Toronto: “The Second Coming” Day Two

September 1, 2006 on 1:31 pm | In Travels |

The great thing about this second day in Toronto wasn’t the fact that I didn’t feel exhausted when I work up, nor was it the remaining Timbits left for me to snack on: it was that I realized I was in Toronto. I left Ontario voluntarily and of my own accord, and it’s never felt right when I’ve returned to visit, but going back this time felt like a real trip…home. “Home” isn’t quite the right word, but it’s as close as I can describe it without going into a philosophical discussion about what “home” really is and if it’s even possible, so I’ll spare you the pompous crap for once. There are lots of photos on this entry! I’ve written this under unusual circumstances, so I apologize for spelling and/or grammar errors.

Oh, and now that I remember the taste of Timbits, I must remind America of something: your donuts suck.

The day began with yet another good omen: a kick ass gym in the Sheraton Centre. If you’re not a gym nut, this may all be meaningless, but they had racked dummbells up to 105lbs! Flat, incline, and decline benches! A Smith Machine! Lots of leg machines! It was a great gym and served me well each day. My only complaint was that some of the mirrors were angled forward, so my perspective was off a bit, but the workouts never really suffered.

Totally random, but on Day One, we walked buy a “$60 Toilet Rebate!” sign that made us laugh and wish we’d brought the camera. It was hilarious for the sheer oddity of seeing such a sign. Kurt just laughed at us.

Arthur (who gets all the photo credit, once again, so please leave him nice comments!) & I hit the Eaton’s Centre early, to get some breakfast (underwhelming egg sandwiches) and to expose him to the basics of Canadian shopping. It was more extensive tour than the day previous, which allowed me to show him the wonders of Indigo books, Shopper’s Drug Mart, HBC (Hudson Bay Company), the cooler Canuck’d Sears, and the overpricing of CDs in Canada. Seriously, $18 for the new Paris Hilton CD? Dude, that’s not cool. The real story of this event was not how much we enjoyed such a clean, diverse, and welcoming mall. No, it was that Arthur is a “Playa”, “Pimp”, or “International Man Of Mystery.” Take your pick. Now that all makes it sound like Arthur never had any game and that he wasn’t a cool guy before (or “pantload,” as Kurt Ingram would call a non-cool person). But the new version of Arthur, dressed to the nines and brimming with James Bond-ian confidence was macking up a storm. Women were falling over themselves to help him in every store and in the GAP, for example, he not only made a dour cashier smile when he approached her, she still had the smile on her face and stared at him till he exited!

Once we dropped off our purchases in the hotel room, we then began the trek down Queen St to Spadina (which runs perpindicular). A lot of my friends told me to take the subway because it was a long walk, which it really isn’t, and even if it had been, there’s something you learn about a city by walking through it. Not driving, not taking tours, etc…but just walking. The smells. The sounds. The way a street seamlessly changes from an area that looks rundown, to a thriving tourist area, back to just a regular part of the town. That’s the town speaking, peeling back the layers of it’s identity so that you may reflect those truths through your own paradigms, providing you with your unique view of the town. And let me tell you, with Toronto, it’s always a beautiful sight. Just when you think you love it as much as you can, you see it smile back at you, with a twinkle in its eye and it becomes even more beautiful.

I soon made my way to one of my favorite places in Toronto, the acclaimed “Silver Snail” comic book store. Now my favorite comic store of all time is “The Comic Shoppe” in Vancouver, tied with “The Mind’s Eye Comics” in Minnesota, but the ‘Snail is the first “big” comic store I ever visited. Arthur actually used to be my boss at “Mind’s Eye”, so he’s aware of comic book retailing in ways I’ll never be and looks at stores much differently than I do. I really wanted him to see this part of my childhood that I so loved and I also wanted him to just experience an important part of the Toronto comic book scene. As I hoped, Arthur loved the store and marveled at the vast array of statues, weapons, toys, comics, games, and more. Let’s start from the beginning. As you’ll see below, the store has a classy look from the outside, with some nice art and a catchy display window, followed by a nice inviting atmosphere when you walk through the front door. There’s two levels: upstairs is more of a gaming area and the main floor is about action figures and comics. The staff are all real nice and the smart thing about the store is the amount of impulse purchase items. Most comic stores don’t keep the small little doo-dads in stock anymore, for numerous reasons, but Silver Snail stocks their register are with lots of stuff you’d want. This is smart on two levels: easy impulse sales on merchandise you can’t return (most comic stores don’t do returns) and it gives the impression if you really want it, Silver Snail is the first place to check out. Because it tries to be all things to all people, ‘Snail is a lot like that cool kid you knew in high school who everyone loved, but couldn’t really tell you much about, because he was too busy being cool to so many people that no one got to know him in depth. And no, that kid wasn’t me: I was a big dork.

