JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

A couple of graveyards have mysteriously popped up a few blocks west of my bunker, such as this one. Since I didn't feel like sticking around the house last night, I drove around the city to see what folks were wearing this year. I intended to snap some pics, but failed to get any decent shots. The best of the lot was this test shot while waiting for two lanes to merge into one on Queen West. There was one factor I hadn't accounted for. Last time I was downtown on a Halloween Saturday night, Church St (and other streets, for all I know) was closed so that everyone had more room to mull around. Not the case this year. I suspect the current police job action played a role. From the comfort of my car, these were the highlights. Church St - half-a-dozen drag queens in full Wagnerian regalia. Maybe they were off to audition for the Bugs Bunny part in a remake of What's Opera Doc? Also noticed the two styles of costumes that reigned across the core: ancient Egyptians

Pathmark Fruit Punch Soda Pathmark, Newark, NJ Package Notes : Dark pink can promises "tropical taste". Drawings of pineapples and cherries in the background. Drink itself is light red in colour. What's It Like? : In the battle between the natural and artificial flavours noted on the front of the can, the latter wins. Overly sweet, tasting closer to bubble gum than tropical fruit. Dumped it down the drain after a few sips. Stains tongue but good. Would You Buy It Again? : Doubt it. It was like going to a bad luau where everything is made out of sub-dollar-store plastic. - JB

Dad was right about most things, right up to the end. While on his deathbed nearly five years ago, one of our last conversations came around to a new guy Amy was dating. I admit, I wasn't always the most supportive brother when it came to earlier relationships, mostly because they tended to be short-lived (or were guys she eventually mocked too). I hadn't met Gavin yet - they'd only been together about a month and I hadn't heard too much about him. Dad told me to be kind, as he sensed she might have found the right guy. He was right. Again. Gavin fit into the family quickly. At Dad's funeral, several people thought he was a relative, as some of his facial features vaguely resembled ours. As time passed, everyone figured it was a matter of time before Amy and Gavin tied the knot. Except for their first photographer going bankrupt and a change in best men, the preparations for the wedding went fine. Amy avoided going bridezilla and one could notice her smile w

( Part One | Part Two ) Before heading off to the final two segments of Croft St, we duck onto Harbord to look at one of the remaining colonies of Val Kilmer heads in the city. Looking north at the entire length of segment #2 of Croft St, running from Lenox to a short alley that leads to Borden St. Lenox St's most noteworthy feature was the Bathurst subway station-themed mural at the NW corner of Bathurst, recently painted over. No more concerned female commuter or old guy leafing through a copy of Fantastic Four #1. The mural had been deteriorating, so it wasn't a surprise to discover its days were numbered. The rear of various businesses along Bloor. Note the obsession with arrows. This alleyway starts around Robert St, then turns into Croft. Looks like there's plenty of parking. A devilish figure welcomes you to the last segment of Croft. Looking north on the final, short segment of Croft, barely half-a-block in length. Hello Bloor Street! We've rea

Sitting outside of Guelph London House shortly before returning to Canada, April 1997. - JB

Tennis has never been a sport I followed closely. For my football/basketball/baseball-fan father, it ranked down there with golf and bowling as sports to watch on the boob tube. I didn't pick up a raquet until high school gym class and proved spectacularly inept. Matches were over in 30 seconds. When Jess offered up tickets to a Davis Cup doubles match up at York, it was hard to resist. Another new experience, an afternoon with friends, etc. Truelove, Janine and I landed good seats, close to the court. They were also directly in the sun. By the start of the fourth set, our faces had started to turn a nice shade of red. We fled to a shady section of the stands for the nail-biting final set. Canada, anchored by Daniel Nestor and Frederic Niemeyer, went down to the wire to beat Belarus in four sets. You could feel the tension in the stands as the teams went into the tennis equivalent of sudden-death overtime. The stands were livelier than I expected, with patriotic cheers all

Is this where west end girls hang out in Toronto? Sorauren, just north of Queen, Sep 17/05 - JB