Tragedy Plus Time

I haven't been to Comedy Bar in 6 years though I was a frequent visitor when they first opened. On Monday night, I dropped by for an 8 pm show in the smaller cabaret room. The venue was relatively empty but was packed for the later shows. Mine was a Just For Laughs showcase: ostensibly each comic had 6 minutes for their best material. The prize: possible inclusion in the real festival but I wasn't convinced there were any actual judges in the crowd. The downside: 10 performers in about 80 minutes. The upside: if you don't like some material or if they weren't connecting, another would be on soon.

Almost half the comics were POCs so there were plenty of "we're like this, they're like that" jokes. Most didn't work for me except for the two Black comedians. One riffed on dating the "wrong kind" of white man (Ivan not Evan) but still getting some privilege (living for free in his parent's spare house). The other related the travails of having a philandering Jamaican dad and opening for R'n'B act dvsn. The final comic also got huge laughs for his Chinese-related jokes. Asians will eat anything was a little too close to a stereotype. But his extended riff on Chinese New Year being a "bullshit holiday" because every Zodiac animal had to "work hard" was gold.

The other comedians mined their own shortcomings. One detailed his hair transplant (via Turkey) experience and being a tourist queer (i.e., "gay when high"). Another talked about being vanilla sexually in a world of people with exciting kinks (turns out he wasn't that vanilla). One stand-up quipped that a comedy show was the ideal date because you look good compared to all the losers on stage. Certainly, several performers turned their personal or family trauma into punchlines.

I'm more of a smiler and the Netflix shows I've watched haven't generated much physical reaction from me. So I was concerned when the stagehand gave me a table at the front (the perils of showing up early). But I was surprised that I was in stitches and laughing out loud several times.

Memento Mori

Memorials to someone's passing are found, temporarily or otherwise, throughout my old neighbourhood. Dufferin Grove contains trees planted with dedications to loved one and an entire walking path (for a bicycle accident victim) dotted with reflexology stones. More sadly, a ghost bike also commemorated another bicycle victim who was hit by a truck. The local community also wrote a tribute when Mr. Siddiqi of Vena's Roti died over the Holidays. During my sublet, a long-time Portuguese Bar (Bloor Bar Cafe/Billiard) was closed because the owner passed away at a young 62. His family kept a photo and an obituary in the window.

On Sunday, when I went to the library at Dufferin and Bloor, I was reminded that not all memorials come from the living. Unfortunately, some are the forgotten relics of a quiet life. There have been numerous unhouse folks in the neighbour over the years. Some come and go such as the homeless encampments or visitors to the women's shelter Sistering. Others stay around for years like the old panhandler who wished everyone a happy life.

There was a woman, in her late 50s or early 60s, who hung around that corner. She never asked for change or talked very much. She did accumulate thing over the years until it grew to 2 shopping carts full of stuff. But they were neatly packed and tied down with plastic tarps. After my arrival in early January, when I saw them alone on the sidewalk, I was worried. But I thought (half-heartedly) that, with the snow and ice frozen solid around the carts, she was still nearby and that it was more convenient to leave them there. After all, many people left their parked cars buried in the snow for weeks this winter.

But the snow has finally melted for good for several days. So when I saw that the carts haven't moved, I felt sad. I'm hoping she is somewhere safer, perhaps living in a permanent home, and had already taken personal items with her. But those carts may be the last reminder of someone who left this world unnoticed and unmourned.

No One Is Watching

On Saturday, I headed back to Geary for Gaucho Pies as it has been awhile. One problem was that the store was opened only 3 days a week for retail, the rest of the time they made empanadas to sell wholesale. They now have a store-front so I no longer had to walk down an industrial hallway. I selected spinach/ricotta ($4) and roasted mushroom ($4). There was no place to eat outside because the planters and benches near Knockout Ice Cream were gone and apparently, so has Knockout. It was now Good Behaviour, a custard ice cream and submarine sandwich shop. But it was less than 5 minutes back to my sublet. The empanadas were still warm and packed with flavour. The only downside: they were on the small side which wasn't so bad when they only cost $2.75.

