If you remember Michale Moore’s 2003 documentary Bowling for Columbine, this is the neighbourhood he filmed to represent what a slum looks like in Toronto. Now I’m proud of my city, and Moore is right, even our slums aren’t that bad, but this is not one of them.
Archive for April 11th, 2012
Walking up Church St. the other day I noticed this neat mural on the side of an unimpressive building. Toronto’s mayor is against all forms of street art and has vowed to clean up the city. Ummm… it’s already pretty freakin’ clean. Our mayor is stupid though, and no one on his council likes him.
Anyway, I was happy to see a little Buenos Aires in Toronto, and I missed Saturday’s scouring (irony intended) Latin America’s version of Paris for more of its special brand of personality.
If Toronto is willing to learn a lesson from BA and make art more accessible to the masses, I’m all for it. I look forward to see how it measures up.
I first discovered Rufus Wainwright in 1998 when I bought his self-titled debut album, which to this day, remains my favourite from his impressive catalogue of music. I was 18/19-years-old at the time, living independently, paying my own bills and embracing my sexuality. I needed role models, good and bad, to remind myself that I wasn’t alone. Growing up gay in the suburb of Brampton I felt isolated, as though there were no other people like me. I looked to out gay celebrities to identify with. Looking back I realize how sad it all was, but at the time, I needed a light in a very dark tunnel to reach for. I grabbed at anything, because I needed to connect. I’m glad I did.
In 2001 Rufus opened for Tori Amos during her Strange Little Girl Tour. Keith and I never miss a Tori concert and we were doubly excited to see two of our favourite musicians in one night. After the concert we jokingly went to Remingtons on Yonge Street. Sitting in the front row with his entourage was Rufus Wainwright. I nearly lost my mind with excitement and kept repeating, “It’s Rufus Wainwright, it’s Rufus Wainwright.”
Not wanting a rabid fan to ruin his time, he collected his belongings and left the venue. I didn’t care, I was just so happy to see him!