A Midsummer Night’s Burn
Posted on August 4th, 2009 –
Phew!
What a weekend. As you’ve probably already guessed by the previous posts, I spent much of Saturday at Caribana ingesting all sorts of solar radiation, and much of Sunday recovering from heat stroke and examining the contents of my stomach. Today, I feel like a new man:
Good thing I don’t have any melanoma indicators.
The sunglasses lines on the temples are my favourite. I think all the kids will be into all sorts of interesting “lining” variants next year. That’s my word; contact me for licensing options.
As vanguard of modern fashion, I felt that I should probably start setting a good example. Yesterday, I decided Dream in High Park seemed like it would be a good fit.
If you’re not familiar with it, Dream is simply Shakespeare performed in High Park in an outdoor amphitheater. The stage is a half-shell at the bottom of a steep hill into which seating is built. The whole thing is surrounded by everything Canadian and outdoors: conifers, deciduous trees, leaf-covered earth with spurts of random vegetation, mosquitoes, black flies, and all sorts of critters eager to steal your snacks.
I’m fairly certain that the “Dream” part of the name refers to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which I assume was the first and most popular play shown here. Since this year they’re performing The Tempest, the name doesn’t make too much sense otherwise.
But all of that is a bit moot since, in keeping with my habit of being fashionably late, I completely missed the show. Next time I’ll spend less time flipping through photos of the last trip to High Park:
It’s a neat place, even without the Shakespeare. The Canadian Geese that inhabit the park rarely take inquisitive children’s fingers off nowadays, and the overcoated perverts have migrated to the ample summer streets, so it’s a pleasant place to spend a Sunday afternoon. There are also lots of cool things to stare at once that hit of acid starts to take over:
There’s a restaurant directly to this fellow’s left, up an impossibly long hill. I swear I climbed that thing for an eternity; by the time I reached this guy, it seemed plausible that I was looking into a mirror. Trippy.
I can’t say I recommend the restaurant, mostly for the geriatric cafeteria ambiance. The food looked okay. My coke was okay. Bit sweet. Damn kids never listen when you tell them not to put too much syrup in your drink. In my day, you earned money the proper way; standing outside in the sun with a camera until the stupid settled in. Kids these days pour you a drink and think they deserve a two-week vacation. Puh-leeze.
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