Di - Vine - ity

Tonight Torontonians felt a little chill in the air, a minute signal that change is afoot. As I closed the outdoor area for the evening, I looked up at the magnificent grapevine that envelopes our patio each year, currently at its peak.

I consider the fact that I've known this vine longer than anybody who works here.

For many years I have watched it transition from Gothic stems in the depth of winter to little buds in early spring. My favourite time is early June when the poor thing is trying to get "laid". It drops little green seeds all over our patio at a frenzied and fruitless rate.

I particularly enjoy this time because a lot of people complain about green things in their beer. I usually shrug my shoulders, mention something about the miracle of nature, suggest keeping a coaster over your drinks, and laugh to myself.

This only lasts for a few weeks. Let the vine do its work, you'll thank it later.

At its epoch in late summer, it is a magnificent beast, acting as a green roof for our entire patio, and then a long slow recession back to chilled oblivion.

And maybe it is just me, but the damn thing seems to get more robust each year.

I wish I could say the same.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

Loud Chewer!!! Waster!!!!

Recently in Canada a major fast food chain has been advertising a very spicy product and using the idea that this burger is so spicy it will make you angry. In the commercial, two friends eat the burger in question, and become short term enemies because of the spice. We hear their inner voices as they eat the burger, which makes them angry.

"Loud Chewer!" one thinks about the other.

"Waster!" thinks the other as a jalapeneo falls from his colleagues burger.

I pointed out the commercial to a fellow bartender, and whenever we are hopelessly busy behind the bar, I will turn to her and say in my best angry voice, "Loud chewer!".

Inevitably, she calls back "Waster!", with equal vehemence.

And in that moment we mock our internal dialogue, ourselves, and our stress.

I don't know what it means to her, but for me it is a subtle way to release some of the stress of the moment and a comment about what I'm thinking and what I'm projecting and the gap between the two.

We all have an internal dialogue and it is important that we listen to it. Disconnection between our experience and our perception is the root of a lot of problems in a world where outside forces are constantly trying to alter our perception, so they may define our experience.

If you want to define your own experience, you must listen closely to your inner dialogue.

And, until I figure that one out, you might be just another "loud chewer!".

But that is my problem, not yours.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

Hope For A Better Life Has No Business In My Canada.

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My Canada welcomes everyone. I'm a globalist, not a patriot.

http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2010/08/14/tamils-what-now.html

Tongue, meet cheek.

 I am appalled that we would even consider allowing people who are fleeing persecution into this country.  My family has been here for 112,000 years. According to my crazy dead uncle, it was my family that allowed the natives in to this country.


Heck if our grandparents had the unmitigated gall to turn back a boatload of Jews fleeing the Holocaust, it would be a disrespect to their memory to allow these people in.


I mean if we keep allowing people to arrive on our shores seeking a better way of life, where will it end? Just because my family did it, doesn't mean your family deserves the same right.

What do you think I am, some kind of immigrant?

http://www.goyestoeverything.com


(editors note) Further research shows that Mr. Stock and his family have not been residents of North America for 112,000 years, and that in fact Mr. Stock is indeed "some kind of immigrant". We're just not sure what kind.

Why Rob Ford Might Win

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I'm a man who enjoys a simple life. I work part time in a local bar for a lovely lady. I live in a small apartment, I keep my financial commitments to a minimum and I try and put a little away each week so that I can pursue my dream of traveling to far off places.

My usual schedule is three shifts per week, and Saturday night is always a solid moneymaker. But not tonight. Tonight I saw the incompetence of a fat bloated system in action.

At 6:45 pm, a worker from the city came in and told us that the water in our bar was going to be shut down from 7:30 pm until 11:30 pm .

I mentioned that there is a law requiring 24 hours notice. I was told that there was an emergency. I understand emergencies, but this smells to high hell.

You see, I live on the same street, a five minute walk from my place of employment and on Tuesday I received a notice in my mail box that my water would be shut off on Thursday, August 12th, coincidentally for four hours.

I have watched the crew move down the street, towards my place of employment. There was no emergency, but several bars and restaurants were forced to close. On The Danforth. In the middle of summer. On a Saturday night.

