lessons relearned
Friday, September 26 at 5:16 p.m.
i've come to the conclusion that the most important things i learn while i'm at school are actually learned outside the classroom.

take the Crazy Hotdog Lady for example. her hotdog cart is the first you'll encounter as you walk south along St. George from Bloor. it's covered by a blue canvas tent-like cloth with a tarp for a roof. despite her gruff manner, she's really not that crazy. in fact, today she was quite nice to me.

i was turned off by her at first because she insisted that i hand over my money before she handed me my hotdog. but today she gave me the hotdog first and even made small talk as i looked through the various condiments she offers. my good looks and charm have won her over. why are you laughing?

however, i did see someone today that i have no problem catagorising as crazy. i think she was a witch. or at least trying to look like one. she was walking down St. George as i was waiting for my hot dog. she was wearing a green cape and carried a staff with what looked like runes carved all over it. i hope she's just trying to make a fashion statement. nonetheless, that's crazy. and not just because the green of her cape clashed with the blue of her jeans.

speaking of the faux pas. i also saw a guy wearing a Ravens jearsey tucked into his jeans. i felt like taking my backpack and beating him with it. actually, i didn't feel that at all; i just wanted to say that. and while we're talking about my backpack... a white version of it appears in Anything Else. how do i know? i could tell you, but i'd have to kill you if i did.

and here's a song for all my Commie friends - you know who you are. just because i'm not a Commie, doesn't mean that we can't be friends. why can't we all just get along?

Billy Joel

Viktor was born in the spring of ’44
And never saw his father anymore
A child of sacrifice, a child of war
Another son who never had a father after Leningrad

Went off to school and learned to serve the state
Followed the rules and drank his vodka straight
The only way to live was drown the hate
A Russian life was very sad
And such was life in Leningrad

I was born in ’49
A cold war kid in McCarthy time
Stop ’em at the 38th parallel
Blast those yellow reds to hell
And Cold War kids were hard to kill
Under their desk in an air raid drill
Haven’t they heard we won the war
What do they keep on fighting for?

Viktor was sent to some Red Army town
Served out his time, became a circus clown
The greatest happiness he’d ever found
Was making Russian children glad
And children lived in Leningrad

But children lived in Levittown
And hid in the shelters underground
Until the Soviets turned their ships around
And tore the Cuban missiles down
And in that bright October sun
We knew our childhood days were done
And I watched my friends go off to war
What do they keep on fighting for?

And so my child and I came to this place
To meet him eye to eye and face to face
He made my daughter laugh, then we embraced
We never knew what friends we had
Until we came to Leningrad