Tee-Oh
Having lived in Toronto, I can take in a few frames of a movie and declare: "Oh, that’s Toronto."
"How do you know?" will come the invariable suspicious question.
"Look, that’s Kipling, the end of the Bloor-Danforth line." Or it’ll be "That’s the Bloor Cinema, I have so been in there! I saw the Grease Singalong and Bowling for Columbine there." Or "They’re trying to hide the CN Tower, but those two buildings are First Canadian Place and Scotia Plaza." Or "That’s the E.J. Pratt, I studied there all the time. That’s the reading room! I loved the reading room!"
Um, in fact? Reading something on the E.J. Pratt library? I just found a picture of myself at a computer. Isn’t that weird? Testament to the fact that I spent a ton of time there, seriously.
Anyway, being so familiar with the city, it’s hard not to point out a few buildings when the opportunity presents itself. I almost feel a bit of nostalgia, untempered by the seething dislike I hold for the university. Had I a bit more time to adjust and just live there, I would’ve loved the city. As it was, I was stuck with my snotty, irrelevant cohort who were the collective definition of the word "showboating." I honestly think that, had I not had to put up with them, I would’ve been quite content to live in Toronto for an unlimited amount of time – then again, it’s freezing during the winter, so that might not be a good idea except in the summer (when it was HUUUU-MID).
In all honesty, you can’t completely hate a city that houses the Hockey Hall of Fame. What kind of fan would I be if I vowed to never step foot inside of Toronto’s city limits again?
Toronto, sharing the distinction with Vancouver, attracts a ton of movies for filming. While I lived there, the direct-to-video classic Skulls III (no, I’ve never seen it) was filmed around Hart House; Jon Voight was spotted by a friend during my first Toronto run (Run for the Cure); the Toronto Film Festival evidently produced a truckload of stars who I never saw or bothered to seek out for myself. It’s literally bouncing with Hollywoodishness (is that a word?).
Me? I prefer the cheap yet delicious daiquiris.
Oh, and before I forget: Good-bye March – three is a magic number.
