25 April 2005
In Toronto
Lucky me, I'm in Toronto on the company dime! This is my third time in Canada and my first time in this city.
Air Canada is a little shabby. Some of our plane's electronic systems weren't working, so we had no coffee, tea, or in-flight movie. And breakfast was worse than the typical airline fare: the egg, mushrooms, and potatoes all looked like poor imitations of actual food, with an impotent little sausage slouching in the corner beside a caulk-flavored biscuit. Even the blueberries in the muffin seemed reconstituted. Yucky. At least the orange juice was decent.
Happily, I was met by pals immediately upon arrival. Brendan, Cindy, and Molly took me out to Pacific Mall, a sort of indoor Chinatown on the edge of the sprawling city, where we enjoyed the tastiest vegetarian dinner I've had in a long while.
In the morning, Brendan escorted me to the office, pointing out landmarks and giving me a subway orientation. I'm always grateful for a handy subway! He also warned me not to get lost in the PATH, Toronto's underground warren of shops. Subterranean shopping is popular here due to the frigid winters.
After work, I checked into the fancy-ass Royal York Hotel and freshened up. Emerging from the elevator into the lobby, I found a posse of suited security men, two of whom herded me away from the elevator bank while a third said into his radio, "His elevator is in motion." Curious, I loitered nearby while an older gentlemen and his entourage appeared and were whisked outside to a waiting car. Other guests were snapping pictures, and the hotel staff was standing around, watching him go and grinning at each other.
I didn't recognize the man's face, but obviously others did. "Who is that?" I asked. "Paul Martin," replied a woman from the concierge desk. I had to think for a minute: Where have I read that name? The news.... But before I could make the connection, the woman recognized my searching expression and had a routine response ready: "Our prime minister—sort of like your President Bush!" But what I heard her say was, "Foolish Americans, you're all the same. If I had a good Canadian dollar for every time I've had to explain the concept of our 'prime minister' to you philistines...." Yes, shame on me. But I was pretty psyched once I realized I'd seen a head of state!
I rendezvoused with a couple of coworkers for the Hot Docs film festival. I saw three films tonight:
- Beethoven's Hair
All about the strange journey of a lock of the composer's hair and its eventual high-tech analysis to reveal, finally, the cause of his torments and eventual death. Fun facts from history and science.
- Ravel's Brain
Ravel had a taxi accident, the result of which was the slow decay of the language center of his brain. In his later years, Ravel could hear wonderful music in his mind, but was unable to express it. This one was less about science and more about the melancholy of an composer deprived of his ability to compose.
- Homemade Hillbilly Jam
This one was funny and warm, all about a band called Big Smith, the central members of which are cousins in the Ozarks. My new favorite song goes, "It's been there since this heat wave began / My 12-inch, three-speed, oscillatin' fan."
I'd say my trip is off to a great start. You can see my (unedited, uncaptioned) photos here.