TTC – TOpoet

The Paranoid Blues

October 31, 2022 topoetLeave a comment

I’ve gotten my annual flu shot. I know I’m playing into the hands of the big pharma conspiracy to keep getting bigger – after all they made the myth of covid into hugely profitable reality. I’ll get the next covid booster too. I’ll also apply for the dental cost supplement – playing into the hands of the dental conspiracy that tells me good teeth are a good idea.

I wear a mask on TTC, when shopping, when going to the theatre because I’m one of those gutless guys unwilling to take a chance when no one else is taking a chance. I’m okay if that mask mandate comes back based on the figures I’ve seen.

What figures you ask? Well, to be honest I haven’t seen any – they are nearly impossible to find – at least for Toronto. The fact that some hospitals have seen an alarming increase in cases is enough for me. Gone are the days when got regular media reports on such matter – the info didn’t find the right advertisers. It wasn’t bringing in enough money except for big pharma & they are being quiet about their profits.

Even new variations are old news now. People seem to have become inured to threat, risk, precautions. ‘We’ll have a shot for that soon’ is the attitude, so meanwhile don’t get annoyed if I happen to cough in your direction’ My response, ‘don’t get annoyed if I don’t want to shake your hand or give even a little hug.’ I’ve got better things to do than take a home covid test just to be sure.

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The Public Glare

April 5, 2022 topoetLeave a comment

The Public Glare

the woman

glared at me

as she sat opposite me

on the subway

as she glared

she tucked her skirt

tighter around her knees

I suppose

to prevent my glance

from burrowing

to catch glimpse

of the gates of heaven

between her legs

if she hadn’t glared

I would have been oblivious

I wasn’t looking at her

but at the man

who stepped aside

to let her sit

the pillar of heaven

between his legs

was captivatingly

at both our eye levels

I looked down at my e.reader

every time I glanced up

to the pillar of heaven

her glare accused me

of invading her privacy

I never go on public transit without something to read, not that I am addicted to reading but it gives my eyes something to look at beside the people around me. When its too crowded I try to focus on the shoulder of someone a few bodies from mine. I know enough about people shoes already 🙂

Surrendering our person space is, for many, an uncomfortable sacrifice for transit. One way I try to respect that is by only seeing enough not to walk into or over people. But sometimes eyes catch. I look away before it becomes a challenge & that usually works, unless, as in this moment we end up facing each other. It did make me wonder why some people wear what they do – like the time a woman with major cleavage stood directly in front me – it was too crowed for several stops to actually get up & I would hav had to hold my e.reader at eye level to avoid the valley in front of me.

I am aware of how many men look at women – I’ve seen teenage girls pass some men on the street & the men’s eyes follow them, almost hopefully. Once when such groups passed each the men actually stopped after a few steps to turn around & watch the girls walking. Were the women aware of this? Did they care? It’s no wonder women often don’t feel safe in public.

I remember one time, I have piece about this somewhere, getting on the subway & the only other person getting on was a woman. I got off a toys top & she was getting off there, from a different exit door. It was if I was following her. Outside we were walking in the same direction, she glanced back nervously, & we were about to turn up the same street, so I opted not to turn & went half-a-block in the wrong direct before turning back to get to my house.

Rarely is there a ‘pillar’ though to sooth my troubled vision, lol.

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Cold Sweat

March 8, 2022 topoetLeave a comment

Cold Sweat

I’m just sit there

I don’t say anything

I don’t even look in your direction

my eyes on my feet

on my travel mug

on my smart phone

like everyone else

in transit

not looking at anyone

pulling our bodies tight

lest we brush another person

lest we be accused

of staring

of invading another’s privacy

I don’t need restraints

to feel restrained

to feel the fear

of being too close

even when we are shoved

so close

in transit

so close

we break out into a cold sweat

fearful of enjoying the closeness

or that someone might

enjoy being this close to us

get back

don’t look at me

I’m here

but not here

This was written pre-pandemic so there no mention of masks. Even then I took the TTC as little as possible & only for destinations that were too far to walk to. When I did use transit I was one of those who retreated behind the shield of an e.reader & for decades also my iPod. I stopped the iPod to hear all important announcements & also have one less thing to worry about when I was on the go. I still don’t hear those announcements though & when I can make them I’m not sure what they are telling me.

