Losers, Winners and Wieners

There's little doubt that I've found some great clothes at ridiculous prices at Winners in Toronto. The sleeves are long enough, the prices are Scots-worthy, and the fashion more than acceptable. I've been to all the Winners south of Bloor (SOB) in Toronto. I believe there are seven stores SOB, or something like that.

In Fredericton there is one Winners, but the selection there has been somewhat lacking. I often felt like a loser at the Freddy Beach Winners. To be frank, I felt like a wiener when my shopping forays were unsuccessful, so I started to call Winners 'wieners'.

Initially I referred to the Toronto stores as Wieners too, but my successful track record made me question whether or not I was being fair to Winners.

The point became moot last week as I wandered along Bloor Street West and spotted the Home Hardware store in my picture. To be clear, there is a Winners and there is a Wieners, and I shan't mix the two up in the future.

Another Time Lapse- The View From Our Condo

Another time lapse video shot from our condo. I knew that snow was in the forecast so I thought I'd see how it would look. The snow came late and it was light but it's still kind of interesting.

T.O.Comics

Look! Up in the sky....

It's a bird. It's a plane. It's.....

Well, it's actually a bird and a plane. No sign of Superman. Wait! Who is that Clark Kentish man behind the camera?

Editor's Note: though the man behind the camera may look Clark Kentish with his funky new city glasses, he acts decidedly more Clark Griswaldish. Isn't that right, Russ?


The Mighty Honda Civic

It's not uncommon for me to exclaim 'wow' when I see a flashy car here in Toronto. Typically I'm ogling a Lotus, Maserati or Ford Focus wagon. The other day a car stopped me dead in my tracks. Amazingly, it was a vintage Honda Civic.


Modern Honda Civics have become popular with street racing punks, their parents, dirtballs, Chiangstas, entomologists, and Colin Moore. More often than not, these 'punks' take a car that their parents would drive and they pimp them: tinted windows, low profile tires, Christmas lighting, custom exhausts, spoilers (so apt), and the ubiquitous 13 000 watt stereo with woofers the size of spare tires.

It's hard to believe that the Honda Civic sailed to North America in 1972 looking like the car that you see in my picture. Sharing design attributes with the Tim Bit (1976), they both became perennial best sellers in Canada.

I wonder, in 1972, if people looked at this car and said 'we've got a winner here, folks'. Clearly, it was a Cinderella moment in the annals of auto history, because this ugly cygnet has yet to have its swan song. Honda is still pumping them out by the millions (they're more stylish now).

To put the Civic's success in context we need only to look at what the competition offered at the time. There was the Tobleronian AMC Gremlin (1970). Gone! And the perpetually eleven months pregnant AMC Pacer (1975) that just never delivered. Gone! You know, I'm just not seeing those cars on the street anymore, but if I did, I'd say 'wow'!

At Ease With Socrates

I wish that I had said 'the only thing I know...is that I don't know anything', but I don't know enough about philosophy to be that clever.

This might just be the greatest quote of all times. After reading it, it just loops in my mind endlessly, sort of like a Cyndi Lauper song except markedly less annoying.

Can you think of a better quote? For that matter, can you think of a Cyndi Lauper song?

Mammone

Unless you're Italian, 'mammone' won't mean much to you. It's one simple little Italian word that means 'mama's boy'. Most Italian boys are mammones, and age doesn't seem to be much of a factor.

To make my point, here's our history with the word 'mammone'. A few years ago, Wendy performed in an opera in Philadelphia. She had a colleague who was from Italy. He was the one who kept talking about Pamela Anderson, except in his very limited English he called her Pam-Aye-Lah An-Dewr-Sohn. He also liked to talk about Keyed Rawk, go figure.

That point is irrelevant, really. What was truly interesting was the fact that he was a world class bass, he drove a Ferrari, and yet he lived with his mama. For whatever reason, we started calling Julian 'mammone'. For whatever reason, he didn't seem to mind.

You can imagine our surprise, while walking along Wellesley Street in Toronto, to find a company called Mammone. Mammone Disposal Systems. I'm unclear whether Julian would hire them to dispose of his mother, or whether his mother would hire them to dispose of the mammone.

It really doesn't matter....I just hope he gets a Ferrari.

Better Than Haggis

Scotland has made many contributions toward the betterment of the world. Let's just name a few:

- golf (admittedly, a weak start to my list)
- short, drunk, often incomprehensible people (shares this claim to fame with Ireland)
- bagpipes
- me Mootha
- whisky
- penicillin
- Sean Connery
- haggis
- the Proclaimers
- whisky (worth mentioning twice).

You'd think that Scotland could rest on its benevolent laurels, but apparently not. No, it's now giving Toronto a bar called the Tilted Kilt. I'm a wee bit suspicious that the bar may not be authentically Scottish, so I'm thinking about dropping in for a wee look around.

I assure you that this mission will be based on rigorous scientific observation. I shall observe the use of tartan, the quality of the whisky, the authenticity of the music. And there's one other thing I'm forgetting. Now what was it....? Ah, yes, the lassies!

P.S. Quite frankly I'd be surprised if a single kilt tilter could find auld Aberdeen on a map, let alone bake a beguiling buttery rowie.