I spent the afternoon watching shows on Amazon Prime. Though I leave the apartment more than back in Ottawa, after the last few days of cloudy skies, you don't want to go anywhere. Since I couldn't get my thali dinner on Friday, I walked to Lansdowne to get some from Dosa Mahal. As I approached the intersection, I noticed a long line across the street. Was it Record Store Day and people were waiting to get in Dead Dog Records? Nope, they were putting their names on a waitlist for either Sugo or its offshoot "Bar Sugo" (once The Emerson and Caribbean Queen's original spot). At a corner, two young women expressed dismay that people from other parts of Toronto were ruining their local spot because of trendiness. I chuckled to myself that gentrifiers were complaining about other gentrifiers, especially over such a mediocre joint. But Sugo has been here for almost 10 years now, in another decade it will be considered an OG.

The vegan thali ($14.99) was essentially Mahal's tiffin box (2 curries + rice) with an additional curry, 2 soups (daal and sambar), a small naan, and a few sides (papadam, pickles, chutney or yogurt). Was it worth the extra $4? Sort of. The soups were the best upgrade: rich and flavourful. The curries here have always been good but not great. The naan was tasty enough but lacked the fragrance and chew of a tandoori-baked one. It was a good, filling meal (with masala chai for $2.50) but a couple of bucks off would be ideal.

After walking for about a block, I decided to take transit ($3.20) back home. It was only 2 subway stops and a quick ride by bus. But I felt that given the longer walking distance and my intestinal sensations, it wasn't a leisurely stroll kind of evening. I was probably right as I felt gassy all night and the next morning's bathroom visit was fuller than usual.

This bloating also prevented my first ever visit to Dovercourt House. With two left feet, I never went inside this venerable building bustling with dance classes and late-night dancing. But there was a special event on Saturday: a showing of Tango Malhar. This new South Asian film a la Shall We Dance? starred a poor rickshaw driver instead of an older Japanese salaryman. Then after a professional demonstration, there would follow several hours of milonga or impromptu partner dances. The film and showcase seemed up my alley and maybe I would even watch the dancing for a bit. But it wasn't just about my questionable innards tonight; I was afraid that I might need nice clothes and dress shoes. And the more I dug into the sponsor of the event, the more it seemed like a vanity show.

Happy To See Me Emoji

On Friday my boss threatened that we might have to work on the week-end. Some people had actually put in extra hour on Thursday's night when I was at the Lula Lounge for a show. Ultimatums don't work on me at my age but I did have a quick lunch with leftovers from South Pacific. In the afternoon, my friend dropped by not so much for a visit but to exchange pots. Their partner had installed a new induction stove-top at their house and their cookware didn't work. Luckily, the ones here were magnetic and were compatible. I pointed a few problems I noticed: mold in the washer (I use the laundromat next door) and some minor water issue at the back of the loft. But they already knew of these issues. The succulent by the front door, which had sprouted a long stem, wasn't thriving more than usual due to my careful watering. In fact, it pushed out this flower stalk every spring; my friend usually just lopped it off.

I finally found time in the early evening to re-stock the fridge for my final week at my sublet. Recalling that the excellent Chakna offered thali options for around $15, I dropped by the street-food spot. But these dishes were unavailable because either they weren't offered during busy hours or never as dine-in items (there was some communication issues). So I crossed to the other side for Szechuan Noodle Bowl.

Last time I was here, I grew tired of noodles by the end of my meal as I had eaten them on different visits. Some other diners chose non-noodle dishes but I was reluctant as they were more expensive and clearly meant to be shared family-style. This time I opted for braised eggplant ($14.49), enoki mushroom with chili ($8.99), and rice ($2.50). Both dishes were excellent: the eggplant was flavourful and tender. I'm sure each slice was soaked in oil but they didn't have that overly rich mouth-feel. Note that like dishes for numerous Chinese restaurants, its' seemingly vegetarian-friendly description omitted the ground pork in the sauce. The mushroom, as a cold dish, had a surprisingly toothsome chew. The only misstep was the rice: clumpy and almost too dry. Unlike the semi-regular I had seen from before, I took all the leftovers home.