Stranger in a Strange Land

Uh oh. Buildings, cars, people!!
It's Friday, and 24 hours ago I was on my way to the city for the evening. Yes, I ventured into the big city. I sat in slow moving traffic for half an hour. I had a very bad chest pain. I braved the horrid suburbs of North York- the highrise apartment buildings and ugly square houses with their backsides up against the roadside fence. I found the right parking lot and found Jethro just as he pulled in with his Jetta.

We parked the truck and continued on into the heart of Toronto, with me twitching in the passenger seat.

We're just not city people. Even if I did feel totally comfortable dealing with all the traffic, I'd still make him drive, because I'd be too busy gawking. Just rubbernecking like a total yokel.

We lived in North York for a couple of years and I hated it. We had a nice place to live on a nice street with a nice little yard and a nice plaza across the boulevard and I hated it. I have never lived downtown but I think sometimes if I had to choose, North York or Toronto, suburbs or city, I'd take the city. I know. You're shocked. Me too. But the thing is...the city may be stinky and noisy and crowded, but at least it's interesting.

There are funky clothing shops right beside filthy little dollar stores. Clubs, restaurants with different languages on their signs, stuff you'd never see anywhere else, old decrepit buildings, old buildings that have been polished and retrofitted and jazzed up, storefronts with crazy modern art stuck to it, all thrown in together in a chaotic vibrant mess. I get the skin crawlies very quickly in the city but it sure is interesting for an hour or two!

Our destination was Roy Thompson Hall, which looks like a cake made of mirrors. It was a pain to get there. When we finally found the place, we had two minutes to park and get in. Anybody who's tried to park in downtown Toronto will know that it can't be done in two minutes. "You get out and get our tickets from the box office, and I'll meet you there after I park the car."

I hate it when it goes that way! I still had a chest pain from the drive halfway to there, and like, there were...other people all over the sidewalk...and like, I had to walk past other people to get to the door. Who are all these people? What the hell are they all doing here?

But I did it. I got out and strutted to across the paving stones in my high heels and pretended I knew exactly where I was going.

I'd forgotten, however, about some of Toronto's unique distractions.

I heard a guitar. Oh nice, I thought, somebody's playing guitar. And whoever it is, is quite good. So I turned my head in the direction it was coming from...and isn't the damn guy standing there on the corner, playing guitar with a paper bag on his head with holes cut in it for eyes.

Here are the thoughts that ran through my head:

Cool! Buddy's playing guitar with a bag on his head. Kinda like the Unknown Comic.

Um...that guy's playing guitar on the corner with a bag on his head.

Like, is this a normal city person thing?

Quick, look away! None of the city people are looking! Pretend you're too cool to notice! Don't gawk like a hick!

A homeless person on the sidewalk! Should I give him anything? I don't have anything. No I shouldn't give him anything, he should get a job! But what if he's mentally ill and can't work? What if that happens to me? Wait- I think he's a woman. I can't tell.

All of the city people are ignoring him! Don't gawk like a hick!

But I AM A HICK!!

I get into the building and I'm surrounded by very elegant fancy people. It's Thursday, and these people look like they're dressed to go to a wedding. Are they crazy? Who dresses up like this on a weeknight?

I have a limited range of dressed up clothing options. It's either slob clothes, or this.

Last night I wore my favourite high heeled black boots, my black and white flowery skirt, and a pink gingham shirt with pearly buttons over a pink T shirt. I also had a pink scarf tied like a necklace, because I couldn't find a real necklace to wear. I was happy enough in that outfit but geez. Underdressed.

Finally Jethro joins me and the show's just getting started. Roy Thompson Hall is covered in cream coloured softness and chrome. There are expensive cars behind glass in the lobby. A man in a bow tie escorted us to our seats in a pause between songs. What the heck were we doing there?

We were there to see Sophie Milman, an awesome young jazz singer that Jethro had the pleasure of working with earlier this year.





I can't say that I get jazz. I'm just not phosisticated enough. But I appreciate talent and hard work. Sophie is all of that, plus she's incredibly beautiful. She knows what to wear, how to stand, when to step away from the mic to let a soloist do his thang.

Oddly, Jethro's done a huge amount of jazz. He started out doing rock bands twenty years ago as a teenager, but now he's known for making very arty records sound awesome. He's done VERY WELL working with with female vocalists, especially...

the incredible, electrifying (watch out for her) Serena Ryder...



and the wonderful, amazing, gorgeous Queen of Vibe, whom I adore, Molly Johnson.



When I finally get to meet these awesome women, they always run up and enfold me in a hug, because they feel like they already know me.

After the gig we made our way to a bar for a little afterparty. We got drinks, munchies, drinks, hugs, laughs, and drinks.

Both of our kids were sleeping over at a friend's house. We closed the party down at 2 am and limped home at 3.

Good times.

Of course, this morning we had to go find my truck in the land of wide streets and strip malls. And then I had to brave the highway again to get it home. But it's okay. I lived. And I don't have to do it everyday.