After we found a couple of gifts for our buddy Frank, and marveled at such a well-organized store, we checked out a few more clothing stores, as Arthur was searching for a new messenger bag. We weren’t successful, but it did allow us to visit some shops I’d never been to and generally just back in the fun of Queen St. When we hit Spadina, I forgot we needed to head North to get to the Asian shopping area (which we hit on Day 3, so we’ll discuss it later) and I instead led us South. Eh, so I screwed up. It all still worked out. We debated the relative merits of Paris Hilton after eyeing a number of her posters around town, walked into a horrible comic store (whose name I won’t list because the store doesn’t deserve to survive), and then continued the new JLA (Justice League of Arthur and/or Arune) tradition of talking in mock Canadian accents. Our conversation went something like this: “Hey Arune, eh, isn’t it a nice day, eh?” and I’d say, “Nooo, eh, don’t be such a pantload eh, cause it’s getting hot, eh” and so forth. People thought we were nuts, which may not be far from the truth when we amuse ourselves with such frequent mock-Canadian conversation. Arthur does a real convincing Canadian accent: I’ll try to get him to send me an MP3 of his “average Canadian” to load onto Arune.Com.

Heading down Spadina, we finally found The Rogers Centre (the horrible new name for the Skydome), which is home to the Toronto Blue Jays, the official Arune.Com baseball team, along with the Oakland Athletics. Why the A’s? Two reasons: as a child, I wanted to be opposite of my brother to some degree and he loved the Jays, so in my childish mind, I figured I could show my individuality by liking another team. The A’s were hot, with the bash brothers of Mack McGwire and Jose Canseco, so they were a natural pick and rival to the Blue Jays. Secondly, the Athletics’ logo has “A’s” on it, which reminded me of my initials, so the team was a natural choice. Sadly, I almost see some logic in all that…

To give you some context, my family used to take me to the Skydome a lot when we were children. A baseball game meant hotdogs, peanuts and probably a cool dinner later if it was a day game. I have no idea how I made it through so many innings without being bored, as I find baseball a bit slow these days, but I imagine it was that family time that made it so special. We were at Game 6 of the World Series in 1993, behind home plate, when the Jays won their second World Series. It was amazing. I don’t think we ever had a bad time going to a Blue Jays game. The Skydome holds a lot of good memories for me. On my list of things to do, I have one box for seeing one more baseball game with my family. My parents & I recently were able to be live at the Real Madrid exhbition soccer game over here, which was awesome for all of us, but we need to do something like that with my brother involved, for one big family sports event.

Anyway, back to Skydome. We walked around and I explained to Arthur about the sports stuff that goes on. He’s not a huge sports fan, but he is a culture buff and loved hearing about the cultural effect of the stadium and the Blue Jays (or at least pretended to). Then we came to the next moment of Arthur coolness: turning a diss into something positive. We decided to get some special kind of ice cream (not quite ice cream dots, but close) and we needed to pay with change, since it was a small amount and didn’t want to break our larger bills. So as I pay, Arthur is fidgeting around with his money and asking what his money is worth. I openly mocked him as an ignorany American tourist in front of our female cashier and so what does Arthur do? He rebounds, acting all cool and saying something (I forget the words), to make me the butt of the joke, causing this girl to make “those” eyes at him. You ever see those AXE bodyspray commercials where the men are being hunted by hungry, horny women? That’s Arthur in Toronto.