But that’s not what this piece is about. It’s about personal space & how we react to having it encroached upon & is there a polite way to ignore it. Travellers acting as if it’s your personal fault they can’t sit down, can’t get out fast enough when the doors open, can’t look up to see where they are going, can’t step out of the way when you are getting off while they have to get on.

If one is indifferent to this snug sardine travel there is a hint that you are some sort of pervert – a subway masher using this context as an opportunity to be crushed into another person – maybe it’s your only real person-to-person contact in a world where we now are required, most of the time, to social distance – where we are often forced off the sidewalk into on-coming traffic, so as not to breathe on pack of mothers pushing baby carriages while walking their dogs. But that’s another blog 🙂

We spend spend so much energy on being focused enough to see where we are going while not seeing who else is around us we’ve become a culture in which we don’t see an assault, a robbery, we can’t be reliable witnesses. The cellphone, security camera has become our eyes. We only look closely in the privacy of our homes.

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Winter Night Light

May 8, 2021 topoet1 Comment

Night shots taken December 2020 when I was out taking photos of Christmas lighting. All east end Toronto.

container classrooms at Jackman Ave. Public School

Recorporated

October 21, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

Recorporated

I was on the subway. Standing & avoiding those crowding close me. Breathing slowly into my mask, head down to keep as from contact as possible. The new reality.

People got on & off at each stop. Each negotiating space around them & between others. Some apologizing for brushing up against someone when it was impossible to avoid brushing up against someone. The old reality.

In the window reflection I saw someone stand close beside me but when I glanced to them there was no one there. The reflection was unchanged though. There was clearly a person – I say a person because though the shape was clearly there, the face was distorted by the glass. I couldn’t tell if it was male or female. I couldn’t even see any race. I could feel them press against me as the subway stopped. When I looked to apologize there was no one there. No one.

They were only there in reflection. Wearing a mask much like mine.

The train stopped at my station. I moved to get off but stopped for a moment to glance at the figure by me. I saw it moving past me in reflection. I followed. It turned. I saw it full face. It was me. He exited. Stunned, I couldn’t follow.

The door closed. I had no reflection. I merge back into the crowd. Stood behind someone, willing them to look up. When they did I saw my refection.

M-Miscellaneous

October 8, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

Les Mersey’s is a PQ pop group who thrived thanks to CanCon regulations about both the amount of radio airtime that had to be devoted to Canadian music & in Quebec how much of the time had to be in French. I have several stand-alone cds of the amazing series ‘Les Groupes des Années 60.’ The 25 Chansons include originals, a few sung in English but mostly French versions of English hits such as their take on The Rolling Stones – Stupid Girl, Fille Stupide. These are a delight.

I started to collect these when I visited Montreal in the mid-90’s. It was a vain attempt to improve my French but, well, that didn’t happen – c’est la vie. But it did help open my eyes to the insidious influence of US pop music & the sometimes hilarious ways it was adapted by other cultures. If you like this wonky cultural appropriation search out Cambodian pop for the 60s.

Next M is Metro Station best known for their insanely addictive summer hit Shake It. Catchy & fun the album is solid, though nothing quite has the zip of Shake It. All the tracks would make nice movie/TV moments though. The band disappeared after this hit, as far as I know, though Wiki tells me they are still active. The subway in Montreal is known as Le Metro so there is a connection with Les Mercy’s.

The last of this M miscellany is MGMT. I have stand-alones of Oracular Spectacular & Congratulations. I picked up them first as at the result of reading about it in Entertainment Weekly. I may have also seen the video for Electric Feel – which is a great slinky summer hit. The lps are described as psychedelic rock – but, well, they aren’t Umma Gumma trippy. Enjoyable as they are, two cds were enough for my collection.

Maybe He Was Dead

So far there were no TV crews hovering around what was going on. Jan stayed within listening distance but tried not to seem too nosey. A few people were taking pictures with cell phones but they were being warned off by the police. TTC was always sensitive about what went on. She had to figure how to confirm what her sister had told her.

