The Weak-end

Saturday morning was sunny but there was an unseasonal nip to the wind. Along Monarch Park Drive, a neighbourhood garage sale was taking place. It was mostly young families so the main wares were children's items such as toys, clothes, and books. The kids' were selling lemonade, cookies, and freezies. Some older folks laid out decades-old dinnerware and small furniture.

I didn't find anything useful that could fit into my travel bag. The best community yard sale for me is the one along Palmerston Boulevard. First, it was a well-off neighbourhood so there were always unique and catchy items on display. But at the same time, it had (or used to before gentrification) a good number of young renters. So they were always off-loading clothes and other household goods before moving. A decade ago, I got a mini-desktop computer and a 25" LCD monitor for $30. I brought my finds back to Ottawa where this cheap upgrade was perfect for my Mom's needs.

I then walked to Pape and then doubled back to Coxwell. This stretch encompassing Greenwood and Donlands were relatively underdeveloped though some construction was already taking place for a massive development. I was looking for a shawarma joint that could supply me with a veggie/falalel plate. There were none so it was a bianca slice from the Pizzaiolo near my stay.

Lunch actually made me a bit nauseous. Since I also had a concert in the evening, I cocooned myself underneath a blanket for the rest of the afternoon. I was in a semi-conscious state where fragments of dream meant I did occasionally doze off but it never felt like I was ever asleep. Somewhat recovered, but not at 100%, I got a veggie combo ($17) takeout from Ethiopian restaurant Abugida.

But I ended up staying in for a 3rd night. Yes, unlike the other "potential" shows, I had already bought a ticket. I also hadn't seen headliner Allie X since 2019 and opener Maylee Todd since 2017. Torontonians before they moved to L.A. for better opportunities, these musicians held special spots in my heart. A show with the both of them would be a treat. Energy-wise though, I was drained despite my afternoon rest. It was going to rain all night and the thought of getting back after the show while cold and wet was unappealing. Finally, my stomach was grumbling after dinner. It turned out to be a milder case than the episode in Montreal but I usually cancel plans after these intestinal bouts.

Et Tu Bhojan

Friday morning, I went for an early jog through the side streets north of Danforth that I meant to explore last time. I felt strong and healthy though the feeling didn't last through the rest of the day. Passing by a subway station entrance, there was a camera crew waiting to interview early commuters. It turned out the transit strike was averted at the last minute.

I was vaguely disappointed since Toronto would still be walkable without motorized transportation. For the strike back in 2008 I bought a used bike. The walkout, which was struck down by provincial legislation, was so short that I didn't need it for commuting to work. But the bike proved convenient for getting around town until cumulative thefts (first the seat, then the front wheel) made it unusable. Now its presence only existed as old images on Google Street View.

It rained until the afternoon so I worked remotely from my room. Ironic since I was much closer to the office here than in Ottawa. The bao ($3.25) and chicken banh mi ($5.50) that I bought from Huy Ky yesterday provided sustenance. In the early evening, I made my way through pleasant weather to the Nepalese restaurant Bhojan Ghar. This joint, along with Abugida, were pleasant discoveries back in December. I enjoyed my return to the latter and I was looking forward to trying out more food from Bhojan. But I was disappointed with my meal this time round.

The giant image of Dehradhun still hung on the wall but the young and eager waitstaff was gone. Instead of the Nepali Thali, I chose Paneer Makhani ($14.99), Naan ($3.25), and a plate of Chicken Momos ($15). The best were the momos, which I haven't had in more than a decade; they were soft, chewy, and nicely seasoned. With 10 of them, there were plenty of leftovers.

The naan and curry were poor dishes. Gone was the fragrance and toothsomeness that made me ranked the flatbread so highly last time. At first, I attributed it to my taste buds. I have been theorizing that age has dulled my senses. How else to explain the lack of flavour from recent outings both in Toronto and Ottawa? But if true, the Makhani curry would be even worse off because it was shockingly sweet. I ate the cheese cubes but left half the curry untouched. Bhojan was bustling with takeout orders and sit-down guests. The locals have obviously embraced it so perhaps I was the problem.

I returned to my stay already a bit unsettled and my energy drained away for the rest of the evening. If this year's CMW shows were at bigger venues like The Garrison or Revival Club, I might have tried my luck. But although there were some concerts at larger halls, the multi-band showcases for CMW 2024 were in tiny spots like The Painted Lady or Jazz Poetry Café. The thought of sitting cheek-to-jowl while masked and coughing had no appeal for me.

The Freshmaker

The Thursday morning trip was as dreary as I felt. After my visit to my grandma 2 week-ends ago, I came down with a fever. She thought I didn't dress for the weather (it was a cool-ish Spring day) but I think it was that I forgot to wear my mask on the bus. After my fever cleared, I wasn't surprised that a cough lingered on. For about 2 decades, this was the bane of any illness. So I was feeling rather low-energy from sleepless nights and interminable bouts of coughing.