Ok, so we arrived at the CN Tower and decided not to go up, partly because of the lines and because we’d only get a “free” ride if we bought dinner at the top. Which was fine…except the main courses cost $35 each! Opportunity cost folks! So we continued to wander around, seeing the ACC (Air Canada Centre). I found a store where I bought a Blue Jays ball cap and baseball style t-shirt, which are obviously hard to find in the United States, and then just took in the sights and smells. No matter where you go in Toronto, no matter what the time, there is always something interesting. Walk down the same street, two days in a row, and you’ll see different people, different street vendors and a different facet of Toronto’s soul. Here are some photos from our travels:

The photo of Canadian Idol is funny because it’s like they had to create their own version of the American Idol cast and couldn’t do their own thing. Why not have an Indian or Chinese guy there? Another jolly black man is the best Canada can do? In the words of Rob Corddry, “Oh come on!” The fourth photo, featuring the Blue Man Group, is one we had to take because it reminded us of Arrested Development, the great comedy that Arthur persuaded me to watch years ago and it turned out to be a hilarious, addictive show. On this trip, Arthur made me (seriously, don’t piss off a little Jewish man who is a second degree black belt in tae kwon do) watch Venture Bros, an animated comedy series that spoofs Johnny Quest and similar shows. I’m not sure I quite love it yet, but I appreciate the humor and it’s a show that could grow on me. Then again, Arthur loves Scrubs and that show makes me want to beat myself senseless with a brick. Still, the guy has good taste in television shows (go Babylon 5!) and we’ve discovered a lot of cool shows together. I hate having so little text between these photo blocks, but these pictures tell the story better than I can at times. Arthur is one of my dearest friends, like a brother to me, and so when we hang out, it’s just…easy. We have our old jokes that don’t make sense unless you’re us and would likely offend you if you didn’t understand the context. And we have fun just walking around a city just chatting and checking out the scenery, from women to architecture to silly signs. I can tell about the nice rack on some girl who walked by, but does it accomplish much? Nah.

Arthur loves “candid” shots. He just randomly takes photos because, well, I generally pose the same way in every photo. Arms crossed. No smile. That’s Arune. So the photo on the right is me looking, to him, like the Incredible Hulk. I don’t see it, but it is true that you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry…

The photo on the left is of Mad Dog and Billie, two really crappy radio DJs that are shockingly still employed in Toronto. Even in high school, when I’m allowed to have crappy taste, I knew they weren’t very good. But their posters are everywhere and I guess people still like ‘em. Are there really that many great radio DJs anymore? I’m sure California has a bunch, because my friend Jonah has talked of a few (and used to be one if I remember correctly) and I’ve heard some decent ones.

We dumped our latest batch of stuff in the hotel room, picked up some Timbits (8 chocolate, 4 cherry, 4 honey cruller, and 4 of some other kind) and just relaxed. Because I led us down the wrong side of Spadina, we realized we had a lot of time and decided to hit the Hockey Hall of Fame. I’d never been there before and I was ecstatic: I’ve loved hockey since I was a kid. I used to always want to go to Montreal to see a Canadiens game. Everytime my dad brought me back the littlest thing from Montreal that had to do with the Canadiens, or just the NHL, I was ecstatic. My parents couldn’t always spend a lot, but they always bought me the best gifts. I always got really cool toys that were perfect for me. They still do!

After relaxing, we headed out the Hall of Fame and decided we should get food, lest we get too hungry before dinner and thus overeat, or in a fit of hunger, eat too much before dinner. It was an important dinner for me on that Thursday night (we’ll get to that later), so we hit another sentimental favorite: Shopsy’s. They make amazing hot dogs and have some nice little restaurants too. Good food, a little expensive, but definitely good food. Arthur & I had a couple of burgers and talked about old times. I actually showed him the table where my family & I had dinner one night after a ball game. I remember it well because we were all enjoying our food and my mom had a Seagram’s Cooler, which was odd to me, because my parents never drank a lot of alcohol. It accidentally was spilled and I felt bad because my mom was really enjoying it and she was really happy…and some stupid part of me wished I had super powers so I was fast enough to catch it. It’s just a childhood memory that stands out.

