12/11/2010
Well I was right, now that it's colder outside there's a lot less going on in the neighborhood.
That's one aspect of winter I never appreciated before. It's a lot more peaceful after dark nowadays than is in say August or July.
A few funny things I've seen lately that I wanted to share.
Remember a few weeks ago, it was a Friday, when the snow first started to fall? It was about -1, -2 degrees outside at 1AM and my brother and I went for a walk to the 7-11 at Keewatin. Along the way we saw a guy with his truck plugged in.
First off, let me say again it was at WORST -5 outside. The truck was a newer Dodge (I think). Big, red, shinny and new looking at least. Not like it was some old clunker being held together by duct tape and baling wire. No need for it to be plugged in at -5.
More than that his cord was stretched out the front door of his house, over his fence and across the sidewalk. I'm pretty sure that's illegal, but more than that, wouldn't he be losing money because of the heat escaping through his front door, which is now open a crack all night long?
This weekend that just passed I was out and about, walking around for a few hours on a lovely Sunday evening. I saw one guy in shorts in a t-shirt, another who must have been wearing 5 or 6 layers. I had a light coat on and seemed just fine. If I had to guess I'd say it was around 10 degrees outside. Believe it or not the guy STILL had his truck plugged in, cord still stretching across the sidewalk. I guess no one had tripped over it to that point, but I seriously felt like asking the guy what's up with his truck. And if that cord gets cut by a piece of equipment doing snow removal I'll laugh my ass off.
Onto a slightly different subject. A traffic circle appeared at the end of my block almost a month ago now. My dad, who took 20 plus years to learn how to set a VCR has already mastered the traffic circle. Makes me shake my head at those who can't figure it out.
I pass a house that fronts onto Logan almost everyday. There's a big pile of wood in the back, already cut into firewood appropriate pieces. I'm really surprised it's still there. Then again, I can't recall there being an autobin fire in my area either, so maybe it's not THAT surprising.
So, it's been what, 2 weeks since the election? I haven't seen any changes. That's all the proof I need that the whole system is flawed :P (for those who don't know, the :P implies a lot of sarcasm).
On the other hand, how about those Bombers? Looking good for 2011 guys!
Friday, November 12, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
First post
I live on Alexander Avenue. Stop and think about that for a moment. On Alexander Avenue close to Keewatin.
What images of my area do you have? What's the first thing that comes to mind?
I'll be the first to say it's nothing like the area I grew up in. Not only is it geographically distant, it's a different type of neighborhood altogether.
Still, chances are it's nowhere near as bad as you think it is. When I tell people I moved from River Heights to Brooklands-Weston I get odd looks. I get people asking my why the Hell I'd move here. I get all the usual comments about making sure my doors are locked, and not sticking my head out if I hear a loud noise in the back lane.
The area is not without it's problems. A few years back there was a triple homicide at a house party a few blocks away from me. Last week a house burned nearly to the ground. Over the weekend, while three people were shot in the North End, a man was attacked with a machete a 10 minute walk away from my front door.
Things are calming down now with the cold hitting us hard, but there have been weeks, months even, during the summer where the luxury of an open window at night comes with a hefty price tag. When it's too hot to sleep with the windows closed, and too rowdy to sleep with the windows open, where do you turn?
On my block lives The Minivan Family. The summer of 2009 brought a gentleman caller to their door nearly every morning, starting about 2AM. He would scream and curse at one of the residents, pounding on their door until a police cruiser slowly drives by. 30 minutes after the car is out of sight, the gentleman caller is back. That goes on until the third pass, when the police decide to take him away, presumably to the PSB. This usually happens around 4AM, long past the point where going to back sleep will have much practical use. And much like that musical feline, he would come back the very next day.
Afternoons in the fall can be bad too. The kids are living large, breathing deep the sweet air of freedom after being in school all day. That's all well and good, kids will be kids. It's when they're shrieking bloody murder at the top of their lungs, "Help me please help me!" being screamed on a regular basis that gets frustrating.
People wonder how it can be that everyone on the block hears a person screaming for help, but nobody even bothers to pick up the phone and dial 911. I used to wonder that myself. Now I know that some of the time it HAS to be because they've learned to filter it out. I can't remember how many times I jumped and went to the window when I heard those sincere sounding cries for help, only to see two kids running in circles, laughing and carrying on, before I stopped reacting to it.