Manonotti was one of the more outspoken voices on city council when it came to almost anything, he never dodged the limelight. His latest mission had been to side with the cyclist union for more dedicated bike lanes. He felt that giving more money to public transit didn’t have to mean just the subway and that if there were more attention payed to alternate forms of transport the city would be better off.

As a result he was frequently at logger-heads with both the TTC and merchants. Merchants who felt more bike lanes meant less parking for paying customers who now had no where to park their cars. Manonotti was outspoken and blunt. Now, maybe, he was dead.

Jan had met him a few times. Interviewed him once when he his crusade was to halt the health spas that were popping up along the Danforth in long empty store fronts. The spas were covers for rub and tug operations where the massage was sexual and not medicinal.

But when he saw that transportation was getting more press hw switched his focus to what would get him the greatest face time. He had hopes of parleying all this into a run for the mayor. He felt it was time the city had someone born and bred in Toronto at the helm and not some corporate clone.

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Meat Loaf Transcendent

October 1, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

Here’s another cd mp3 compilation that covers genres, eras, & even countries. Epic rock, funk, disco, retro & meditation – who could ask for more? Khrishna Das has been described as “the chant master of American yoga.” One doesn’t have to know yoga to enjoy this meditative music. I have Breath of the Heart & One Track Heart. New Age world music of the top order. Evocative & emotionally resonant. Good for writing to as well.

The rest of this compilation is not as transcendent but is definitely emotionally resonant starting with the classic: Meat Loaf: Bat Out Of Hell. Epic, operatic rock that still tops the oldies charts. I remember the seismic shock when this was first released & everyone was listening to it. I still love it. Sadly there was no really successful follow up – operatic quickly became bombastic tripe. If you are one of the few people on earth who has never heard Bat, do so asap 🙂

Speaking of earth here too is Rare Earth: In Concert. Solid rock/funk. More about them when I get to ‘r’ on the shelf. But we won’t wait for ‘r’ for Revolver Reloaded. This is a set of cover versions of the Beatles’ Revolver. This remake of a vintage lp is a popular nostalgia genre now. Good fun by British bands I’ve never heard of & some nice re-imaginings others too reverent.

For some more earthbound balance is Ray Charles: The Very Best Of – classic rock before classic rock was invented. I have vague recollections of some of these songs on the radio & was happy to add it here. Finally some classic disco with Jackie Moore: I’m On My Way. I have clear memories of sweating to this on the dance floor & never wanting the song to end. A great voice, great production & like many disco albums only the singles pop.

Murder on the TTC

Jan was walking up the stairs when her cell began to ring. There were too many people around her for easy access to it. At the top she stepped aside.

“Hello.”

“Jan thought you’d want to know. They found a body at the Bloor station!”

It was her sister Karen.

“Yeah I saw the police when we passed through there.”

“It was Peter Manonotti.”

“What!” she automatically started back down the stairs. Manonotti was one of the most vocal city council members when it came to matters transit.

“I gotta go. Can’t be caught tipping you off.”

“Thanks, sis.” Karen was a subway driver. “Don’t want you to get fired on my account.”

“Fired! Ha. I have a union. Takes more than this to get rid of a tough dyke like me.”

Jan got on the next train back. Manonotti dead. Murder on the TTC. She could see the headlines now. She stepped off again at Bloor and made her way down the stairs and up to the other side. Maybe this would be the scoop she needed.

A yellow tape marked a corner from the top of the stairs to the gateway. Patrons were being moved along directed by police and transit security. Both washrooms were now out of bounds.

She pulled her press card out of her purse ready to show it to the officer in charge of moving people along.

“Can you tell me what happened Office Lee.” She glanced at his badge.

“Nothing to tell.”

“I hear there’s been a body found?”

“Some guy had a heart attack taking a crap.”

“Oh.”

“Out of the way people so the medics can get though.”

He pushed her aside into the crowd that had formed.

