Wednesday mornings are always a bit tenuous, aren’t they? Technically they’re at the foot of the hump, but you still have a few hours just to get there. Only then you can start the countdown, and the drinking really can’t even properly start until much later. Wednesday mornings are the stale farts of the week.

Luckily, there are always a few interesting things that I pass on my way to the next eight hours of numbing anguish – things that punctuate the doom as if to suggest that, maybe, there is hope. There’s the very real possibility that I’m simply reading too much into them, but I need all the straws I can grasp onto these days. Especially on Wednesday mornings.

On this particular mid-week sulk I trudged up behind Cam Woolley who, along with his CP24 cameraman, were making googly eyes at Maple Leaf Gardens across the street:

They were there to do a report on the deal that the Loblaw supermarket chain and Ryerson University made to finally do something with the Gardens. The place has been on ice for years, and aside from a TV show that was shot there, it really only served as cover for a late-night whiz. With a shot of cash from the feds, Ryerson’s going to make the place into an athletics building (the campus is made up mostly of acquired buildings downtown), and Loblaw’s going to stick a supermarket in there. Big shock on that one.

Despite being an atypically traitorous Canuck who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about hockey, I will once again go on record as saying that this is a travesty. As a Ryerson sports hall, the Gardens building is fine, but as a supermarket … jeez, eh? The thing was built in the style of a Depression era nuclear war bunker. It’s designed for large, rowdy crowds with boozy cognition. The building even had a bowling alley somewhere on the upper level when it was first built – during those days people loved to roll their great big balls around while watching the boys work their sticks below. Ahh, the thirties. So the building can withstand a beating, but it ain’t pretty:

That feeling of being entombed in concrete will certainly give the grocery store an ambiance. And the urine, the beery urine, that’s still embedded in the crevices of every darkened corner of the building. I wouldn’t like to have that nearby as I test melons.

But hey, maybe they’ll make it work somehow; beer carts and such. A tipple for the little ones and shopping’s a-okay again. And perhaps, once a thriftapenny always a sober jerk, as the old saying goes, so I think the idea has some merit. Why would they make up a saying like that if it was wrong or meaningless?

I kept mulling over the possibilities as I walked past the Gardens and down into Carlton Station. There was a notice bearing some bad news in the vicinity but this, dear reader, I’ll have to share another time because Wednesday’s just a little too incongruous already to toss that into the mix. There are better coping days.

I simply continued on to the ticket booth.

“Ten tokens please.”

“All out.”

“Really? I could buy less, I just need a few.”

“Really, all out. We have tickets though.”

“Paper tickets?”

“Paper tickets.”

Holy shit :D I hadn’t held a paper TTC ticket in my sweaty hand since I was in high school. They were smaller then and had a different motif, but the obvious ease with which they could be reproduced made them targets for amateur counterfeiters. Or aspiring amateur counterfeiters. And then I discovered these things’ll be valid until the beginning of next year — all the makings of a scheme! :)

Okay, Wednesday, it’s a good start. But we gotta do something about that hump, it’s just unsightly.

With everyone and their dog belly-aching about a lack of money, the global recession, etc., I guess it’s not surprising that the Toronto Transit Commission should be next at the public trough with hat in hand. Too bad they didn’t realize how poorly matched those two metaphors are; like all bleeding-from-every-orifice municipal group these days, they got the hand in the face.

And they kinda did it to themselves.

I know that I spend a good chunk of my time despairing over the future of transit, especially now that I’ve contracted a rather nasty strain of lazy and the cold outside has settled in for the season. But I had a chance to ride the regional rails during a visit with my financial guy, and all those awful, tearful memories of the daily GO train commute came flooding back.

I’m not referring to the actual trains themselves; those are fairly modern, quiet, comfortable, and if you can get a seat, a nice way to travel. Each car has a toilet for when your business just can’t wait, electrical outlets for when the feature-length porn flick starts to eat into your laptop’s battery, and getting carted around in a heated space is also very nice when the snow starts to fall.

The problem I’m talking about is one of simple math. For GO people, the cost of a monthly pass to one of the regional stops (the only real reason to take GO), can actually be more expensive than driving a car. For example, my pass used to set me back around $230. That didn’t include the follow-up hop onto the TTC at Union Station, so even at a few extra trips per week it would soon add up. For most commuters, the TTC’s a must to continue into the city since the GO train line is right up against the lake. So that’s an extra $100 for the TTC monthly pass. $109, whatever.

All together, a $300 monthly public transit travel budget is not uncommon.

… Continue Reading

Attention: Councillor Kyle Rae,

Sir,

With all due respect, you’re a jerk. I’ve enclosed a reduced photo of you to demonstrate this fact. To you.

I wake up to Bill Carroll on CFRB every morning. I could wake up to The Edge or CHIN but I don’t. Do you know why? Because I don’t necessarily enjoy the music. Or understand the words.  But not because I think that the audience are skanks! Or whatever it is that you were implying:

“And the cruel vengeance of fate is he has to talk to the listeners of CFRB.”

I understand that you and Mr. Tory, to whom you were referring, may have had some political encounters in the past. However, your trysts had nothing to do with me or CFRB’s audience. Spiteful public jealousy does not behoove a politician, sir. And if you have a problem with John talking to us, take it up with him!

Disregards,
Patrick

Dear Bill Carroll,

Sir,

With all due respect, oh no! I can’t believe they’re moving you to 9 a.m. I mean, great that you get to wake up later and have a longer time slot, but I’m not sure about this John Moore fellow that’s replacing you. (I’ve enclosed a photo of him looking rather menacing — he says he doesn’t like cats!)