The last time this happened, the health inspectors followed, and shut down everyone who stayed open. No water, no business.

But the most laughable thing of all was the fact that we were forced to close, and the water was never actually shut off. And we are not the only ones.

The high end joint across the street cancelled thirty five reservations. Our sales were 25% of what they were the previous Saturday.

Personally, I lost a solid Saturday night shift, or about 40%. of my average weekly income.
And for what? Nothing.

One worker on site expressed surprise, commenting that this work could be done overnight.

In my opinion the city owes me for lost wages and should compensate every business that was forced to close in this false debacle

With the city conducting its affairs with this level of competence, it is not difficult to understand why Mr. Ford is leading in the polls.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

Five Other Musicians I Miss

The other night I had a conversation with a friend about the night John Lennon was shot and the shock of that moment. I remember the day that Elvis died. I was at Mike R's house with some buddies, screwing around. We all had a brief moment and then agreed that our parents would be upset, then we went back to screwing around.

And in hindsight, my sympathy level for Elvis falls in to the "Jim Morrison Category". You did it to yourself dude.

The following is my list of great musicians who left us too soon. Who do you miss?

1. Jimi Hendrix

Contrary to popular belief, Mr Hendrix does not belong in the Jim Morrison/ Elvis Category. He was a fine human being who changed the way that people thought about the electric guitar. He was being worked to death and wasn't being paid. He essentially died of exhaustion and medical incompetence and he never got anywhere near his unbounded potential. A very humble and decent man who I dearly miss. And still the greatest guitar player who ever walked the planet, IMHO.




2. George Harrison

While Mr. Harrison died in his mature period and was philisophical enough to come to terms with his demise, his presence is sorely missed by this writer. Also, I am firmly convinced that his solo work will outshine his fellow Beatles in the long run.



3. Peter Tosh

Yeah, we all know Bob Marley (another man who left us too soon), but did you ever wonder about who "The Wailers" were? Peter Tosh released an album in 1983 entitled Equal Rights, which I consider to be one of the finest albums ever made, reggae or otherwise. Sadly, he was gunned down in a robbery at his home in Jamaica on September 11th, 1987.



4. Joe Strummer

The leader of the seminal band The Clash, we lost Joe suddenly in December, 2002 of a congenital heart defect. A man who used his music to stand up for what he believed in, I am pretty sure that he would be mortified to look at the vacuous empty headed meaningless garbage that passes for musical art today. "Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls".



5. Otis Redding

Probably the most melancholy single ever released, this iconic tune went on to become the only number one ever achieved by the brilliant Otis Redding. Sadly, the song was recorded only days prior to his tragic death in a car accident that silenced the most passionate voice in the history of R + B. Mr. Redding was not present at the moment of his greatest commercial success.



How I wish, how I wish they were here.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

The Road To Damascus

The other day I had a conversation with someone that revealed something to me about myself regarding why I travel.

We were discussing my next trip and the thought occurred to me that I travel to prove to myself and others that the vast majority of my fellow human beings are the same as you and I.

So far, my theory has proven true in Cambodia, Belize, Ghana, Vietnam, Mexico,  Honduras, Thailand, Costa Rica, Canada, The Cayman Islands, and The United States.

While the sample is not complete, I do see a pattern that indicates that most of humanity is completely awesome.

I will be shocked if the people of the Middle East prove to be any less welcoming.

I truly believe that we are all brothers and sisters, and that the things that divide us are miniscule when compared with the things that unite us, and I look forward to spending Christmas in a predominately Muslim country that is tolerant of other religions

Damascus is the oldest continually inhabited city on the planet. Straight Street is the only street named in the bible that still exists.

While I am not a religious man, it is hard to ignore the significance of Damascus. Different religions living in harmony in the Middle East?

I'll support that, and I can't imagine a finer place to be on Christmas Day.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

GET THE F**K OUT NOW!

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When I have a night off, I will sneak out after midnight to my local for a pint or two. (ahem) When last call comes I do not question the time, I pay my bill immediately and I vacate the premises before the bartender tells me to finish my drink.

Its called courtesy, respect, etiquette. It is something I learned from my Mom.

Oddly, I find it to be in short supply when I am behind the bar.