Bad Bad Spirit Pie in Your Hair

September 10, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

Next on the shelf is a mp3 cd collection of radio fodder male singer/songwriters of the 70’s, with one exception. Here is Don McLean’s American Pie, Don McLean, Homeless Brother. Pie & Vincent are era defining songs that are used in countless movies for instant period ambiance – in fact all it takes is the ‘buy buy’ oops, I mean ‘bye bye’ & you know where your are in time. I loved that song. Vincent less so – too gentle & greeting card for me. McLean never matched this early success but continued to record. The self-named album sees him as a pop version of Noel Coward with fun songs two of which are worth tracking down: Narcisissma, On The Amazon. He’s sort of the US answer to Gordon Lightfoot 🙂

I loved Jim Croce. On this cd I have You Don’t Mess Around With Jim, I Got A Name, Life & Times. As a stand alone Photographs & Memories; Greatest Hits. His writing & music was emotionally accessible, unpretentious & catchy. He wrote about ordinary men & women with lived-in affection. Looking for the track listings for his lps I want to name check every song as they are each classics. The emotional directness of some of the songs can make me almost tearful. His unexpected death in 1973 at 30 ended an amazing career.

Also inescapable was Norman Greenbaum’s Spirit In The Sky. The album is sweet folksy, slightly psychedelic & fun with of course his big hit. Canned Ham his second ‘hit’ was good. He recorded a few more stepped lps then back – the music industry wasn’t for him. The same is true for Scott McKenzie: The Voice Of … smash hit with If You’re Going – that road the crest of flower power sweetness – the album is a tad bit darker but those flowers lost their petals, as it were. Thanks to Papa John Phillips he (& Barry McGuire) fill blanks in the Mamas & Papas catalogue nicely. In fact Scott became a member of that group for awhile.

Lastly in this compilation is Elmore James: The Final Sessions. I wanted something to balance out the flower power weight of the other performers & this set. James is a true blues slide guitar magician. Only one album by him was released during his lifetime. This set collects his final two sessions from February 1963 in New York City, and he would be dead within three months of a heart attack at the age of 45. Timeless music.

The Kick Outside

On the subway the little girl kicked me in the ankle. She was about six but at that size and age who can really tell except a parent. I’m no parent. She was one of the prime reasons I wasn’t interested in being a parent.

I said, “Stop.”

She laughed and kicked me again.

I looked for a parent. Across the aisle was a woman beaming at her cute little girl, smiling at me to indulge the little sweet thing.

The little sweet thing had on patent leather shoes. Black shiny hard. As she was about to kick me again I gently pushed her back.

“Stop that.” I said.

The mother glared me.

‘“How dare you touch my child. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Tell your child to keep her feet to herself.”

“You perverted slime ball.” The mother stood. “Touching my child. Don’t think you’re going to get away with that.”

Grinning, the child kicked me harder. People looked at us. The little girl began to cry.

‘“Look what you’ve done! Hold him there while I get the police.”

Two large men appeared and held me by the shoulders.

“The child was kicking me and I pushed her away.” I explained as they pulled me off at the next stop.

“She musta had a reason to kick you, you asshole. Your type makes me sick.” One of the men grunted.

They held me there for about ten minutes until the subway police showed up to see what the fuss was. The woman and child where gone. The guys holding me admitted they saw nothing.

When I got home there was a bruise on my ankle.

Living-Room

April 6, 2020April 6, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

So this is a glance at my living-room. These two prints I picked up many many years ago at The Clay Room on the Danforth. I bought the veranda one first – I love the mood & sense that someone just stepped into the house. It sits over the mantle piece. A few years late I bought the bicycle one. Again the mood is relaxing.

There is fine detail work in both that my camera doesn’t capture. They were both framed & under glass when I bought them. The fact that frames were a perfect match for the walls did play a part in my getting them. Both by the same artist whose name is scrawled unreadable (by me) on the bottom. The Clay Room no longer sells prints.

