The following posts were written for my now retired personal blog, Parkway Variety.

infill-trated: the demise of the little old house

April 2, 2018

I live in the Westboro/McKellar Park neighbourhood of Ottawa, Ontario -- a part of the nation's capital that once qualified as borderline-sleepy and perhaps even unremarkable. But the past couple of decades have done the equivalent of a neighbourhood-scale Extreme Home Makeover and it is now arguably the most desirable neighbourhood in the entire city.

Westboro has always had great bones. But now she has Botox too.  One of the staggering realities of living here is the never-ending residential construction. New builds on old, established streets are everywhere, and there's a real cachet associated with them -- particularly the monster detached infill homes that say "I spent 600K on my sweet, century-old, tree-lined lot and then built my 3,500 square foot dream home for another $600K -- I've clearly arrived."

I don't mean to sound bitter or resentful. In fact, I often find myself coveting some of these new builds. But what really sticks in my craw is the relentless slaughter of what I call "little old houses" -- largely of the post-war era, these are homes that are diminutive but eminently functional and not without aesthetic charm. They are modest in size but contribute something that is hard to measure. They remind us of a time when everyone needed much less than they seem to today. And they got along fine. These are homes with built-in spice racks and ironing boards, side doors with milk delivery boxes, no more than 3 bedrooms (tops) and often only one bathroom. And what the homes lack in square footage is often offset by a sizeable yard, where if you're lucky -- there might still be a clothesline and a concrete pad for your patio set and BBQ.

I know that many will argue these homes simply *are* too small for their modern-day family's needs, and that may be so. But I think there is something to be said about looking back and recognizing that living with less *was* once possible and it was actually quite pleasant.

I believe there's a real romance to these little old houses -- so much so, that I document them on Instagram whenever I happen upon one. I see them as a dying breed and I like to honour them in my own little way. You can see a few of those #litteoldhouses above.

It's hard to deny the monetary allure of the lots these little darlings sit on. If the street is zoned for semi-detached, small builders can potentially make a killing -- and many are doing just that. Rarely do you see someone snag a #littleoldhouse and do nothing more than swap out knob-and-tube and give it a lick of paint. They are veritable goldmines -- so long as you ground them to a pulp and build two units in their place.

For now, I'll continue to hold out hope that I'm not alone in my love of these quiet little beauties. And maybe just maybe, a few will live on in their indisputable function and unassuming charm. 

ode to parkway variety

April 12, 2018

Parkway Variety is not just the name of my blog. It's a place from childhood that is tattooed in my memory. Also known as "Player's" due to its exterior cigarette advertising, Parkway was a community fixture in my youth and I remember it fondly. It was the place to go for minor indulgences like a Tahiti Treat or some Popeye cigarettes. On a hot summer's day, I'd get a twin banana popsicle and crack it in half on the bench outside.

What made Parkway extra special was the luncheonette counter at the rear of the store. It had a row of chrome stools and was dotted with a few tables and chairs. I distinctly remember the hard-as-rock encrusted wads of gum that lined the underside of the Arborite countertop.  Standard menu items were things like Western sandwiches and soup-of-the-day, but I went for the Hamilton Beach chocolate milkshakes. The owner, Roy O'Brien (always decked out in a bowtie) made them just the way my Dad insisted they be made --- VANILLA (not chocolate) ice cream, with milk and chocolate syrup. Delicious.

And that Hamilton Beach machine was a marvel to watch. Built to run three shakes at a time, the stainless steel cups that held the frothy delights were generously dented but built to last decades. And when the mixing was complete, there was always too much to fit into one parlour glass, so you had the bonus of extra on the side, remaining icy cold in its steel tank.

Parkway wasn't an overly tidy place. You might even say it qualified as a bit junky. Sun hitting dusty rows of canned soup, boxes of cereal that were likely past their prime, and trinkets and novelties of the tacky variety that never seemed to make their way to the cash register. Perhaps the most notable of these dust collectors was the plaster bust of Elvis that sat in the front window. Always for sale but never sold.

Keeping in line with its brazen advertising of the tobacco variety, Parkway was also the place my parents would send me to on a smoke run. This type of child labour had to be done with a modicum of propriety, so my parents always tucked a note in my pocket. Something to the effect of "Please allow my daughter, Sarah to purchase a pack of Dumaurier Regular. Sincerely, Pam Wilkinson."

