I'm baaaack...

Phew.

The New York/Montreal/Toronto whirlwind tour is over. I cannot remember feeling as exhausted as I did by the end of that trip - ever. There is something about the quarterly board meeting for work (the New York part this time) that takes every atom of energy I have and handily squashes them into super-logey atoms. It helps when the meetings go well, which I don't really think they did. At least not for me. But - New York was great, busy, sweaty, as usual. I have now been introduced to the "Westin Heavenly Bed", which was made all that much more heavenly by a 40" LCD High Def TV. Ahhh, that's the life. Food at Butter (a Sean-P-Puff-Diddy-Daddy hangout - my main motivation for going, of course....not...) wasn't as great as the room it was served in, and dinner at bouncin' Bobby Flay's Bar Americain was not great. At all.

Montreal isn't worth mentioning as I wasn't there long enough to do anything interesting. Actually, I will give a shout out to Porter Air, the short haul airline based in Montreal. Finally, old style flying, with (complimentary) wine in glasses, truffles, snacks, and stewards in Pink Tartan outfits. And the balls to use a very urban raccoon as their marketing symbol.

So, I worked a couple of days in TO, and hung out for a few more. And before I go on, if you are one of my TO pals and I didn't get in touch, sorry, sorry, sorry. I was too tired, and time was too short. Next time, next time. I spent my first two nights at Rancho Relaxo (aka The Cambridge Suites, the only TO hotel I've found with enough room for me to spread out), followed by a stay with my always unbelievably accommodating friends.

And I had the opportunity to use my new (beloved, oh so beloved) camera - there will be more pics soon, but I've managed to capture a couple of Binettis at breakfast and (yes, you're reading right) Ian Tyson. Not at the same time. And for you naysayers, Tyson rocks. For a 70+ year old, he'd still got it going on, and if I was 60, I'd think he was an incredible hottie. My pal A. was doing sound for him at Hugh's Room, and so I tagged along - we ended up eating with the band (of two, both called Gord) and chatting with Ian as he ate his pork chop, which was actually pretty cool. The chatting, not watching Ian eat pork. I should mention this shot was taken from quite a way back, with no flash, using my camera's zoomerific possibilities. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I'm getting there.


My reaction to being back in TO was interesting. I think maybe it was my zombie like tiredness, but I felt a little more nostalgic for the place than usual. And I was faced with a few things that made me take a good (or bad) look at myself. And with a slightly wry internal laugh, I realize that things I thought had changed over the years just ... haven't. Just call me Quiz-kid, and hand me a towel to wipe the blood from my mouth.

So, I came home. Exhausted and a little ... muddled, and a little sad to leave the big smoke behind. But when I opened the door to a chorus of demanding meows, read the note from my Mum about cat vomit, and sat down for a bit, weirdly the exhaustion started to lift. As did the sadness. But I guess that is what being home is supposed to be about.

And as a complete aside, I cannot help but lose myself in the world of winston. Look if you dare.