@TOPDOGMAYOR: Wow.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Fucking wow.

@TOPDOGMAYOR:  Don’t think that guy will be finishing the race. What a shame. : (

@TOPDOGMAYOR: It breaks your heart when an athlete is injured like that.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Toronto salutes Boston, city of Bravery, Brawn, Brains and Beans and Lettuce.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: We are all Boston Beans today.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Fucking hate terrorists.

@TOPDOGMAOR: White or brown terrorists? Send in your votes!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Should decide this once and for all on the football grid, like men!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Who is your favourite football player? Free parking spot to person who submits best answer.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Authorities saying bomb was made from Crock Pot full of nails and BBs.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Like my Crock Pots to be full of chili. LOL.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Can’t believe they canceled Bruins-Pens game. Must be very serious situation.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Toronto, you are safe, I am at the helm.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Probably won’t go to Florida this week, but if I do, contact: councillor_dford@toronto.ca in case of emerg.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: So many heroes. Like that guy in the cowboy hat.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Free lifetime parking spot in Toronto for guy in cowboy hat!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: He is a cowboy, on a steel horse he rides! Guns N’ Roses, man, Guns N’ Roses.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Suspects in bombing ID’d!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Wouldn’t want to be wearing white ball cap in Beantown today!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Hope Ben Afflect makes movie about this. Argo ruled!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Now donning Red Sox baseball cap in honour of victims. Suggest you do the same.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Send poison in the mail to this Mayor, expect a world of trouble.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Elvis impersonator terrorists, I am watching you.

@TOPDODMAYOR: Some cop killed in wild shootout at Harvard!!!

@ TOPDOGMAYOR: Evil doers carjack classy Mercedes and knock-off 7-11!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: It’s like a Tarrantino flick. Completely fucking awesome.

@TOPDOFMAYOR: Heart goes out to family of fallen hero.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Hope guy with cowboy hat gets involved and kicks ass!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Really like to see Uma Thurman character involved, too.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Not a movie, but feels like movie.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: HUGE FUCKING SHOOT-OUT IN BEAN TOWN!!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: One Borat guy now dead, looking for other!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: All of Boston shut down! Fucking love Boston!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Love to be mayor of Boston. Got big, brass balls!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Dead guy was athlete. Shame when athlete dies young, even if terrorist athlete.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: @Dougford Can’t delete last Tweet. WTF???

@TOPDOGMAYOR: MAYOR FORD DOES NOT CONDONE TERRORISM IN ANY FORM, EVEN BY ATHLETES.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Other Borat now hiding in boat. On land. What a moron!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Interesting. Boston seems to be doing fine without mass transit. Must be saving a shitload.

@TOPDOGMAYOR: No vowels in the Borat names. Weird. How do you say them??

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Little Borat captured!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Great day for Boston, great day for freedom!!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: Bet they riot in streets in celebration! Love to be there!! Go Boston!!!

@TOPDOGMAYOR: USA!!USA!!!USA!!!

Appearing listless, she perked up when we approached and became animated at the sight of Heidi. I steered the dog toward her and the old woman nuzzled her ears and complimented her coat. We fell into the type of brief, friendly conversation you might imagine, “I am 89,” the woman stated flatly. “At 90, no more,” and she made a dismissive gesture, suggesting that would be the end. I asked if there was anything I could do to help her, “No, no. Thank you. I am old. I get tired so I sit to rest. You and nice dog go, I thank you,” and then she fanned us away with short, broken fingers.

A tall man stepped out of the recovery house at the end of the street. He was moving quickly, with anger in each step, and as soon as he hit the street he dug into his pocket, grabbed his smokes and lit one. On his calves were these horrible blotches that looked like a furious rash that was just now coming to order. On the steps above, leaning against the railing and watching him were three men. All of them looked uncomfortable in their scratchy shirts and ties, each one smoking and emitting a sense of deprivation and hostility that was palpable, even on the street beneath.

On Bloor we had the green light to cross but our passage was blocked by a luxury Mercedes that was situated directly in the middle of the pedestrian crosswalk. There was ample room for it to get out of the way and go either forward or back, but the driver at the wheel was distracted. She was texting, and as she was doing so she was smiling—maybe a good idea, the reception of happy news, calming plans. Normally I’d be touched by this glimpse into the small optimisms of a life, but by virtue of the hierarchy her car was designed to imply, all I could see was the sense of blind entitlement money bestows upon certain types of people.

We then popped into Queen Video to return a few rentals. The woman behind the counter, normally an enemy who refused to make eye contact or communicate beyond the rudimentary necessities of the job, was different. Typically sullen and angry, she was open and affable. She had abandoned her usual attire of severe glasses and a Death Metal Tee, and now in contacts she wore a heartbreakingly bad shade of eye shadow and the sort of top that an aunt from Scotland might send to you as a gift. For the first time in the five years that I have been going there, she wanted to give Heidi a treat. She spoke easily, talking of her own dog and a conversation developed between us and several other customers, each one of us saying things that made the others laugh, and whatever love had found the clerk  was now beginning to spread.

Julia,

I know what you’re saying.

One night while in high school my friends and I were driving around in somebody’s father’s Mercedes. We had music blaring out the open windows. All virgins, we were a genial pack of average boys, but we thought we were pretty cool—real catches.

A girl I thought was pretty was walking along the street and I yelled out, “nice calves!” She kind of smiled at this remark, saying something deflective and neutral, and we mistook this for encouragement. We thought that this was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her– a car full of cool guys paying her attention. We drove slowly alongside of her, offering her a ride and attempting a flirtatious posture. She was smiling, but she began to walk faster as this attempted seduction proceeded, and then she began to trot. And when she looked back at us there was terror on her face, and she yelled, “Please, please, please, just leave me alone!”

And then the car was still and quiet except for the music.

It is a moment I have never forgotten.

You were right to say what you did to him.

Always your uncle,

Alan, xoxox