Being someone who appreciates certain constants in my life, Parkway provided me with a safe and fun place to exercise young independence. It was always there for me, and I'm eternally grateful for that.

 

breakfast with jimmie

June 26, 2018

A couple of days ago, I returned from a memorable trip to Austin, Texas -- the city that prides itself on its weirdness, the city that in many ways is the political and cultural counterpoint to all other cities and towns in Texas. Progressive, creative and inclusive are all words that come to mind.

I had a grand ol' time. My travel buddies for the journey are both my friends and work colleagues. Five Canadian women who impulsively booked a trip after a couple of glasses of vino back in April. Whatever you do, don't call us lily-livered or pussyfooted.

While we were there for just 3 days, we truly made it count. Among other things, we witnessed the nightly ritual of the bat colony rearing their ugly heads from beneath the Congress Bridge, took in the charm of residential hood turned bar strip, Rainey Street, and made a pilgrimage to the storied Broken Spoke. 

But perhaps most magical of all, we went to see the Jimmie Vaughn Trio at C-Boy's Heart and Soul. We knew we wanted to take in some quality live music, and this was a no-brainer. Brother of the too-soon-gone, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimmie is a consummate pro whose experience dates back to the Jimi Hendrix days, when he opened for the Jimi Hendrix Experience in 1969 in Fort Worth, Texas.

Nearly 50 (yes, FIFTY) years later, Jimmie shows no signs of diminished talent in the face of Father Time. In fact, when he's playing, it's the polar opposite of dementia. The slowest tune he played the whole night was Bruce Channel's "Hey Baby", and I honestly think that was intended more as a respite for the crowd than the band itself.

When the band broke after the first set, Jimmie was kind and generous with our effusive fan girl-ing. I mean, surely that gets old after 50 years. He let us take tons of snaps and drunk-chat his ear off.  Classy as all get out.

As the night wound down, and the show came to an end, we were dehydrated (both from imbibing and dancing), and famished. We said so long to the friends we had met over the course of the night (including Dave and Dan from Toronto -- we called them Double D) and a guy named Kyle who insisted he buy all the Canadians in the house a beer -- at closing time. You know, the bottle of beer that you can never quite polish off because you're so far gone -- but you can't say no.

We made our way out the door through the fog of 2AM and 40-degree weather with food just a couple doors down at the 24hr Magnolia Cafe. Problem was, there was a line-up and a wait. 

But as luck would have it, we caught sight of Jimmie seated at a table with his sweet friend, Melvin. My pal Shelley saw an opportunity and seized it. I cringed a bit inside, not wanting to interrupt the two men and their protein fix, but it was too late. Jimmie's affability shone through once again. He motioned for us to come inside and grab a seat. So the five of us sidled up, dragging extra chairs as we made our way across the restaurant. I was lucky enough to be seated right next to the man himself.

And yes, in case you're wondering, it was a bit surreal. What transpired was both mundane and yet, unforgettable. Mundane in the sense that it was bacon and eggs and friendly small talk with down-to-earth gentlemen, but unforgettable due to the tangent the conversation went off on, and the irrefutable fact that it was a conversation with Jimmie Vaughn.

A little preface before I go on -- up to this point, everyone I spoke to in Austin -- bartenders, Uber drivers, waiters, and even hairdressers were quick to do two things when they discovered we were Canadian -- 1) apologize, and 2) go off on Trump and the current state of affairs in the U.S. 

With this experience fresh in my mind, and what I thought were fairly reliable human instincts, I broached the subject with Jimmie. I can't remember my exact words but it was likely something along the lines of "So, how are you feeling about the current political climate here these days?" Assuming I would hear something along the exasperated, embarrassed and concerned lines of all the other Austinites, I'd spoken to, I was surprised to learn that 1) Trump didn't really seem to rub Jimmie the wrong way, and 2) Jimmie is a Libertarian. 

Talk about a mood killer.

Ok, I joke. But the temperature did drop for a few tense seconds.

"Does this mean you don't like me?", asked Jimmie.

"Absolutely not." I replied. "It's a complex subject."

