I’ve been in Hogtown for a couple of days now. Just in town to see a concert, then I’ll be back off to Vancouver.
Haven’t done too much over the last few day except wander around downtown, ride some streetcars and the subway, and mainly veg out.
Yes, I used to live “here” and by “here” I mean on Canadian Forces Base Downsview in North York.
We arrived here in April of 1983 after fleeing my apprehension by Alberta social services.
We first lived at 94 Sunfield Road in the Lower Dividend Houses that were on lease to the CAF for use as military housing. In the fall of 1983 my family was moved to our new PMQ #223F Stanley Green Park that was located on the base itself.
I moved out of the PMQ and off the base in late 1987 just after I had turned 16. So in actual fact I only lived on Canadian Forces Base Downsview for 4 years even though my father had been posted to CFB Downsview for 7 years.
The base is long since gone. It’s now a public park with a subway station in it.
Everything that I knew from 1983 until 1990 is pretty well gone.
I don’t know anyone out here, and to be honest I didn’t really know anyone back then either.
Places that I used to frequent as a teen on Queen Street West like Active Surplus and the other electronic surplus retailers have long since disappeared. Replaced with fine fashion and sneakers.
I often wondered over the years how things would have worked out in 1990 when I had about $40k in the bank from a 6 month contract job.
Somehow my father found out that I was in the process of trying to rent an apartment. “I’m getting my final posting back to Edmonton. I’d like you to move with us. We could try to be a family again”.
He wasn’t interested in trying fuck all. He figured out that I had some money in the bank and now it was time for me to pay him back for all of the years that he looked after my brother and I as kids.
I was a dumb 18 year old at the time. Couldn’t figure out why I was paying for all of the food and gas and stuff on the move from Downsview to Griesbach, but Richard wanted to keep the receipts “just in case”. If I was a betting man, I’d say that he submitted all of the receipts to DND for reimbursement. I know that he claimed me on his taxes even for the years that I wasn’t living with him.
I don’t know how things would have worked out had I stayed.
Far too many memories of people like Earl Stevens.
I got sexually assaulted so many times in Toronto.
I don’t know how, but the pervs always find the damaged kids and fuck them up even more. Couldn’t tell my father about Earl. Couldn’t tell my father about the man from Funland arcade. Couldn’t tell my father about the guy on the subway. Couldn’t tell my father about Al M. either.
Riding around on the subway earlier I remembered something that Scott had said about riding the subway for hours on end just to kill time. I did that myself. Get on the Subway at Wilson, find a seat, and just basically ride from one end to the other and back. And then get on the Bloor – Danforth line and ride from Kipling to Kennedy.
Back in the ’80s you could stay on the subway petty well all day and as long as you changed trains periodically, no one would be any the wiser. And as scrawny as I was back then I could easily pass for a couple years younger so it was something like $0.25 to kill the day.
I even got off the train at the Yonge Southbound platform to reminisce of all of the times as a kid that I wanted to jump in front of a train but just couldn’t work up the courage to do so. The layout of the Bloor-Yonge station gives the perfect running start.
Adam, who was a fellow cadet in Sea Cadets had asked me to never kill myself by jumping in front of a train because his father was a motorman and apparently jumping in front of a train fucks up the motorman a lot.
When you come from a family like mine you did anything you could to get the fuck out of the house and away from Richard.
As I walk around Toronto I’m not really filled with nostalgia for the place.
I remember my time downtown spent just wandering aimlessly trying to kill time. Except for places like Active Surplus, I didn’t really go shopping or browsing anywhere. With no money for food or for entertainment and no ability to make friends, Toronto wasn’t really a “home” as it was a distraction.
Maybe that’s why I’m not overtaken by feelings of nostalgia but instead feelings of sadness, despair, and boredom.
Anyways, going to see my concert and then I head back to Vancouver.
Don’t ask me what the concert is like. I keep this shit to myself.
I really don’t share this stuff with anyone as I don’t like to be judged or ridiculed for my taste in music.
Beeshive 