JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

The things curiosity will lead you to do… About two years ago, my friend Sarah and I discovered a Detroit-based blog called Sweet Juniper . Among the great photoshoots of the author’s kids parading around Motown in homemade costumes (think Robocop as if it actually was filmed in Detroit ), there was a post with the intriguing title “ An Attempt to Explain Why I Smell Like George Brett’s Gym Bag .” Seems he has a friend who likes giving him unusual gifts—in this case, it was a bar of Grandpa’s Wonder Pine Tar Soap found in a garage. The packaging depicts a trustworthy old-timey white-bearded gentleman. Whether dispensing wisdom at a family gathering or helping the kids put on the show that will save the local library, Grandpa is undoubtedly a pillar of whatever community he produces his manly soap—in this case, suburban Cincinnati. He’s made his acne-and-psoriasis relief aid since 1878 , so it must have satisfied a few customers over the centuries.

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on December 30, 2011.  Opening ad for the Odeon Hyland. The Toronto Star , November 17, 1948 It was a dicey proposition: testing out a brand new movie theatre, and the Shakespearian adaptation that was its opening attraction, by filling the first showing with high school students. It was especially dicey after rowdy teens had recently disrupted a recent festival honouring the Bard at the Eaton Auditorium (now the Carlu). But Odeon Theatres officials felt that filling the new Hyland theatre with students from Northern Vocational High School (now Northern Secondary) for the afternoon presentation of Sir Laurence Olivier’s version of Hamlet on November 22, 1948 was worth any potential mishaps. According to the Star, the kids were alright: The kids at the showing were well-beh