I work in a really nice little bar. I work with extraordinary people overseen by an exquisite lady. Our little joint is popular and for that I am truly grateful.

We stay open late, so we tend to get a little rush at last call. And make no mistake, 99.9% of our customers are awesome people, including those that I had to yell at tonight.

Maybe it is just me and my crankiness. I've worked a lot lately (my choice) and recently survived The Taste Of  The Danforth,  the largest neighbourhood festival in this country.

As I walked in tonight I had high hopes for a mellow affair, but the first dagger was a party of twenty booked in for 10pm on a Sunday night. (seriously, are you kidding me) The equally disgruntled Miss Jocund and myself managed to get through that.

I was granted permission to give last call a bit early, in the vain hope that this might clear the desperadoes. But it was not to be, and I can't tell you how much I enjoy begging people to finish their drinks night after night after night.

Even more fun is begging them to leave the premises twenty minutes after I have removed their drinks.

Night after night after night.

And just to top things off was the dork who climbed the fence to join his friends on the patio at 3 am Monday morning.

So let me give you people a little primer on how life works if I am giving you last call.

• There is only one last call. You may not run to the bar at 1:59:30 and order eight B52's. I gave you the opporunity, you didn't take it, now you can suck me off.
• When you get your bill pay it immediately. It would be nice if we could cash out.
• When I tell you that you have five minutes to finish, I mean it. Our liquor license is sacrosanct, and I do not relish the thought of telling my colleagues and my boss that the reason we have to close for a week is due to my negligence. And yes, the inspectors have pulled in at 3am.
• After your drink is removed at 2:45 am, you should vacate within five minutes. If you don't, you are a complete douchebag.

Get it? Got it? Good.

Are you people so bereft of ideas that you must cling on to hanging out in some bar until the last possible minute, night after night after night? Don't waste your breath, cos I already know the answer, and it saddens me.

Unfortunately, my mother didn't raise everybody.

I thank you so much  for your cooperation in this matter and  I look forward to serving you in the future. But right now I would appreciate it if you could show a modicum of respect for the business, the lady who owns it, and the staff who run it.

http://www.goyestoeverything.com

I'm Mad As Hell, And....

Image by ppelisek via Flickr

A few years back, a lady I know was mercilessly beaten by a maniac for ten bucks. Actually, she wasn't beaten for ten bucks, she had already wisely surrendered her cash, and then she was beaten for not having more.

She is one of the finest people I know, and I was both shocked and shattered when told of this violent incident. I was also stunned that this kind of unprovoked attack took place in my beloved neighbourhood.

I know a few people in the hood and I knew who this punk was. I put the word out to some people, but it was another friend who singlehandedly nailed this scumbag in cooperation with the Toronto Police Service. And make no mistake, the police did fine work....eventually.

And now we have two more rogues wandering the street unabated.

Rogue the first loves to steal bicycles, break into cars, steal cellphones from patio patrons. Like some weird urban aardvark, his snout scans my neighbourhood relentlessly. He is known as "Timmy", but his real name is Tim Shields.

According to one officer, petty crime is through the roof in my hood. If this is the case, ya might want to talk to Timmy.

On a more disturbing level is the dude who is getting his jollies by spitting in the face of young women. He also seems to enjoy threatening brown skinned people. Truly he is disturbed, and I deeply fear what he may do.

On my street?

In my community?

I don't think so.

It is time to have the camera at the ready, talk to the cops, and let them know that we do not want these two criminals allowed to disregard the law with impunity in our neighbourhood.

A community involves participation, and if the citizenry is so disengaged with their neighbours then we don't really have a community.

I can get a picture of Timmy, no problem.

What I need is a pic of the freak who is spitting on and threatening women and minorities. Apparently he is a skinny little F**K, partial to halter tops and womens jeans. If you get a pic, send it. I will be more than happy to pass it along.

We all need to take responsibility for the quality of the community in which we live and if we don't, the lowest common denominator will dominate.

While I can't yet get Spitter Guy, I can get "Timmy".

It is not solely the task of government to protect the safety of the streets in our community. The job belongs to all who dwell within, in unison with the cops.

I say we all work together.

Anyone with me?

http://www.goyestoeverything.com