The Big City

After spending this past weekend in Toronto, and after having spent time in New York in my more or less recent personal history, I have to admit that large cities do have their appeal. It's something I would never have conceded, well, not that long ago.

They can be vibrant; there are certainly things happening and things to do. Walkable downtowns, a term I would have scoffed at, again, not that long ago, are enticing and entertaining. They offer stuff to do without the worry of parking, or of getting here to there in good time. I have to imagine you could keep yourself busy as well as fed and amused with a wide variety of opportunities within easy range for many weeks.

There are downsides. Perhaps it's simply because I was there most recently, but Toronto has a lot of people. A. Lot. It felt more crowded than NYC, and New York City is packed. That walkable downtown did have its own share of pedestrian traffic jams and human walls. Too, there were noticeable homeless camps, and homeless in the streets, many clearly with issues. You feel for them, but what can one person do at a given moment?

The relative calm of Detroit is more my style city wise, and even that pales compared to the laid back joy of Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula. Yet a part of me wouldn't mind living in a high rise in New York or Toronto for, oh, maybe a year, just to swim in the lifestyle of the big city for a bit.

Many Miles To Go

Technology on the whole is great. The rental car which I drove to Toronto rode smooth as silk, and the gas mileage was great. I didn't have to fill up in Canada. That was good, considering their gas prices.

Still, I needed to fill the tank before returning the car. After seeing to that chore, I of course sat back down behind the wheel and fired it up. I was immediately told that my then average miles per gallon was 10.3.

But I hadn't moved. I was still sitting there at the pump; I hadn't even put it into gear. Yet somehow I was getting a little over ten miles per gallon.

I can't figure that bit of technology out.

Overthinking

At the end of this past curling season I won a door prize of a $10 gift card for Shoppers Drug Mart. It's a Canadian drug store chain, so I would have to spend it in Canada. No big deal; I'm there often enough.

The silly thing is, I began tying myself in knots mentally about when I'd use it and what I'd buy. This was special, I was thinking. It must be used wisely. It must be spent on exactly the right thing. I was treating the card as some sort of golden ticket rather than the effective ten dollar bill which is all it really was. 

Being in Toronto (which conveniently is in Canada) this past weekend, I finally spent it. As me son Frank and I made our way about town Saturday afternoon we stumbled upon a Shoppers. We stopped in and bought a pop and a snack each, and blew the card. Why? Because I finally told myself it was stupid to 'save' it. We were thirsty and vaguely hungry. Use the card.

The really dumb part was how relieved I was afterward. It was a weight off my shoulders, a burden lifted, to actually have spent that gift card. Silliness. But how better can you use a gift than with family on a short vacation? 

I really have to stop overanalyzing.

Roger That

Rogers Centre, and from where I'm at centre is spelled correctly I assure you, is the home baseball stadium of the Toronto Blue Jays in Ontario, Canada. Me son Frank and I picked it up last night as part of our years long stadium tour. We try to attend a ball game at one new site each season.

Rogers Centre is the first retractable roof stadium, opening in 1989. The roof can be opened for good weather while closed when conditions are poor. They weren't poor yesterday but it was chilly, so it was closed.

The stadium is nice, thought it's a bit weird to see baseball indoors. As Frank remarked, baseball seems intended for the open air. Still, the sight lines were good all over, and we felt reasonably close to the action. The top level where we sat looks steeper than it is but not so much when you're actually seated.

The Jays hosted the Los Angeles Dodgers, who won 12-2. Not a pretty game for the hometown nine.

Stadium amenities were good, and prices weren't bad. Our hot dogs (you gotta have a dog at a ball game) were $6.75 each, but as Canadian money is at a discount against US funds they came out to $5.10 I think through the use of our American debit cards. My souvenir Toronto baseball cap cost $49 from a Canadian start of $67, so prices were comparable to what you would pay in the States. I choked at the $490 tag on an authentic Toronto Blue Jays jersey (Frank said I audibly gasped) but I wasn't going to buy one anyway.

The park was very clean, and felt older than it is. As I said, it opened in 1989, making it I believe the fifth oldest baseball venue in use in the major leagues. It's not the best ball yard, but I do like it. I kind of expected not to. I thought it would be a concrete and steel monster, yet it was rather homey in its own way.

Would I go back? Sure. After all, it is baseball. And I am curious to see the place with the roof open.

The Housing Market

My mailman was kind enough to deliver to me the latest bit of drivel from my local Congressional representative, who proclaimed within it that safe and affordable housing is a right. I am not enlightened.

The trouble with rights is that they imply obligations. If you have a right to something, who is obliged to fill that right? After all, if a certain nondescript fellow (whom we'll call Cloyce just to give him a name) has a right to a safe and affordable house, well, mine is safe and affordable. Do I have to give it to Cloyce?

Oh, don't be silly, Marty. Of course not.

Well, okay, then, how about the heavy machinists and the carpenters and the electricians and the heating and plumbing contractors who actually build homes? Do they have to build Cloyce a home for free? And do the folks who make the materials which go into home building have to supply the lumber and wire and ductwork and lighting gratis as well?

Come on, Marty, of course not.

Well, then, who does have come up with the house? Who owes Cloyce a safe, affordable home, since it's his right ? Who must deliver on that right? Don't say the government, because that's just a longhand way of saying me, and we've already established I don't owe Cloyce a home.

And that's the trouble when you begin bandying about rights. If you aren't ready and willing to talk rationally about obligations as well, Congressional representative, you're just blowing smoke. 

I Don't Get It

I'm going to be him: I'm going to be that guy. I don't care. I think it has to be said.

Have we become such party animals that so mundane a trifle as a sports draft is literally tying our streets in knots? The NFL, the National Football League to you who don't know (and I have been surprised by the number of folks who don't know and, thankfully, don't care; there is hope for the world), is holding its player draft in Detroit this week. And the city is teeming with visitors and all sorts of temporary construction is happening and streets are being closed...so teams can choose who can play for them?

To begin with, and I mean this quite seriously, why a draft of players? Why can't they select who they want to have a catch with? Isn't it some form of involuntary servitude to say that if you want to play with us you have to play with who we (those in power) say you have to play for? I'm willing to argue that there's a real moral wrong at work here.

Then there's all the stuff and nonsense surrounding the thing. I get it, to a point, anyway, when sportsball is happening, a Super Bowl or what not. But we're not even talking about an actual game or event here. We're talking about, at best, an eenie, meenie, minee, moe: who picks who first and so on. It's inane, and I mean that quite seriously too, to force all this hullaballoo on a community for such ultimately meaningless drivel. 

When bread and circuses have devolved to this point, friends, I have to honestly wonder whether our national priorities are anywhere near right. Yet judging by the recent history of these United States, perhaps this is a symptom of a greater disease.

Truly Sublime

Here I am, touting my own writing. How gauche, but my blog, my rules.

Still, here's a cool review of my 'memoir' The Sublime to the Ridiculous

Kidding aside, it's pretty much what I intended about the collection. It's available here: STTR

Kindle only just yet, but I hope to have a print edition ready soon!