The Royal York

I think it’s fair to say that I have a bit of a fascination with the Toronto of the late 1970′s and early 1980′s. It may be because as a child growing aware that my world extends beyond the newly built shopping mall in East Saint John, there seemed a realisation that things in this country tended to gravitate toward Toronto.

The shows I watched on our two channels mostly originated from – there until we got cable and American TV. That confused me initially – (“I thought our prime minister was Pierre Trudeau. Who’s this Jimmy Carter guy?”). On CTV’s horrible sketch comedy show, Bizarre, or perhaps it was the game show Definition, there used to be a voice-over at the end of the show which said something to the effect of “When in Toronto, guests of Bizarre stay at the luxurious Royal York. Cars used on the show provided by Tilden Rent-a-Car, featuring the all new Chevy Cavalier. In Canada, it’s Tilden!”

The Royal York, to me, was as Toronto as it got. Later in the 80′s, as a long forgotten TV channel devoted to rock videos called MuchMusic came on the scene, the picture became more broad. They had a subway, as shown by the Spoons’ “Romantic Traffic” video. On CBC’s Street Legal, if you crossed Cynthia Dale, you’d find yourself on the business end of her shoulder pads. Clearly, this was a city of some importance.

Someday, I thought to myself, I’m going to stay at that hotel. Perhaps when I’m performing my stand-up routine on the Don Harron Show. I never did become a famous-in-Canada stand-up comedian, which is good because I don’t think my late-in-life shyness could have dealt with celebrity. But thanks to cheap, nonrefundable internet rates, we’re staying at the Royal York next month.

We’re attending the British Isles Show, where we’ll meet up with some folks for that other blog I write for, as well as, hopefully, Antony Cotton and Katherine Kelly, two actors who appear on the The Greatest Television Programme of All Time.

The trip is really an excuse to meet up with friends (and stock up on Hob Nobs) and see a bit of the city. I may be that rare Montrealer who genuinely likes Toronto as I always have a great time when I’m there. Besides, that whole Montreal vs. Toronto thing is so played out, I’d like to think. But then, I’m not a native Montrealer or a native of any big city. I just like visiting cities.

The weekend is also our annual chance to be really, really, really anglo.

Here Now The News

Our Top Story

Last night, possibly spurred by last night’s discovery of my old community college diploma in radio journalism, I had a dream in which I became a freelance reporter for the CBC, specialising in the Montreal arts and culture scene. 

However, because I graduated in 1992, my technical skills were out of date. While younger, hipper, better-looking reporters rushed around me with their MacBooks, I was trying to find a shoulder strap for the portable reel-to-reel tape recorder that I found in the CBC’s basement. I was an ace tape editor back in the day.

Apparently, all of CBC’s arts reporters were competing with each other so we were all sent to a media event where some unidentified artist was making an announcement of some kind. When I arrived, the younger reporters started saying how they admired my retro style but I couldn’t persuade them that this was the only way I knew how to report (because cassette tapes hadn’t occurred to me). 

Sometimes it’s good to change a career but sometimes it’s good to stay where you know what you’re doing. 

And in other news

Watched a little of the Junos last night. Still not sure why Russell Peters has become as huge as he is. He’s funny for about two minutes and I liked his little Bollywood dance entrance but then he repeats these jokes for an hour: “I ate French fries for lunch today which is funny, because I’m Indian.”

Still Other News

Attention Dorval Residents:

Dropping off your busted-ass TV set at the local recycling bins is NOT recycling. And probably not legal.

And Finally

The Youngling has bronchiolitus and his mum has sinusitus although both seem to be on the mend. But if you’re lucky, Toronto, we’ll be bringing these exciting viruses to your town this Friday. We’ll be hooking up with some old friends and celebrating all things British. And drinking beer.

Except for the Youngling.

He likes whisky.

Journey to Upper Canada

Upper Canada is one of those places that I truly only know through the novels of Robertson Davies, this colony’s greatest WASP authority. If you need to know anything about upper-class English-Canadians living between Cornwall and Toronto (inclusive), this is the man you need to reference. Last weekend, my goode ladywyfe and I decided to make the trek, by motor-car, to this storied land.

We drove ourselves because the servants refused to drive in last Friday’s storm. We loaded up the motor car with our bags and steamer trunks and headed out. The staff held onto rosaries and crossed-themselves and engaged in other such unfortunate Papist activities but as we drove through the snow, their faces formed a most inscrutable beatific expression.

We picked up a passenger, an engaging young woman who works in the periodical industry. Curiously, she seemed uninterested in my pitch for a magazine for the sophisticated urban monocle enthusiast. Still, she held our attention with her most amusing stories and little dances. Like us, she is, as the commoners say, “slumming it” in Lower Canada.

The blinding blizzard quite predictably cleared up once we crossed the border into Ontario where we discovered that, unlike their Québec counterparts, Upper Canadians plow their highways. Novel concept, indeed.

Baldwin

V. wears a Guy Fawkes mask. I prefer to cloak my identity behind the visage of a certain Weatherfield dwelling Cockney underwear manufacturer.

And Procrasto, ever the fan of the Mike and Ken fisticuffs, this is for you:

Enjoy Scotland!

1970′s CBC Zen

Over at the other blog (‘Brilliant,’ raves The Guardian), there is a discussion on the best and the worst of Canadian TV.

So I went out and found this which is for my friend Dan in Toronto, who sometimes lurks on this site: