"There's only two things that frighten me man - Dr. Evil and Carnies." (Austin Powers).
After a couple of days of sheer Toronto International Film Festival induced madness, I did my yearly sojourn to my dear friends Brian & Lynda's place in the far wilds of Northern Ontario. They are located (from what I can gather) just west of the Laurentians, and apparently just south of the Arctic circle, while at the same time firmly ensconced on the far western fringes of the Canadian Shield. This, according to my calculations puts them somewhere in the vicinity of Gimli, Manitoba.
I love going up there though. Each time I rent a car for the drive, Brian (probably subconsciously) gives me directions to drive these beautiful secondary highways, rather than the huge traffic clogged expressways, and I'll tell you - that young Man has it going on with his directions. Having lived out on the West Coast for the better part of 17 years now, I'm pretty familiar with the lay of the land, and I do love it out here. But, maybe I've got a wandering eye, and sometimes I'm looking at more than what the west coast can offer me, even with all her womanly charms. I think that sometimes Northern Ontario is the girl you want to marry, but the West Coast is the girl you meet in the bar. Who knows? All I can tell you that I've got a wandering eye - but come winter, I'll probably be changing my tune, and thanking the Gods that I live in Vancouver where no-one has had a heart attack shoveling rain.
In Ontario in the fall, Brian's directions always take me through these rolling hills so I can zoom past full, lush fields of ripe corn, through these delightful little hamlets that are full of antique stores, (Complete with angle parking on the main streets, 'natch), wineries, and so much quaintness that quite frankly, makes me want to puke. Finally I arrive at his place to be welcomed with open arms, a fridge full of cocktails, and the best barbequing that I've ever been privileged to attend. This weekend was no different.
We wound up going to a tiny, lovely village called Uxbridge a few minutes outside of Brian's tiny, lovely village, and there was the massive, booming town fair going on. When I say massive & booming - I really mean the whole fair covered about 300 square yards - complete with Carnies. So with his neighbors, we took the kids, and watched as they got jacked up on cotton candy and went on the rides. There was no beer gardens though, because apparently there was some alcohol + knucklehead induced malfeasance last year - so they put an end to that right smartly. Bastards. So We walked around, laughed, watched the kids do their thing on the Strawberry Ride and the Mini Train Ride, mocked & got frightened by the Carnies, then we went back to Brian's place for a huge dinner, a huge amount of red wine, a guitar thing, a firepit, a hot tub, and a fair amount of debauchery.
All in all, it was a pretty great day. I love going out there. I even bought a cool cowboy hat to try & fit in. (It didn't work though - I was still pegged as "City Folk").
The next morning, I did the usual get the hell out of bed / jump into the car / make the mad dash to the airport / dump off the rental car / just make the plane and fly home thing. I arrived back to the West coast on a hot Sunday afternoon. It took a while to get home from the airport as there was traffic everywhere, so I rolled the windows down, and took the slow drive down past the beach at English Bay. I watched the people stroll on the packed beach, past the huge trees, watched the magic-hour sun paint them and everything else with subtle shades of green & gold, and finally made it to my door. I walked in, and after days of meetings, miles of walking, late nights and early mornings, I dropped my suitcase on the floor, stripped out of my travel stained clothes, and walked around my empty apartment.
After a couple of days of sheer Toronto International Film Festival induced madness, I did my yearly sojourn to my dear friends Brian & Lynda's place in the far wilds of Northern Ontario. They are located (from what I can gather) just west of the Laurentians, and apparently just south of the Arctic circle, while at the same time firmly ensconced on the far western fringes of the Canadian Shield. This, according to my calculations puts them somewhere in the vicinity of Gimli, Manitoba.
I love going up there though. Each time I rent a car for the drive, Brian (probably subconsciously) gives me directions to drive these beautiful secondary highways, rather than the huge traffic clogged expressways, and I'll tell you - that young Man has it going on with his directions. Having lived out on the West Coast for the better part of 17 years now, I'm pretty familiar with the lay of the land, and I do love it out here. But, maybe I've got a wandering eye, and sometimes I'm looking at more than what the west coast can offer me, even with all her womanly charms. I think that sometimes Northern Ontario is the girl you want to marry, but the West Coast is the girl you meet in the bar. Who knows? All I can tell you that I've got a wandering eye - but come winter, I'll probably be changing my tune, and thanking the Gods that I live in Vancouver where no-one has had a heart attack shoveling rain.
In Ontario in the fall, Brian's directions always take me through these rolling hills so I can zoom past full, lush fields of ripe corn, through these delightful little hamlets that are full of antique stores, (Complete with angle parking on the main streets, 'natch), wineries, and so much quaintness that quite frankly, makes me want to puke. Finally I arrive at his place to be welcomed with open arms, a fridge full of cocktails, and the best barbequing that I've ever been privileged to attend. This weekend was no different.
We wound up going to a tiny, lovely village called Uxbridge a few minutes outside of Brian's tiny, lovely village, and there was the massive, booming town fair going on. When I say massive & booming - I really mean the whole fair covered about 300 square yards - complete with Carnies. So with his neighbors, we took the kids, and watched as they got jacked up on cotton candy and went on the rides. There was no beer gardens though, because apparently there was some alcohol + knucklehead induced malfeasance last year - so they put an end to that right smartly. Bastards. So We walked around, laughed, watched the kids do their thing on the Strawberry Ride and the Mini Train Ride, mocked & got frightened by the Carnies, then we went back to Brian's place for a huge dinner, a huge amount of red wine, a guitar thing, a firepit, a hot tub, and a fair amount of debauchery.
All in all, it was a pretty great day. I love going out there. I even bought a cool cowboy hat to try & fit in. (It didn't work though - I was still pegged as "City Folk").
The next morning, I did the usual get the hell out of bed / jump into the car / make the mad dash to the airport / dump off the rental car / just make the plane and fly home thing. I arrived back to the West coast on a hot Sunday afternoon. It took a while to get home from the airport as there was traffic everywhere, so I rolled the windows down, and took the slow drive down past the beach at English Bay. I watched the people stroll on the packed beach, past the huge trees, watched the magic-hour sun paint them and everything else with subtle shades of green & gold, and finally made it to my door. I walked in, and after days of meetings, miles of walking, late nights and early mornings, I dropped my suitcase on the floor, stripped out of my travel stained clothes, and walked around my empty apartment.
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