On the other hand my house has never been broken into, has never been vandalized. My roommate's truck was broken into once, presumably kids.
I used to work in the area, on Notre Dame. Some nights I'd work until 3AM. My co-workers went batty when I told them I walked home after those shifts. One of them almost blew a gasket when told I actually stopped to help a stranger who's car had stalled in the middle of an intersection.
The lawns are well kept in the summer, walks shoveled in the winter. I see people walking their dogs up and down the street, stopping to talk with their neighbors. If I wasn't so much of a misanthropic recluse I'd be out in my front yard waiting to talk to them.
It's a matter of perception. Like the downtown. I don't spend a lot of time there anymore, mostly because I have no real reason to. Saturday mornings I transfer from the 19 to the 66. Sometimes Saturday nights I transfer from the 66 to the 19. Sometimes I go and buy milk from TBS after work. Still, I've never felt uncomfortable there. There are some things that I resent having to put up with, like the pan handlers, but there's nothing I'm unable to cope with.
But, with a new environment comes a different perspective. A different perspective leads to new perceptions.
For instance, as little as a year ago I would have never considered casting my vote the way I did Wednesday.
What images of my area do you have? What's the first thing that comes to mind?
I'll be the first to say it's nothing like the area I grew up in. Not only is it geographically distant, it's a different type of neighborhood altogether.
Still, chances are it's nowhere near as bad as you think it is. When I tell people I moved from River Heights to Brooklands-Weston I get odd looks. I get people asking my why the Hell I'd move here. I get all the usual comments about making sure my doors are locked, and not sticking my head out if I hear a loud noise in the back lane.
The area is not without it's problems. A few years back there was a triple homicide at a house party a few blocks away from me. Last week a house burned nearly to the ground. Over the weekend, while three people were shot in the North End, a man was attacked with a machete a 10 minute walk away from my front door.
Things are calming down now with the cold hitting us hard, but there have been weeks, months even, during the summer where the luxury of an open window at night comes with a hefty price tag. When it's too hot to sleep with the windows closed, and too rowdy to sleep with the windows open, where do you turn?
On my block lives The Minivan Family. The summer of 2009 brought a gentleman caller to their door nearly every morning, starting about 2AM. He would scream and curse at one of the residents, pounding on their door until a police cruiser slowly drives by. 30 minutes after the car is out of sight, the gentleman caller is back. That goes on until the third pass, when the police decide to take him away, presumably to the PSB. This usually happens around 4AM, long past the point where going to back sleep will have much practical use. And much like that musical feline, he would come back the very next day.
Afternoons in the fall can be bad too. The kids are living large, breathing deep the sweet air of freedom after being in school all day. That's all well and good, kids will be kids. It's when they're shrieking bloody murder at the top of their lungs, "Help me please help me!" being screamed on a regular basis that gets frustrating.
People wonder how it can be that everyone on the block hears a person screaming for help, but nobody even bothers to pick up the phone and dial 911. I used to wonder that myself. Now I know that some of the time it HAS to be because they've learned to filter it out. I can't remember how many times I jumped and went to the window when I heard those sincere sounding cries for help, only to see two kids running in circles, laughing and carrying on, before I stopped reacting to it.
On the other hand my house has never been broken into, has never been vandalized. My roommate's truck was broken into once, presumably kids.
I used to work in the area, on Notre Dame. Some nights I'd work until 3AM. My co-workers went batty when I told them I walked home after those shifts. One of them almost blew a gasket when told I actually stopped to help a stranger who's car had stalled in the middle of an intersection.
The lawns are well kept in the summer, walks shoveled in the winter. I see people walking their dogs up and down the street, stopping to talk with their neighbors. If I wasn't so much of a misanthropic recluse I'd be out in my front yard waiting to talk to them.
It's a matter of perception. Like the downtown. I don't spend a lot of time there anymore, mostly because I have no real reason to. Saturday mornings I transfer from the 19 to the 66. Sometimes Saturday nights I transfer from the 66 to the 19. Sometimes I go and buy milk from TBS after work. Still, I've never felt uncomfortable there. There are some things that I resent having to put up with, like the pan handlers, but there's nothing I'm unable to cope with.
But, with a new environment comes a different perspective. A different perspective leads to new perceptions.
For instance, as little as a year ago I would have never considered casting my vote the way I did Wednesday.
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