Uncle Leslie

As I wander around Toronto, I don't see much humour so I make my own. I laugh at petty things that others might not find funny. I laugh silently for the most part, though often my inner chuckle is met by an outer grimace or smirk. Sometimes even a smile.

Yesterday, Wendy, Julian and I noticed a street sign which someone had 'modified'. I doubt very much that the City of Toronto's Public Works department sanctioned street signs that featured (Uncle) Leslie Nielsen's mug on it. In fact, the person who did this would likely have been charged with mischief had they been caught. Ironically, by defacing the sign they made it more powerful. It got noticed instead of being completely ignored. For this reason, and this reason alone, I decided not to mug anyone or commit a felony.

There isn't a lot of humour at street level in Toronto. People are serious. They have a lot on their minds (i.e. can I afford a house, latte or macchiato, what would I do if there was a storm and Holt Renfrew was shut down for a couple of days?). I'm feeling kind of sombre myself having expressed such heady thoughts. In reality, it's not that bad.

Two days ago I hopped on a city bus. I didn't have a TTC token, only a pocket full of jangling coins. I asked the driver how much the bus cost. His reply..."about seven hundred and fifty thousand." There is hope for this town.