped with some family, talked to other family on the phone, watched the nephew and nieces sing happy birthday to me on video, and had a bit of nap. (Birthdays!)

Nellie grilled some killer ribeyes for dinner, which we paired with a 2007 Fielding Cabernet Sauvignon, and we had a few bites from Soma for dessert. It could not have been more unlike last year’s extravaganza, but it was just as fine a birthday.

.:.

Cover photo by Stephen Mackenzie, used under Creative Commons license