Paul Newman tells the story of two young actors who meet on a movie set: one says to the other, "boy did I meet a girl last night. It was terrific, best date I ever had." Twenty years later they meet again: "boy, did I have a meal last night night. It was incredible. Best meal I ever had." Twenty years later they meet again:"boy, did I have a bowel movement last night..."
I think I'm at the middle stage; apparently, it's all about the food right now.
Yesterday was Jackie's birthday and we went to Terroni's for pizza. What can I say? It's Terroni's, it's pizza, end of story.
I'm still inside, paying; they're outside, smoking.
I'm just so lazy, I absolutely love it when stuff comes to me. This weekend is the Italian Festival which shuts down College St. just minutes from my house. Earlier in the year we had "Taste of (Little) Italy", now this; and If Italy makes it to any soccer finals they'll shut it down again. There was food of course, tastings from the bazillion restaurants that make up the strip between Bathurst and Ossington, as well as games for the kids, and games for the grownups.
And there was music, some of it good, all of it loud.
And what would an Italian Festival be without sushi?
or martinis or accordians
or lamb or risotto in Parmigiano-Reggiano bowls or nuns
I've seen big flags before, always in the US, but this may be the biggest Canadian flag in Canada.
It flies above the parking lot of the brand spankin' new (on the site of the old Knob Hills) T & T Supermarket on Cherry Street, right across the road from the Cirque de Soleil tents.
This is an Asian foods market that I'd heard about and always wanted to visit but it was located in the depths of Scarborough or something so I wasn't in any hurry to get there. I thought next time I'm out that way...
However, yesterday's paper had an article about the new downtown store just opening and I thought, wait a minute, I live downtown, and I'm going to be out that way, so...
It's a beautiful store. I'm such an adventures-in-retail junkie that I can happily wander through a store looking at displays and the ways the owners choose to merchandise their wares.
Live fish, lobsters, and crabs; great hot take out; and the usual grocery items as well as shelves and shelves of stuff you really won't see at your local shops.
And while there, I bumped into Marty Gallin (of Marty & Avrum) doing his shopping and we both had the same complaint: not enough translation of the products' descriptions.
He makes his living talking about food and wanted to try a bunch of stuff but was too tired of having to wade through the product ingredient list to try to figure what some of the foods were. The lists are in English but the labels often are not.
Me? I just looked at the pretty pictures on the cans; but then, my shopping basket was empty and his was full.
It's small world. But I wouldn't want to paint it. Steven Wright
I'd had a motorcycle accident during high school. When I say motorcycle I'm being romantically generous. I was riding pillion on the back of a Honda 60 after cutting class to go hang out in Yorkville and was returning home in rush hour traffic doing a heady 10 mph when the Honda was clipped by a car making a dodgy left turn.
My friend Lynne Milgram would chauffeur my invalid self around, squeezing my ankle to thigh cast into the shotgun seat of her father's Buick and we'd hang out in Yorkville, being cool during the beginnings of the hippy folk era, sitting on stoops, watching people walk by.
If you look carefully, you can see my film debut in the NFB film Flowers on a One Way Street some of which was shot from my window overlooking Yorkville Ave.
But the insurance settlement from the accident didn't come through till after P and I were married a couple of years later. We now had a little money and big choice: put down a down payment on a house or go to Europe for a year. We were living in my room on Yorkville and a house in the area would have cost $20-30K. (Many of them are now in the $2 Mil range).
Oh, well.
When we returned from our innocence abroad, we moved into a house that Lynne had rented near the Ontario College of Art and shared roof and expenses with a varied group of other delinquents mostly art students or actors.
Lynne soon took off for Europe and Asia and other people moved in. One or two nutty nut-bars over the next four years, but mostly a pretty good and talented bunch like Barbara Astman and David Powell and Paul Harnett.
Some years later we did buy a house a few blocks away and one of our neighbours was artist and illustrator Barbara Klunder. She threw great parties. Still does.
The reviews have said wickedly funny, and while she's been published before as illustrator, this is her first solo book. We were happy to be there and toast her success. Klunder's friend, Paul Harnett dropped by. Small world.
Lynne was there too. Just back from England and LA on the red-eye from her own book launch. She's an anthropologist and OCAD prof and knows just about everybody in the entire world. Also she's married to gallery owner David Kaye. Small world.
All worlds are small worlds aren't they? Art worlds especially.
I still wouldn't want to paint them. But I know people who would.
Ellen seems to have her own private entrance to the Baths
the grownups.
or martinis
or lamb
or nuns
or conga drums ?
We now had a little money and big choice: put down a down payment on a house or go to Europe for a year. We were living in my room on Yorkville and a house in the area would have cost $20-30K. (Many of them are now in the $2 Mil range).
Some years later we did buy a house a few blocks away and one of our neighbours was artist and illustrator Barbara Klunder. She threw great parties. Still does.
Other Goose: Recycled Rhymes for Our Fragile Times,
Lynne was there too. Just back from England and LA on the red-eye from her own book launch. She's an anthropologist and OCAD prof and knows just about everybody in the entire world. Also she's married to gallery owner David Kaye. Small world.
Seen at the Vaughn Mills Mall: a bank of strollers for your convenience.
