Today's Toronto Moment

Today was a beautiful, spring-like day and I took advantage of the nice weather to go for a walk at lunch. I work in the Eaton Centre, so I walked down Bay Street to see what was going on at Nathan Phillips Square. You see, this is the 175th anniversary of the founding of Toronto and they were kicking off the celebrations today.

It was an interesting tableau -- there was a school choir on the stage, people sitting listening, and a surprisingly large number of people skating on the artificial rink. I am sure that if I had gotten close enough to the stage I might have even seen the current mayor, David Miller, or an actor portraying the first mayor of Toronto, William Lyon Mackenzie.

The thing which stood out for me, though, was almost lost in the activity of the busy city street. As I walked up Bay Street, I heard the faint sound of someone playing Land of the Silver Birch on a glockenspiel. Somehow, it seemed totally appropriate for the moment.

The Devil Is In The Details

I got off the subway this morning and walked past a group of construction workers who were smoking and drinking coffee outside of their work site. The youngest of the group was wearing a t-shirt with the large, yellow initials "F.B.I." on the chest, in imitation of the police services apparel that one sees in movies and on television shows.

I've seen "F.B.I." shirts before, but there was a slight twist to this one. Usually they declare the wearer to be a "Female Body Inspector", but this shirt proclaimed to the world that he was a "Feminine Body Inspector". The funny thing was that he did not look particularly feminine. In fact, he looked as butch as any of the other construction workers.

The Great Transit Strike of Aught Eight

Well, the TTC strike is over. The provincial legislation met yesterday and unanimously passed back to work legislation. Service resumed late yesterday afternoon and today's commute was uneventful.

I suppose it is all over except for the game of trying to figure out why the transit union voted against a deal that gave them a decent increase, more benefits, and which (in the words of a TTC spokesman) did not ask any concessions.

Strike Out!

The news has just reported that the transit union has rejected the tentative deal reached earlier in the week. To make matters worse, they are striking effective midnight.

For the past couple of weeks the union had been talking big about how they would give the public 48 hours notice before starting the strike. Tonight, however, they have justified reducing this notice to 2 hours by blaming the public.

According to union leader Bob Kinnear, "We have assessed the situation and decided that we will not expose our members of the dangers of assaults from angry and irrational members of the public". It seems that members of the transit union had seen an increase in threats and abuse from passengers.

What Kinnear didn't mention how unprofessional his union members have been acting. Every day I take the subway and every day I pass TTC employees "manning" the entrance to the platform. In the morning, I am greeted by employees slouching and yawning in the seat. (Not that they even bother to show up some days.) In the evening, I walk past employees who are either busy chatting with their friends or slouching in the seat. I have heard the line about what happens to a person's attitude when you put a person in uniform, but I never assumed that it applied to the burgundy suit of TTC ticket collectors.

And don't get me started on the snotty, condescending tone the subway car operators use when addressing customers getting on and off the trains at Bloor. Here's a newsflash, idiots -- using a sarcastic tone to tell us what we already know is not going to earn our cooperation. And threatening to keep the train at the station until you get your way (which I actually heard one operator say this past week) is certainly not going to gain our respect. Nor, for that matter, will the rudeness that TTC employees show to people who do not speak English as a first language.

Now, I am in favour of people getting decent wages. However, I am also in favour of people bringing something to the table, especially when discussing a new agreement. The reportage on the negotiations concentrated entirely on what the union wanted from the TTC; it never mentioned what the union was going to bring to the table. (And that bullshit public relations campaign claiming that each TTC employee was worth a million dollars to the city's economy does not count. It proves that the union is as adept at manipulating statistics as any government organization, but it does not count as anything more than that.)

Maybe if the transit union started thinking about its customers rather than just mouthing platitudes about them, we wouldn't be so bothered by the fact that unskilled, unprofessional people with bad attitudes are upset with wages that are higher than a good many of the people who ride the TTC.

Another Sign of the Season

I was on my way to a much delayed dental check up earlier today when I came upon another sign of the changing seasons. A number of students were moving out the Ryerson University student residences.