Then I gave him my entry-level understanding of Libertarianism and said our differences lie in the fact that I don't mind being taxed in order to help others.

I'm pretty sure I just got an indifferent shoulder shrug in response.

But despite our diverging views, I walked away from the experience feeling more human and hopeful than ever. I was still touched by Jimmie's generosity and openness, and I felt, however fleeting and mildly contentious our exchange had been, it ended with respect and fondness intact.

This meant something to me, both in that instance, but also in the bigger picture of life as we know it currently. The world is a bit scary and uncertain, not to mention, divided right now. If more people could engage thoughtfully, peacefully and ultimately constructively, we would all feel a lot more secure about the future that lies ahead.

And, oh yeah, Jimmie paid for our breakfast.

solitary confinement: a window into loneliness

April 16, 2018

Loneliness can be a dreadful thing. The worst cases can bring on crippling inertia, perpetual self-loathing and inner cries of WHY ME. I remember when I was at my loneliest. I was 30 and single, living in a bachelor apartment in downtown Ottawa when the power went out. I was in the dark by myself and I called my Mom in a torrent of tears. It really felt like life couldn't get much worse.

Thankfully, things took a turn for the better and I was able to turn the page on that chapter. But I've always been intrigued and moved by the subject of loneliness. It's a hard thing to admit to battling, and perhaps even harder to soothe and appease if you're on the receiving end of someone's lonely confession. 

I do think if you can wrap your mind around the idea in a different light, that there can be beauty in one's solitary existence. The first step is telling yourself it's temporary. I mean really -- if you don't have hope, what do you have. The second step is patting yourself on the back for braving it and living it. Loneliness requires strength and resilience to endure.

There are some great examples of loneliness in art. Edward Hopper is king.

But there are others. I quite like the Australian-American artist, Martin Lewis - who not so ironically taught Edward Hopper the basics of etching. His use of light is eery and magical. He seems to have a preference for evening depictions --arguably the time of day when loneliness cuts the deepest. And like Hopper, his scenes are largely urban, in cities where the population would appear to be on one's side, but the paradox is that the metropolis can be the loneliest of places.

The setting of the subway and diner has always been a common backdrop for portraits of the lonely. Both locales seem to be ripe for contemplation or just plain melancholy.

According to the hardcore punk musician and entertainer, Henry Rollins - "Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better."

In other words, life is extra poignant when you're drinking it in by yourself.

in defense of kenny loggins

April 24, 2018

Have you heard the term frisson (pronounced free-sawn)? It's a French word meaning "aesthetic chills" -- a pleasant shivering sensation -- a physiological emotional response to certain music. Some have even been known to call it a "skin orgasm." Apparently, it can also happen when viewing works of art, or scenes from a movie or play.

For me, it's limited to music, and any time it happens, it delights me. It's visceral proof that I'm alive and capable of being moved. One such song that does this to me is Kenny Loggins' This Is It, the 1979 Grammy Award winner. My affection for this tune is lost on many. Naysayers chalk it up to cheesy yacht rock, adult contemporary schlock, or elevator music -- with breathy, overwrought delivery by a baby-haired, slight man -- not real music.

Me? I call it a motivational, chill-inducing anthem for life.

(And it doesn't hurt that my blue-eyed soul man, Michael McDonald does back-up on it).

The story behind the song, which was co-written by Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald, only serves to further fuel its effect on me. According to Wikipedia:

At one point in the song's evolution, its melody was underway, but the lyrics were incomplete. Loggins moved it forward after a visit to his ailing father, who had undergone a series of surgeries for vascular problems stemming from small strokes and was discouraged at the prospect of another. His perspective on the lyrics then changed: "'I've got it,' I announced to Michael, it's not a love song. It's a life song.

While I could take or leave some of the lyrics, it's the music and the story behind it that gets me. Frisson often occurs at a point of build-up or crescendo in a song and This Is It delivers it in spades. The lyric that brings it all home for me is this:

Make no mistake where you are. This is it.

Personally, I don't so much see it as a call to "stand up and fight" (although that seems to be Kenny's intended message to his father), as I do a wake-up call to enjoy life. You only have one to live, so live it as well as you can. Good advice, no?

Other songs that have had the frisson effect on me include:

Isn't She Lovely - Stevie Wonder (when he's conversing with his baby daughter, Aisha in the bathtub -- "Get outta the water, baby.")