On the mantle piece is this scale model of a TTC bus. Here I’m showing it off out of its box but it does sit in its box on the mantle. Don’t want dust to demise its collector value. Made to scale. I ordered it from the TTC gift store. Hand painted, it also has a set of details int he box for various routes, which will remain in the box. I do have a spare one tucked away in a drawer too. Some day they may be worth enough to get some Stratford Festival tickets 🙂

The samurai is one of the posters for a 1989 show at the Beaux Arts in Montreal – ‘Le Japon de Shogun’ – which I bought when I went to the amazing exhibit there. It took a year or so to realize the person in the samurai was real & not a mannequin of some sort. I used to visit Montreal with a recovery friend who moved to TO & would go back for a week every summer. I loved the city & even learned a few helpful phrases – Mon hôtel est près d’ici. 🙂

Finally is this object that my partner bought at a sale at his school decades ago. It was made in one of the arts classes there & reminded him, for some reason, of Lord of The Rings. It is a grotesque & serves as a warning to negative energy to back off. It sits on top of shelf near the TV.

Love’s Tangled Socks

what’s the word

you know the one

to call a kiss

that feels like walking into

a dew jewelled spider web

on a sunny day

while looking in the basement

for that lost sock

you know that word

that slip of the tongue

that tip of the tail

wagging excitedly

yet with a vague damp unease

at the same time

wanting to give in

feeling it’s all too sudden

too sticky in your face

while one hand reaches

to brush the spider web off

the other wants to fondle the spider

what is that word

I have to get the right word

for that sensation

also one for that rapidly

elusive need for the right word

I have to tell you all this

in exactly the right tone

if I don’t

it may never happen again

I may never find that sock

I’ll have to go with one foot bare

on this chilled concrete floor

while other is snug in a sock

trying to balance that tightrope

of grit under one foot

and comfy protection on the other

when did I lose that sock

when did I do laundry last

I have pairs upstairs

in neat rows in a drawer

but it has to be these socks

the ones you liked

to pull off my feet

you like to undress me

kiss each freshly bared part

trace my outline in your silver silva

draw me into to that web

the bed at the centre

where we would devour each other

without a second thought

the other sock has escaped

I thought I had it trapped

like your tongue

held firmly in my grasp

yet it slips slides

elusive fleshy fragments

of tender mystery

and all I can think about

is the tender shock

of this cobweb on my face

don’t want it to get in my eyes

it has caressed my lips

a dusty sooty taste

one hand darts up to brush it away

but stops when I see

the spider scuttle away

into the dark

shocked by the size of this catch

not ready to crawl across my shoulders

the way you do so well

not ready to take the seed

spray it into new shapes

along my stomach

slithering cool trails

us laughing at the moment

turning over in the bed

looking for our clothes

time for clean socks

the other must be in the laundry

I’ll be right back

only I’m stuck here

caught in a loss for words

looking for a definition

that will wind you

around me forever

https://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

May

? Richard III – Stratford Festival

June

July

? All’s Well That Ends Well – Stratford Festival

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Mortality

March 21, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

I’ve seen so many frenzied crowds battling for food & pillaged stores in movies that the covid crisis felt a little unreal. I didn’t expect to see the end of the world – not that I think it’s going to come to a dry coughing end now – but there are endless doomsayers moaning & pointing the finger of blame.

The dystopian future has unexpectedly become a reality. All those irrational actions & reactions in films weren’t just dramatic licence, they were reflecting real human responses – people pulling guns at Costco over toilet paper. Toilet paper! Lining up for the latest game release rather than consider social distancing. Will there be a new iPhone?

I had a lunch plan with a buddy who may cancel because he doesn’t want to take public transit – if we get together it will be take out (as many restaurants, coffee chains, aren’t doing dine in) so we can keep that 6 foot distance between us. It got too complex so we cancelled.

Worry about the transit system running smoothly now becomes will I take transit at all. I’m one of the ‘lucky’ one without a job to deal with. The few things I took transit for have been closed until April 5. Many of the recovery meetings I go to are in community centres or churches – now closed until further notice. So I’m already engaged deeply in social isolation.

I’ve done a few things as a result of the crisis. I’ve bumped up my Vitamin C & spread it out over the day as the body can only aboard so much at a time. I’ve added zinc to my pill intake as it boosts the immune system. I downloaded a set of “Solfeggio Frequencies: Activate Qi Flow and Healing Energy.” I can leave this playing in the background when I’m doing chores around the house.

What are you doing to prepare for the dry cough end of the world?

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