Toronto was sunny and hot but compared to previous trips, I couldn't muster up my usual enthusiasm for The Big Smoke. But once I made it to my East End rental, the heat and liveliness finally perked up my spirit. I was staying on a main-floor bedroom instead of the usual basement suite. It was smaller but the higher ceiling and window view onto the street were good compensation. I chatted with the owner: must be nice to have an income from renting out rooms and traveling all over the world.

When I stay here, I often walk down to Riverdale to buy some comestibles. With summer coming, some of the local shops were setting up their sidewalk patio. I made purchases at Banh Mi Huy Ky but my detour to No Frills was a bust. I was planning to buy my usual Deluxe nut mix as well as some canned food for a charity concert at The Garrison. I should have paid attention to the signage back in April. All the stores have closed to make way for a new subway station and high density development.

I thought about returning to The Real Jerk but one of the newcomers finally opened. Nutmento was a small space that also offered Caribbean fare. There were a few tables and paintings of Bob Marley and Drake. Given the recent beef between the latter and Kendrick Lamar, handily won by Kendrick, a giant mural of Aubrey was a bold choice. I debated between just a sandwich (not usually offered at these places) and a regular meal. I finally opted for a full bowl ($12.95) to support the new business.

It was a large meal comprising of both saffron rice and rice and peas as well as your choice of toppings (I picked coleslaw, corn, tomatoes, daal, and some jalapeno peppers). I'm always astounded at the amount of food compared to Ottawa. The curry chicken was soft and tender but the sauce was too runny. Nutmento didn't dethrone Real Jerk based on flavour but it gets kudos on price; the full bowl was several bucks cheaper than the competition and the $7 jerk-chicken sandwiches would make an affordable lunch.

Lacking canned donations for the concert, the distant location of the venue, and a possible transit strike at midnight, I settled my tired body down for an early night instead.

Keyboard Confessional

After my trip from Toronto, I was back to remote working in Ottawa with a daily walk around the neighbourhood. I have taken to listening to audiobooks on my stroll to drown out the car noise. Since last year, I've realized that Ottawa was a dirtier city than Toronto. I saw litter everywhere, and not just bags of chips or pop cans, piling up on sidewalks, parks, and even lawns and driveways. The lack of public garbage receptacles and city staff cleaning up were likely the main culprit. But perhaps something about Ottawa turn people into jerks: strewn detritus only steps from people's homes; multiple encounters with people who threw empty containers to the ground; and dog poop (and bags of dog poop?!) left in the grass (and once on a tree branch).

I decided to pay for whole-life insurance after a lengthy meeting with my advisors. I accepted their main argument that it was essentially a better-than-average GIC. Later in life, I could access the cash value or simply leave any gains tax-free for beneficiaries. As someone who left their money under a digital mattress for more than a decade, I'm not exactly a poster-child for aggressive investing. The rest of my money was now invested in the stock market, and the volatility was shocking. At the end of April, my market value was thousands of dollars in the red. Now a few weeks later in May, I was thousands in the black. It was all "unrealized" gains or losses but what was real were the fees. So I was currently in the red for the year.

As my mom was in Toronto this Mother's Day week-end with some friends, I decided to go to a concert at the NAC 4th stage on Saturday. The first and only time I saw opener Mikhail Laxton, he was supposedly living in Toronto and collaborating with artists like Lydia Persaud. But tonight he told the hometown crowd he has been in Ottawa for 8 years. I liked this set better than the one at The Drake Underground. Instead of cliché songs about exes and new flames, he sang about his alcoholic absentee father, the rough worker's hotel in his Australian hometown, and working-class life.

I hadn't seen headliner Maia Davies in a decade. It turns out after 7 years, her all-women rock band Ladies Of The Canyon called it quits. Ms Davies then became a professional songwriter, penning a dozen top-ten hits for a variety of artists. She also released 2 solo albums in French. But leaving her abusive partner, who also gave her "access" to studio work, left her at rock-bottom mentally and professionally (blacklisted from the corporate music industry). Maia drove cross-country to L.A. to stay in Venice Beach. During the pandemic years, she holed up with her bubble of artistic friends in California, where the genesis of her new album Lovers' Gothic was formed to address all the trauma.

These details came out in long stories during a set that Davies said was both a performance and a healing/therapy session from "TMI Maia". It was no surprise that her idols included Tori Amos and Kate Bush as her new songs had similar musical intricacies and vocals that swooped and soared. A lifetime of choir practice and classical music training as well as her experience as touring musician, producer, and songwriter were evident. There was a craft to her music that, without compromising its emotional heft, could be lacking in younger musicians.