Kid Charlemagne - Steely Dan ("Is there gas in the car? Yes, there's gas in the car.")

Almost Like Being In Love/This Can't Be Love - Judy Garland (Live at Carnegie Hall) (let's be honest --- pretty much the whole song send shivers of joy from beginning to end, but when one song transitions to the other, that's the frisson-ic epicentre)

In This Love - Ron Sexsmith (hard to pinpoint a specific point in this song - it's just a beautiful life-affirming tale of a solid, well-weathered relationship. Proof that even the plainest of things can feel magical).

Cool, Cool River - Paul Simon (Quite possibly my favourite lyricist of all time). Here's the gorgeous part:

And I believe in the future
We shall suffer no more
Maybe not in my lifetime
But in yours I feel sure
Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm

And these streets,
Quiet as a sleeping army,
Send their battered dreams to heaven, to heaven

Want a bit more scientific info on the phenomenon of musical frisson? This is a good rundown. 

And in the meantime, listen to THIS (is it).

Time for developers to put more care and thought into retail tenants

August 19, 2018

If you live in a city that is riddled with condo development, you're no doubt familiar with the term "mixed-use." If you need a refresher, here is a decent one from Wikipedia:

Mixed-use development is a type of urban development that blends residential, commercial, cultural, institutional, or entertainment uses, where those functions are physically and functionally integrated, and that provides pedestrian connections. Mixed-use development can take the form of a single building, a city block, or entire neighbourhoods. The term may also be used more specifically to refer to a mixed-use real estate development project—a building, complex of buildings, or district of a town or city that is developed for mixed-use by a private developer, (quasi-) governmental agency, or a combination thereof.

Reading that description, it's easy to feel supportive and even enthusiastic about the idea. It sounds quite livable, no?  Well sadly, once you've seen enough of these developments, you realize that the potential of this promise is rarely delivered on. Put simply, it's never as good as could or should be -- particularly when it comes to the businesses that occupy ground level retail. Tenants often fall into the bland but deep-pocketed category of banks or chain restaurant and retail. 

Back in 2012, I waded in on this subject with my hopes and dreams for the Lansdowne Park development in Ottawa. Then in 2013, my rose-coloured glasses came off. Disenchanted and pessimistic, I had basically accepted its fate of being an OSEG-driven vision that would provide ample high-end restaurants of the douche-y, jocular variety -- and just enough interest with the addition of a movieplex and Whole Foods to keep the masses appeased. 

Despite my acquiescence however, I still had a little fire in my belly on the subject. And it was that fire got me in trouble on December 18, 2013 when I expressed my pessimism about the likelihood of smaller, independent retail coming to the yet-to-be completed Lansdowne Park. Working a plum gig in the communications department at City Hall (Lansdowne Park redevelopment partner of OSEG), I made the ill-considered decision to weigh in on a question someone had posed to a city hall watchdog about the retail.  

Within about 45 minutes, my name was ferociously barked over the cubicles and I made my way to a senior unnamed executive's office. The venomous creature wheeled their way to within a couple inches of my face and proceeded to do far more than reprimand. Without outright firing on the spot, they gave me every reason to believe that would be the outcome. “What are you doing tweeting to David Reevely??! I don't know what I'm going to do!", they said with dramatic exasperation. "I'm going to have to call human resources, labour relations, legal and the integrity commissioner!"

I had few words in response and was weak with emotion when I returned to my desk. But one thing I knew for certain was that I could not continue working there. I told my supervisor (who I was quite fond of), gathered my things and left. For good. 

I won't lie. This experience had a big impact on me. I was very shaken by it all, and in many ways felt like a shadow of my former self for quite a while. But I never removed that tweet, and I still feel the same on the subject of narrow-minded, uninspired, greed-driven development that falls flat.

Which is why I was so delighted to discover that Toronto developer Daniels is approaching the retail component of the second phase of their groundbreaking Regent Park development with a fine-grained philosophy. In the August 16, 2018 Globe and Mail piece written by John Lorinc, I was thrilled to learn that much of the ground floor retail is being set aside for burgeoning social enterprises that will be supported by a micro-business mentorship program run by Ryerson University's Ted Rogers School of Management. Rent-free initially, the leases "will build to commercial rents over five years."