Some of the students congregated in groups whose main purpose appeared to be to hug each other. Others were trying to balance the conflicting demands of moving their possessions out of their rooms while not been overly embarrassed by the parents who were there to help them move. There was even one brave lass whose approach to moving was to carry as much in her arms as she could and to pray that her forward momentum would carry her all the way down the street to her car.

It brought back memories of my own university days and it was as much a sign of spring's arrival as the open roof of the Skydome.

Commuter of the Day

It was raining today when I got out of the subway station. As might be expected, a lot of people opened up umbrellas as soon as they got to street level. One commuter in particular caught my eye -- where all the others had black or grey umbrellas, hers was a light pumpkin colour.

Friday Evening, Dundas Square

Today's Concert Calendar

I almost think that I should rename this blog "The Street Musicians of Toronto", given the fact that I have written so much about buskers lately. Having said that, the most interesting part of my day involved not one but two musical acts.

The first was a group of five young Asian musicians playing near the King Street subway station. They were playing a forgettable medley of schmaltzy pop tunes, but there was something different about them that made me pay attention. Maybe it was the fact that the drummer had a suitcase in front of her snare drum. Maybe it was the languid manner in which the electric guitarist contributed to the melody line. Maybe it was the fact that the dominant instrument was the flute.

The second act -- and the one I actually gave some money to -- was an old black man playing saxophone at Sheppard Station. The upper level of the station is incredibly roomy, and the melancholic sounds expanded to fill the space. He played the most beautiful version of I Had The Craziest Dream that I have ever heard.

I can hardly wait to discover what kind of musicians haunt the streets of Hog Town tomorrow.

Piper at the Gates of Dusk

I was walking down Yonge Street after work heading to the subway station. A man in full highlander regalia was playing the bagpipes in front of the Eaton Centre, a slightly different twist on the traditional busker.

I say "slightly different" because one of the coolest aspects of Toronto life is the international flavour of the buskers. I have heard Caribbean steel drum bands, eastern Europe balalaika players, south Asian sitar musicians, Andean guitar-and-pan-flute ensembles, and reggae musicans on the streets of Toronto. And that is just the musicians who readily come to mind.

Random Beauty

I was getting ready to leave work today when I happened to look out the window towards the west. I am glad I did, because I saw an absolutely beautiful sunset. The blues and purples and pinks of the skies were framed by tall office buildings, and the centre piece of the whole vista was the spire of a church that rose between the towers.

Today's Commuter of Note

One of the things I like about taking public transit is the interesting range of people one sees. For example, I caught the subway at Queen Street station after work today. Although I was lucky enough to get a seat, a young man who got on at Dundas station was not so fortunate. He had to stand until a seat was freed up at York Mills.

If called upon to provide a detailed description the best I would be able to come up with is young guy, probably in his early twenties, dark medium length hair, and a bit shorter than me. No visible scars or tattoos, no distinguishing features, no unique clothing. In many ways he was the sort of anonymous commuter that fills the seats on the subways.

Well, he would have been anonymous except for one small fact -- he was carrying an accordion on his chest. I have no idea why he was carrying the accordion. Perhaps he was a busker. Possibly he was a member of an accordion marching band on his way to practice. Maybe he was on his way to or from accordion lessons. The possibilities seem boundless.

I suppose I could have asked him about the instrument, but in the end it doesn't really matter. It is enough that he was there, sitting on a busy subway car, resting an accordion on his chest. It's a sight you don't see in the suburbs.

New Job, New Perspective

I started a new job three weeks ago. Unlike my previous job, this job is deep in the heart of downtown Toronto. In other words, my ten minute walk to work has been replaced with a commute that is at least 90 minutes. Each way.

Some people might not think I made the right decision taking a job in the city. For a lot of people, the dream is to move out of the suburbs and find a good-paying job close to home. I guess I'm not like most people, though, because I have been dying to move back into the city for years.

I like the hustle and bustle of the city. I like the feel of downtown Toronto. I like the interesting mix of people I see every day. I like taking public transit. I even like being part of the crowd that waits on the subway platform during rush hour.

There is a beauty that is unique to cities. You walk down a street and look up, only to find yourself in a canyon of sky scrapers. You turn a corner and find yourself in a sea of people. You emerge from the subway station and hear the sound of street musicians playing salsa music on the corner.

It is early days still, but I am happy with my decision.