Ben Bull, Columnist –
How is your winter going? Mine is cold and messy.
Winter is not my favourite season. I’m looking out my window at yet another dumping and wondering what to do.
I opened the door earlier and peered down the long white ramp that used to be my steps. They led into an abyss. I couldn’t tell where the sidewalk ended and the street began. Those smooth shapes up and down the road might be cars or they might be people.
Ah well – too late for them now.
Last week I ventured out to help a neighbour uncover her car. I didn’t want to help. I tried looking the other way as she grunted and sobbed outside my window. But then I remembered I had buried her car while clearing the sidewalk, so I thought I’d better make an effort.
Last Monday was ‘Blue Monday,’ apparently, the saddest day of the year. That seems a bit premature. It’s not even February. There is still so much more sadness to come.
I went for a stroll – a stomp – a couple of weeks ago, between winter blasts, and it felt like the whole city was bereft.
The skaters at Nathan Philips Square seemed game enough, going through their circular motions, but you could tell they weren’t really into it. Nobody was laughing or sprinting or spinning or whatever you do when you’re trying not to fall on the ice.
Their faces gave them away. They looked like the mumbling masses lined up to have their pockets picked at the Distillery Winter Fair.
Those forced smiles screaming: We’re having so much fun!
Their eyes wailing: Get me out of here!
The snow ploughs were working hard during my stomp, and it was nice the see the bike lanes and sidewalks getting a little love, but it’s never enough.
Did you know that the Esplanade goes on a diet three months a year? The path is six feet wide in the non-winter months and four feet wide for the rest. (Would it kill the sidewalk snow plough bloke to double back and do another pass?)
My neighbours aren’t much better. When I clomp down the street, it’s always the usual suspects who can’t be arsed clearing their section of sidewalk. These are the same numpties who haven’t managed to nod their heads or say, ‘Hello’ after 18 years of living side by side.
I guess some people feel the chill 12 months a year.
Are we a proper winter city? We still get frozen switches and our bike share racks are never properly cleared. Worse, when the mercury drops, there’s just not that much to do.
Ottawa has the Rideau Canal rink and Quebec City has a funicular. Up north they ride skidoos. If I was out west, I’d probably climb a mountain.
But what can you do in Toronto? We have a few ice rinks, sure, but ice skating is like algebra. If you didn’t learn it when you were young it’s too late to start now.
All my favourite pastimes are fair-weather ones. My hiking boots are hiding under my bed, my mountain bike is gathering moss in the basement.
I’ve tried embracing winter sports, but they always seem to end up with me sitting on my arse at the bottom of a hill.
I am trying to make the most of my mercury-drop-malaise. I have just upgraded from the outdoor firepit I bought last year (nobody told me you had to be two inches away from it to feel any heat) and invested in a hot tent. The tent is great for sitting back and sipping on a hot whiskey. In fact, I’m just about to head out there now but, oh look – it’s collapsed.
OK. I’m going back under my blanket now. I’ll see you in a few weeks!