And thankfully this progressive move isn't limited to the Regent Park development alone. Others are catching on too -- such as 514 King East (Streetcar) and in the Canary District (KilmerDundee), "where local independent firms – bakeries, fitness and sports equipment retailers and small restaurants – will dominate the at-grade retail-tenant mix." 

Even Ottawa's own Windmill Developments is making its mark, with the addition of a co-working space in their mid-rise Toronto development, The Plant, and a conscious effort to find professional firms "like sustainable architecture or clean energy start-ups" to occupy office space. This is all done with the view to creating a synergistic "ecosystem" where lively, like-minded businesses feed off one another -- whether they be retail, professional, restaurant or social enterprise/not-for-profit.

Perhaps the most promising excerpt from the article is the talk of Toronto's City Hall getting on board with a new way of doing things:

"The City of Toronto’s planning department is also working on guidelines and market studies meant to encourage developers to configure their commercial/retail spaces to be more flexible, with an eye to encouraging this sort of diversity in their projects. According to senior planner Igor Dragovic, the city is looking to foster more “fine grain” retail by developing template designs for smaller and more affordable units, not unlike those envisioned in Daniels’ community commercial program.

Mr. Dragovic and others point out that by figuring out how to generate more varied commercial venues for local entrepreneurs in large new buildings, the city can tap into the broad community-building benefits that have long been associated with main-street retail: vibrant streets, local jobs and small-business development."

Now how about you, Ottawa City Hall? Are you ready to challenge the status quo -- to turn the city/developer relationship on its head for the sake of our built environment's future? 

I sure hope so. Cuz we've produced some pretty dreary stuff as of late.

hopes for lansdowne

September 27, 2012

The news (or absence thereof) of the retail mix that is going to be the new Lansdowne is a hot topic this week. It appears as though there are more than a few gaps and that City Council may have to go on faith that OSEG ( the Ottawa Sports and Entertainment Group) will come through with the promise of a destination that is “exceptional, unique and world-class” – descriptors put forth by the retail consultant report that strongly informed the retail strategy.

In Joanne Chianello’s column this morning, she states with a fitting amount of snark:

(My favourite part of the report: “40% of retailers should be classified as interesting.” I wonder who gets to make that judgment.)

I hear ya, Joanne. Incredibly subjective and (excuse my generalizing), questionable in the hands of OSEG, a consortium simply described as a “group of businessmen” on Wikipedia. (*Careful: a Google search may lead you to the Oslo Society of Exploration Geophysicists – rest assured, it is not they who will be selecting the mix of stores for Lansdowne).

So we know that there will be a Whole Foods (Yes!), and LCBO (not surprising) and a megaplex theatre (shitty news for the nearby Mayfair). But what else? What is going to draw people there and make them experience something a touch different than what they’re used to? And more importantly, bring them back. The list obtained by the Ctizen earlier this year doesn’t give me much hope (Lululemon, Wind Mobile, Sunglass Hut, Milestones…). OSEG said they were “placeholders” or guidelines for the types of stores we might see. My guess? The stores we ultimately will see won’t veer too far from that ilk.

Using Toronto as a source for inspiration, I would hope that OSEG had the smarts and hutzpah to produce something that straddles a small-scale Vaughn Mills (opened in 2004) with the Distillery District (opened in 2003). I say Vaughn Mills because it’s relatively new and appears to incorporate that deceptively charming and folksy marketing strategy of Main Street storefront styling and shopping zones with names like “Small Towns Neighbourhood”, “Lakes Neighbourhood” and “Roadside Picnic Food Court”. So lame! But my gut tells me that’s the direction we’re headed with Lansdowne.

It would be a considerably downsized version of Vaughn Mills. Lansdowne is 360,000 square feet of commercial space. Vaughn Mills is 1.2 million square feet of retail and entertainment space. But less could easily be more in this case. The formula would involve arriving at a mix that appeals to middle and upper middle classes without being too Yorkville-ian. i.e. Balance the Oliver and Bonacini with The Works. Make Joe Fresh the counterpoint to J Crew. Ensure that there is local flavour represented without appearing overly tourist-trap-y. (Bridgehead, Kettlemans, and yes, maybe even Beavertails). Surprise us with a few more stores we don’t currently have in town. Maybe a West Elm (in place of the re-negged Crate and Barrel) and an Ann Taylor LOFT (which is slated to come to Canada, by the way).