Finally. The Hockey Hall of Fame. Once again, I give Arthur credit for smiling and accompanying me to the Hall of Fame. He’s such a good sport about the stuff and does it because, well, he’s a class act. But don’t tell him I said that. So we walked around the Hall of Fame and I wanted to play the slap shot games, but the lines were long enough that I didn’t want to spend all of my time waiting in line. It’s actually a really small place, which makes it quick to explore, but it wasn’t that impressive. I’m glad I went there, but having been to the NHL All Star Luncheon years back, meeting stars and touching the Stanley Cup, it was all a bit familiar. The best part was the Montreal Canadiens replica locker room, full size so you could inside and marvel at the greatest hockey franchise there is, was, and ever will be. It was cool to sit in this room and realize that this one sport could so easily dominate a nation. Hockey Night In Canada is part of the national diet. Everyone knows Don Cherry’s voice. We all grow up reading The Hockey Sweater, a really great children’s hockey book about acceptance and fitting in with others.

We then hit the gift shop, which was fun and I found an official Canadiens game puck and a Canadiens t-shirt. There was a great selection of merchandise and while I didn’t get a window sticker like I wanted, I was impressed by the selection and decent prices. I expected more price gouging. Here’s some more photos from the Hall of Fame. I don’t want to bore you with all the details, but the pictures tell you what to expect. The cool thing about the place is that you just start breathing hockey really quickly. There’s a strong sense of history that makes it much more than a normal, unfocused Hall of Fame: it feels like a living testament to the history of Canada. Or perhaps I’m just a nut for hockey, trying to justify my love for the sport and the feeling I get being around it.

I’d also be remiss in not mentioning Arthur’s obsession with the term “washroom.” You don’t rest in a “restroom.” You don’t “bath” in most bathrooms. You wash! Damn Americans.

Wow, we did a lot on this day, eh? I was going to split this into two parts, but I figure most of you would appreciate a long post like this one. Now it’s time for dinner. To give you an idea of time, we left the hotel aroun 0930 and didn’t get back from the Hall Of Fame till 1800 at the earliest. We were on our feet all the time. We walked up and down roads for the hell of it. Back to dinner. I had arranged for dinner with two of my best friends: Jamie & Michele. I love them both dearly and haven’t seen them in years, so I was excited to see them, as well as to meet Michele’s boyfriend Neal, with whom I share many similar interests. We met up at Richtree, foremerly Movenpick, an “open choice” restaurant where you walk around and get your food freshly made, charged to a card that you pay for when you leave (the food wasn’t too good this time). It was great to see Jamie and Michele again, because even though we talk over the phone and via IM (instant messaging), there’s something special about seeing someone in person like that. Naturally, I quickly became the butt of all the jokes, but it was just nice to chat with such dear friends. Neal and I talked wrestling, which made everyone roll their eyes, but when you can debate the merits of a devestating chop from Ric Flair versus the power of Razor Ramon’s “Razor’s Edge,” you know most people won’t get it. Michele, however, paid me the biggest compliment of the trip when she said I looked like John Cena (muscles, not face). Here are some photos after the dinner:

See, this is Arthur working his “candid” photo magic again. The second shot is just an odd angle (I mean, was he hiding below me or something?) but the first one is an example of Jamie & I…being Jamie & I. When we starting talking about guys in her life, I always do the faux effeminate thing, which is why I look like that in the photo. It’s a funny picture actually and it’s starting to grow on me. After dinner, we headed back to the hotel and ate Timbits, joked around and tried to hide from Arthur’s photography. On the way, Neal and I kept trying wrestling moves on each other and I guess I need to find a picture of Neal. Here we go:

I can’t remember much of what we all discussed, but that’s not a bad thing, eh? I just laughed smiled and felt at peace. I can’t remember the last time I felt so good. There’s just some people who make you happy with their mere presence and these are those people (as are all my friends I met on this trip). Little did I know, even MORE fun was to come later in the trip. I’ll be writing all about it soon, but expect updates to be slow for the next few weeks. I should add that my dad happened to be in town, so Arthur and I got a drink with him, which was a nice change of pace.