While driving along Bloor he started to talk about how much things had changed. This, a safe conversational starter for men past a certain age.
What used to be there.
What’s there now.
All the things we had known and lived.
And so we shared our wonder at the velocity of the world overtaking us, of all the businesses popping up on the blocks passing by and the real estate prices that had long since soared beyond our reach. Each aspect of this conversation revealed an unresolved bitterness in the man, a sense of having missed out, and then a car cut him off. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, “DID YOU SEE THAT ASSHOLE?!”, he shouted as he accelerated into traffic. I tried to say something neutral yet supportive in tone, and then in an attempt to distract him from his rising fury, I asked where he’d most like to live if there were absolutely no limitations.
After some struggle, he offered up San Diego, but this only served as an entry point for a long, detailed story about being on a cruise ship with his ex-wife, getting ripped-off at the bar, and the fist fight that ensued. “They didn’t know who they were dealing with,” he said to me, his voice a cold, flat hiss.
And then we came to a red light and stopped. It felt like the barometric pressure had changed, that some destructive potential was either gathering or dispersing inside the car. And so we sat there quietly, lonely now in ways that could not be acknowledged. And beside us at the red light a beautiful young woman idled on her bicycle. When her eyes accidentally fell upon us, she quickly averted her gaze, just as we knew she would.
And then the light turned green.
She stood up on her bike and pedalled confidently away, into the future, I guess, and there was something so sad and beautiful in this, that neither the driver nor I even thought to speak for the rest of the ride.
(Photo credit to the great Lincoln Clarkes)
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michaelmurrayca: We’re finally leaving the cold, dark ice cave of Toronto!
michaelmurrayca: First, passing through the Rosedale Valley of Death. The forest is looming bent and horrible over road, like tree in Poltergeist.
michaelmurrayca: Oh. All of Toronto also fleeing apocalypse city.
michaelmurrayca: Avoid highway unless you find tranquility in stillness. Move through car wash at much greater velocity.
michaelmurrayca: Red tail lights in front of us stretching from here to Mordor. # LikeDeathLava
michaelmurrayca: Time of winter day when everything is the same colour– even salt-wretched cars in traffic jam.
michaelmurrayca: Now moving like pre-twilight wolves through landscape! Oh. Never mind. Traffic jam again. #BoxingDayBestDayOfYear
michaelmurrayca: Empty, Dark Onroutes, like post-apocalyptic tumble weeds, litter the side of highway like reminder of life we once knew.
michaelmurrayca: Very hungry. #Hangry
michaelmurrayca: Port Hope Pizza Pizza is a crime scene. 40 customers, 1 employee. #ThereWillBeBlood
michaelmurrayca: Now full of McDonald Happy Meal. You know how I feel.
michaelmurrayca: Now trapped in an actual parking lot. Feel like punching things.
michaelmurrayca: Now moving as fast as flying dolphins! Our lives redeemed!
michaelmurrayca: Flying dolphins tricked into traffic jam cove! Hate tricks!
michaelmurrayca: 3 hours 46 minutes to not yet Belleville.
michaelmurrayca: My wife doesn’t so much like me playing Nick Cave in a traffic crisis.# BadTasteWife!
michaelmurrayca: Can’t believe wife doesn’t like listening to Sting! # WhoIsThisWoman?
michaelmurrayca: Now playing girl music. #MarriageTipsForTrafficJam
michaelmurrayca: Retract usage of “girl music,” meant “good music.” Very lucky to have wife like Rachelle!#MarriageProTip
michaelmurrayca: Apparently I “yell” when I speak on the phone, and ” should have gotten your (my) fucking driver’s license decades ago.”# whatever
michaelmurrayca: Stony silence for an hour and a half good for both our morale.
michaelmurrayca: Now listening to Christian motivational CD. God wants us to succeed.
michaelmurrayca: Let Jesus be your co-pilot, says voice on CD. No idea how to apply that to a traffic jam.# UselessChristianTips
michaelmurrayca: If I was King of Kings, would create traffic removal trucks instead of just snow removal trucks. #UsefulThingsGodCouldDo
michaelmurrayca: Also, if King of Kings would move Toronto and Ottawa closer together. 3 hour trip regardless of transportation method. #SoSayethTheLord
michaelmurrayca: Just didn’t expect to hit a deer while in a traffic jam. Very demoralizing, especially since deer Rachelle’s spirit guide.
michaelmurrayca: Pretty sure Christmas now very, very ruined.
michaelmurrayca: Very dark stretch of the road, like Cormac McCarthy novel only without spears and fancy language.
michaelmurrayca: Traffic loosening up after Kingston, but now icy and douche trucks everywhere!!
michaelmurrayca: We both tried to love you and the world the best we could!
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This is what is said:
Anna:
On Saturday, at about two in the morning, I stepped into a cab that was blaring opera.
It was completely unexpected and absolutely beautiful. The taxi was speeding through the mild, winter night with such light and joy contained within—we were a dazzling secret. Oh, I did not want to get out of that cab–the two of us, the driver and I, we could have gone until dawn as far as I was concerned. Keep the meter running, cabbie, let’s unroll the windows, let’s pour the music out into the streets and have the stars fall in.
I wish I had moved to Toronto with you, I wish I had loved you better.
RM
]]>In short order he showed up, letting another student out of the car and then waving me in.
Me: Alpas, good to see you! You’re looking well, that’s a spiffy Dashoko you’re wearing!
Alpas: You mean Dashiki, but thank you, my wife bought it for me.
Me: Sorry, Dashiko.
Alpas: Dashiki.
Me: Yes, well it’s way better than that last thing you were wearing, that was ratty. How many wives do you have, anyway? Is it one of those situations where one wife has really good taste in Dashoks and the other doesn’t have a clue?
Alpas: I only have one wife, Michael, just like you. We should start with our lesson now. I will need you to concentrate if you are to improve.
Me: I am focused.
Alpas: Please start. Pull out into the street slowly, remembering to check your rear view mirror and signal.
Me: What?
Alpas: Remember to watch for other cars.
Me: Rachelle and I just got back from Cuba, they’ve got some crazy, beautiful cars there.
Alpas: You are approaching a stop sign, cover your brake.
Me: Yes, sir!
Alpas: It is an All Stop. Do you remember what that means?
Me: All Stop. That sounds like your name, Alpas.
Alpas: No it doesn’t.
Me: Yes it does,
Alpas: Why, because they both start with A?
Me: No, because they both start with AL.
Alpas: Sometimes you are very much like a child, and there is a reason why children are not allowed to drive. They cannot concentrate, that is the reason.
Me: I see.
Alpas: The student I had before you, she has failed the test four times. She cannot concentrate.
Me: So you’re saying I’m like that other student.
Alpas: Yes.
Me: Maybe she’s failed four times because you’re a lousy teacher, have you thought of that?
Alpas: (Sigh) Please watch the speed limit. You are going a little fast.
At this point I glanced down at the speedometer to see how fast I was going and when I looked up a squirrel was darting across the street in front of me. He stood up on his hind legs and stared into my eyes, into my soul.
Me: Sweet Jesus, it’s a squirrel!
There was a little thud.
Alpas: Michael, there are many squirrels in Toronto, do not worry about them. They had a bountiful winter and now some are called home to be with their ancestors. God has a plan for all of us.
And then he put his hand on my shoulder and I knew that our fight was over. Things were different, and I knew that from this point forth things would always be different.
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