Focus even more on the local side of things with the Distillery District as your model. Invite smaller, independent outfits like Victoire and Workshop Boutique to set up shop (with rent discounts and incentives). Consider a “gallery row” of sorts that would feature art galleries and artisanal crafts. Get on board the ever-popular (and here to stay) food truck movement, using Food Truck Eats as your inspiration. Look to our clever southerly neighbours in Brooklyn, New York and be gobsmacked by the enormous success of Brooklyn Flea and Smorgasburg.

I say all of this in hopes that at least one of those OSEG men in suits is earnestly listening and wants to put a collective best foot forward on this massive, neighbourhood-altering, game-changing opportunity.

Because a predictable mix of Starbucks, Sport Chek and Home Sense will only keep me away. And pissed off.

Hopes for Lansdowne Park are dwindling

February 8, 2013

I knew a bunch of men in suits would fail miserably at getting it right. I knew the City of Ottawa was selling their soul at the crossroads of Bank and Holmwood. I just knew it. The retail strategy for Lansdowne Park began to show its true colours on Wednesday when Rexall Drugs, TD Canada Trust and BMO showed up on the list of tenants on Trinity Developments’ website.*

Big players with deep pockets but not much else. They’re joining an equally uninspired but well-heeled lot, including what I like to call the “finest in mediocrity”, Jack Astors and Joey’s.

I wrote about this retail strategy back in September, saying that “City Council may have to go on faith that OSEG ( the Ottawa Sports and Entertainment Group) will come through with the promise of a destination that is “exceptional, unique and world-class” – descriptors put forth by the retail consultant report that strongly informed the retail strategy.”

Needless to say, that faith of City Council has been shaken and now called into question by citizens who give a shit about the future of this prime piece of property that is, at its core, for the people.

It’s certainly not being made by the people. What were dealing with here is a small powerful group with far too much say and not enough care. A group whose shortsightedness travels only as far as their dock in the Muskokas. Long-term vision is not their forte. Thoughtful planning is for chumps. Let’s build this bitch and get on with it is their MO.

Can you sense my anger? I will not go gentle into the night on this one. I’m not stupid. I realize there need to be a few anchors that are flush with cash. But do we really need two banks? And aren’t there more than enough restaurants with artichoke dip and peach Belinis on their menu in this town?

This is a missed opportunity to create something different and memorable. Something for the city to be proud of. Something that will draw people from outside the city to experience it. Unfortunately, it appears to be turning into something that is anything but these things. Essentially it’s a South Keys Shopping Mall with a bit of greenspace. Way to go on the originality, Ottawa. This is hardly shaping up to be something “exceptional, unique and world-class.” I’d love to see OSEG defend these chosen adjectives.

On the positive side, Whole Foods is the one tenant I can get behind. There’s nothing quite like it in Ottawa. Any time I’ve been to Whole Foods, I’ve enjoyed it. And for the record, having a Whole Foods would not in any way diminish my love, respect and patronage of the smaller local outfits (butchers, bakeries, produce purveyors).

And as for Sporting Life, I’m sure Tommy and Lefebvre up the street will be thrilled.

In my previous post on Lansdowne, I talked about what I hoped to see when it was all said and done but I wasn’t optimistic.

I have not yet given up all hope however. In the Lansdowne Park Retail Leasing Report, produced by the J.C. Williams Group in August, 2012, there is a mention of OSEG “recognizing the importance of the inclusion of unique, local retailers to ensuring a distinctive, diverse and interesting retail mix.” 

Apparently there are “numerous smaller retail spaces available.” According to the report:

These spaces are currently un-leased which was anticipated and is to be expected at this stage in the leasing process. OSEG wants to secure the best small independent stores possible for Lansdowne. However, local and smaller retailers will make their location decision most likely 12 months prior to the completion date for the retail component of the redevelopment. This dynamic results from the reality that most small, local businesses do not possess the financial ability to commit to pre-leasing as early as larger retailers and certainly not two or more years prior to occupancy.

