Thursday, 1 September 2016

Art Deco on Bayview

           


            On the Saturday morning of July 2nd, Sundar knocked on my door for the rent. I started counting out the money and realized to my bewilderment that I was almost two hundred dollars short. I re-counted it but it came out the same. Did I lose the money? I finally went to the door to tell Sundar that something had gone very wrong, but almost at the same time I remembered that I hadn’t actually lost any money. I had just forgotten that the bank machine would only give me four hundred dollars on Canada Day. I told Sundar that I’d go out to get the rest of the money in the next two hours.
            When I went to the bank at King and Dufferin it was totally empty of customers, so I got served right away. Since I was out already I decided to get a couple of other things done. I went to the pharmacy to refill a prescription, and while they were mixing it up for me I went next door to Wind Mobile to pay for my phone service. I went back to the drug store but still had to wait for my steroid cream. The guy behind the cash counter was wearing a tank shirt with a map of Texas on the chest and he had tattoos on both arms. He was quite personable but visually it was a striking contrast to the pharmacists in their white coats. When my psoriasis medication was finally ready I was told hat they didn’t have my drug card for that month. It was a day of things slipping my mind, so I went home to get the card.
On my way back out of my building, Sundar was coming in. I told him I’d be just a few minutes. He had a bit of a coughing fit as I was riding away and I was wondering if he’d taken up smoking again after his throat surgery last year.
Back at the drug store, even with my drug card in their hands, there was still a delay. The woman that was putting the codes into the computer had a puzzled look on her face. She walked away to consult with someone. Finally I got my cream and went to unlock my bike.
            My bike was chained to a stand, the other side of which was locked an electric scooter with a very sensitive alarm. It had gone off when I’d put my bike there and it did so again a couple of times while I was unlocking my ride. The alarm made three different noises each time it went off. I found it so annoying that, in hopes that the owner was nearby, as soon as the alarm stopped I deliberately gave the scooter a tap in order to set it off again. I did this a couple of times while wrapping my chain around the crossbar. Just before walking away I gave it another tap for good measure and the scooter said, “Whoop whoop whoop bip bip bip bip awooo awooo!” as a goodbye.
            Sundar came for the rent when I was just finishing up in the bathroom. I shouted “Just a minute!” a couple of times, then came out to give him the envelope. After that I asked him how he was. He shook his head and told me, “Very bad!” He recounted how a day or so before he had collapsed in his apartment and couldn’t move his arms and legs to call the ambulance. He only got help when his friend finally came to the door and heard him moaning. I assume from the symptoms that he had been in insulin shock. He smelled like he’d been drinking as he told me this and he was almost crying when he was telling me that he has no family here in Canada to help him. Everyone is back in Sri Lanka, except for a sister that’s in England.
            That evening I took my bike ride under big, bright, beautiful clouds that made me feel solid and singular, but not heavy. At several points along Bloor street, as I passed the open doors of some bars, I would hear the whooshing roar of the collective reaction to a score or a save in the football game between Germany and Italy.
            I rode to St Cuthberts and Bayview in the Leaside neighbourhood. Turning up the dead end street of Bemey Crescent I discovered one of the nicest looking apartment complexes I’d ever seen. This art deco style collection of buildings, courtyard and landscaped gardens is called Garden Court Apartments and the address is 1477 Bayview. I later looked it up and found that it was built between 1939 and 1941. I left my bike on Bemey, along with my backpack and walked through the courtyard of the complex to its entrance at Bayview, taking pictures along the way. I thought that I might be taking a risk, leaving my bike unlocked, out of my sight, with my wallet in my open backpack beside it, but for some reason I was sure that no one was going to steal my stuff. There were two women and a young man chatting in front of one of the apartments. The women were on lawn chairs and the man was on the grass. As I passed the man said, “Hello!” I told them that their building was one of the nicest apartment complexes I’d ever seen. He said, “Thank you!” as if he’d built it himself, and added, “That makes me feel better!”
            On my way home I detoured a bit and went to the No Frills at Lansdowne and Dundas, where I met Diane Pugen, who was the very first art instructor that I’d ever posed for as a model, back in 1982. With her was her daughter and her little grandson, who was sitting in the kid’s seat of the full shopping cart, as they stood outside the store waiting to unload their groceries into a vehicle. Diane introduced me to her daughter, but I said that I thought that we’d met once many years ago and she agreed that I looked familiar. The occasion had at a class that Diane taught back in the early 80s in the basement of the Architecture Building at U of T. Diane’s daughter was about eighteen at the time and had come to draw. It’s always an interesting feeling to run into attractive women that have seen me naked at a previous time. A car pulled up and a distinguished looking man with a grey beard got out to open up the back for their groceries. I assumed that this was Diane’s husband. We all said good to see you and “goodbye and then I went into No Frills.
            I bought grapes, bananas, apples, cinnamon-raisin bagels, cream cheese and yogourt. I was looking for a good deal on some meat but I couldn’t find anything this time.
            Lansdowne was blocked because of construction, so I went along Dundas to go home by way of Brock Avenue.
            That night I watched an episode of Hawaiian Eye from 1961, guest starring Mary Tyler Moore. She played one of two women claiming to be the daughter of a wealthy man who hadn’t seen his daughter since she’d been small. Moore’s character’s only motive in coming forward as the man’s daughter was that she didn’t like the idea of someone else pretending to be her. The other woman was a little too perfect at being a daughter to be real, so it turned out that Moore’s character was the right one.
This appearance of Moore was around the time that the Dick Van Dyke Show began.
            I had thought that I’d been watching the first season of Hawaiian Eye, but it turns out that it’s the third. Anyway, the first season isn’t available for downloading as a torrent, so it doesn’t matter.

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