I hope he can muster the same incensed outbursts at, well, anything like you can. I doubt he’ll be able to evoke the same enraged, torch-bearing, city-razing rabble that your rants do during my struggle with consciousness.

Will he be able to adopt the same seething indignation at even the most inane topics like you, Mr. Carroll?  And I hope you take this as the compliment it is, but your hair-trigger City Hall temper is awe-inspiring. Sir, you are a champion. I would name my cat after you but Oliver Carroll sounds too Dickensian.

Perhaps one day, when this nutty day job of mine is behind me, I can set set my alarm to nine o’clock and wake up refreshed and angry like I used to. Until then, I’ll wearily hold your memory in a petulant little piece of my heart.

Blubberingly,
Patrick

Dear Tess Kalinowski,

Madam,

With all due respect, what the hell?! I was ready with that Toronto subway post a couple of days ago; where were you?! I thought we were supposed to put them both up at the same time. You know, cross-promotion; I link to your story and you link to mine. That was the plan.

But no, I guess your story on the new Sheppard West subway station design was more important.

It could have been so poignant, your spanky new airport terminal of a station against my musty old Bloor-Danforth ones. Mix in a couple of the Transit Commission’s screw-ups like the new transit maps with all the errors, and the under-priced monthly pass that’s losing them money, and we could’ve caused a tidal wave in the media! Think of the brouhaha that this would’ve started. We could’ve singlehandedly taken down the entire Commission!

Now we’ve lost our window of opportunity. It’s best if you disavow any knowledge of me. Pity you chose the route you took; you’ll always be just a transportation reporter.

Regretfully,
Patrick

Darn. I was so hoping that one of the local dailies would run something about the TTC, specifically about the subway. There was only more complaining from St. Clair West (the concrete streetcar barriers are built, people! It’s done! Get over it!), something about Robert Prichard who’s supposed to be getting the Metrolinx program underway (trying to bring the TTC and all the regional transit systems under one roof), and some goof who got busted driving his riding mower drunk on one of the rural roads north-east of Toronto.

Haha! I know, that last one’s not transit. But I had to share. I spent enough time around that area to have seen inebriated lawnmower drivers, and let me tell you, it’s hi-freakin-larious. Under normal circumstances, these gentlemen wouldn’t think to drive an unbalanced buggy with sharp, high-velocity, metal blades underneath, up a very steep hill. But then they partake of a few. :D

I guess there was one thing kinda related to the subway, the Toronto Sun’s lament about the state of our highways. Mostly, they were talking about this:

This is the picturesque Don Valley Parkway. It’s picturesque because it’s late in the afternoon on Sunday. At almost any other time, it’s bumper to bumper, stop and go. If you’ve been on it, you know what I’m talkin’ about, right? How many years of your life have you lost on that road? And on some sections, you’ve got a foot between you, the concrete barrier, the car on the other side, and the car in front, and the jerk behind is honking his horn for you to get outta the way. That, buddy, is how that dipshit down in the valley down there crashed his car. That’s why we’re moving extra slow. That’s why you can kiss my flatulent ass you …

Gosh, even thinking about it gets me all worked up; that’s one angry road. The attached 401’s not much better, but that’s a whole different kinda rage; high-speed, low-brow, middle-finger. You can’t shout at those speeds once you achieve them.

Torontonians know what I’m talking about, right? Yeah! Grandma’s doing eighty in the fast lane with nothing in front of her, tapping the breaks a few times a meter. What the fuck is her problem?! HONK H-O-N-K *H-O-N-K* GODDAMMITYARR!! *smash smash smash* GAAAARRR!! Then black out. Wake up under a highway overpass somewhere by the airport with blood on your hands and a dead body in the trunk of your car. Evade police for weeks in a massive manhunt through rural southern Ontario. Eh? Yeah. What Torontonian hasn’t been there?

So to avoid that scene, and since there’s no way we’re biking in from the sticks every day, there’s public transit. But not the fru-fru, surface streetcar my spoiled butt takes every day. We’re talking about the city plumbing; the subway.

There’s been a lot of talk about putting new stuff into the city center, which is fine by me, but it seems like a lot of the outlying, underground stuff is being forgotten. Specifically, the Bloor-Danforth subway line. That’s not to say that the Yonge-University line isn’t need of bit of a facelift too:

Vintage. The tiles look nicotine-friendly, don’t you think? But, at least, in good condition.

However, in the stations, if you’re in a hurry, headphones in, reading email, you might not notice how rustic they’re getting.

Often, it’s not straight ahead; that’s just an attractive young blur. Sometimes you have to wait for the crowd to clear (as in Sunday), and then look up:

Or you have to be at the right end of the platform:

Right, not that right. The other right. Your right. Right :) And you’re right, it is unsightly. But I haven’t heard of any plans to take care of it. Has Scabby Row been foresaken? I did my teen years there and it was pretty grungy. I was back recently and Kennedy Station had an even more watch-your-back feel to it than I remembered.

I’m one of those incurably sunny people who think that one of the ways to deal with the problem is to make the place nicer. For being so busy, it’s a grim station. On one side, it’s got a raised road with a raised LRT train track under it (two storeys of concrete, basically) so it’s dark, and on the other the parking lot of a grey-slab of a community centre. Stabbing or shooting someone here doesn’t seem out of context.

So, change the context I say. I’m sure it’s been tried and tested somewhere. And I’m sure I didn’t come up with it; wouldn’t that be a sad world to live in? I’m just too lazy to find a link.

Spruce up the stations. Scrub off some of that water damage. Repair some of those broken chunks. Put a little more life in there.

That probably won’t come out of the downtown streetcar money, which itself is in question. And that  infrastructure funding that was supposed to have paid for things like this turned out to be not so much. But there is the community.