This vital component will be OSEG’s chance to show us what they’re really made of. They talk of the financial constraints the smaller businesses are under and how they’ll be latecomers to the leasing game. But when it comes down to it, will the rent be reasonable enough for these type of retail/restaurant options? …

Blumenstudio/Oresta/SuzyQ/The Village Quire/The Piggy Market/Magpie/Peek-A-Boo Natural Toys/The Modern Shop/Canvas Pop/Loam/Fabrications/Emulsify/Green Tree Eco-Fashion

I certainly hope so.

*The list has since been removed. According to David Reevely’s piece in Wednesday’s Citizen, a representative of Trinity Developments said “The list on our website was not intended to convey committed tenants but rather examples of tenants that have expressed interest in Lansdowne and their possible locations within the project,” he wrote. “There have been no additional leases executed other than those that have been previously announced.”

Regardless, it’s safe to say they aren’t thinking outside the box.

p.s. you could have considered these anchor alternatives

Feb 8, 2013

Quick addendum to my previous post, Hopes for Lansdowne Park are dwindling… I know that many sports fans will want something Jack Astors-ish but OSEG should be considering the wishes and palettes of more than just the beer and wings crowd.

With this, I wish OSEG had the smarts to negotiate a deal with one or more of these interesting, successful alternatives:

Pret a Manger – UK-based with several locations in the U.S. Prides itself on “good, natural food” including everything from a “Pole and Line Caught Tuna, Mayo and Cucumber Baguette” to “Mexican Chili Soup with a hint of chocolate.”

Fresh – Toronto’s “original source for modern vegetarian and made-to-order juice.” 3 locations across Toronto. Wildly popular among the health-conscious. Has published several cookbooks.

Salad King – a modern take on Thai food. Features communal seating, hip design and an extensive menu. Known for efficient service and popularity among young folks. Toronto-based. Similar to Wagamama in the UK.

Shake Shack – Hugely successful NY-based burger n’ shake joint with faithful, addicted following. Menu items include “The Concrete Jungle” ( vanilla custard, fudge sauce, bananas and peanut butter sauce blended at high speed) and the “Shack-cago Dog” (dragged through the garden with Rick’s Pick’s relish, onion, cucumber, pickle, tomato, sport pepper, celery salt and mustard).  Has several U.S. locations plus two in Dubai and Kuwait.

Literally, food for thought.

He did it his way

May 18, 2018

Death. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

But in the case of 104 year-old accomplished Australian scientist, David Goodall, it was just what the doctor ordered. Or should we say, just what David ordered. With a last supper of fish and chips and cheesecake, and the uplifting sounds of Beethoven's Ode to Joy, David became a dearly departed -- of his own volition. And with a little help from a lethal infusion through his aged arm. 

David, who was a dedicated voluntary euthanasia advocate, had to go to Switzerland to have said infusion be administered. His home country of Australia hasn't yet legalized death by free will.  Voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide is the practice of ending one's life in a painless manner, by one's own choice. In addition to David's well-publicized death, a Toronto couple recently undertook their own self-directed farewell.

Its controversy centres largely around the grey area of what makes life no longer worth living. I see both sides but I sit firmly on the one where I dictate my own demise. As my father has been known to say, he doesn't see much use in being on earth if "he doesn't know his ass from page 5." This may sound a bit extreme to those of us who have loved ones with dementia and the like, but I totally get my Dad's position. And I firmly believe the choice resides with him. Now, admittedly, if someone doesn't know their ass from page 5, they may not be in the best position to sign their life away, but that's beside the point. 

David Goodall had lived a rich life filled with love and personal accomplishment. He was 104 years old. His eyesight and mobility were shot. He was lonely most days. And according to him, life stopped being enjoyable "5 or 10 years ago." Paradoxically, he was an individual who fought ageism in the workplace to the bitter end, working until the remarkable age of 102, when he was given the boot in the interest of his own personal safety.

Leaving on one's own terms is what it's all about for me. I hope I live a long, fulfilling life filled with love and meaning but I also hope I'm never trapped or hamstrung by the wishes or policies of others.

As Billy Joel once said:

I still belong, don't get me wrong
And you can speak your mind
But not on my time
I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life
Go ahead with your own life and leave me alone

you might as well live

May 12, 2020