I thought this was cute.
When I was little, if I got hurt...whatever hurt me would get a thrashing from my uncle or auntie.
It seems that it's universal.

Who remembers the Palace on Dundas?



It was just like this....

I was there...I didn't stay for the whole thing because it was pouring rain.
They were selling everything from Diana Ross T-Shirts to Diana Ross joints...LOL

Today as I drove up Dufferin, just a little north of the Dufferin Gates I looked at Sweet Daddy Siki's house.

I always do, and I wonder whether he still lives there.

I'm not old enough to remember him wrestling, but I am old enough to know he was a legend in Parkdale.
I remember often seeing him sitting on his porch, or mowing his lawn when I was a little kid.

I never spoke to him or anything, and I didn't know his kids...but, whenever I pass his house, I always wonder if he still lives there.

Here's a recent article on him in Eye Weekly

Turns out that he probably still lives there. I can read between the lines.
Because if he still lives in the house he bought in '62...it's the same house...and it's not on Jameson Ave or Beaconsfield.
The one I drive by often...

Here's a video clip from the very beginning of his career, it looks like.

2 fond memories...I hear Goran Bregovic is coming to Toronto.

The St Lawrence Market



When I was a little girl, my Tetka Ljuba used to get up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays and drag her ass down to St. Lawrence Market for fresh meat, cheeses, and produce.

I used to really like St. Lawrence Market...even up until the late '90's, I remember it still having a European Market feel.


The Mister and me recently made a trip down there solely based on the fact that neither of us had been there for years.
I was disappointed in how overpriced the meats, cheeses and condiments were.
It also has a bit of a cheezy flea market feel to it now.

I dunno.

Sad.

Kensington Market - 1963



Back when I first came to Canada, Kensington Market was known as the "Jewish Market".
Every Saturday, my mother would take me down there so that she could shop.
I would play on a playground on Augusta Avenue until she was done.

At the end of Baldwin was a Yugoslavian Store. When she was done shopping, she would buy Cik Magazine and Ilustrana Politika...I would get some honey cookies or some candies that were similar to the ones I used to get at icko's (EEch-ko's was a candy maker in Petrovo Selo who brought his knowledge to the owner of The Sweet Gallery in west end Toronto...so I'm told), and then we would go home.

Kensington is nothing like it used to be when I was a kid, or even later.
When I was in my early twenties, after we were done clubbing... We would stop by the Jewish Bakery on Baldwin (that is not there anymore) and pick up some fresh kifle, right out of the oven at 4am...even though they weren't officially open, they would still sell you something in the summer.
The front door would be open to relieve some of the heat, I suppose.

There are ways of doing things that are no longer possible.
This...is one of them.

Kikinda



Kikinda (kee-keen-da) is the name of a selo (village) close to where I was born.
I always loved the name of it because it reminded me of something far away.

There is something about certain names that I like the sound of.
Kikinda is one of those.

Here are some pictures of Kikinda

The Mister played this the other night, and I was shot back to elementary school.

Anyone who had a heart...



Warwick/Bacharach...the songs of my early childhood

On Friday night, Mama came to spend the night.
We watched a Serbian movie, and in the background of one scenes the song "Kafu mi draga izpeci" (link to the original) was playing. The two of us sang the song until the end, and Mama couldn't stop laughing because I remembered all the words to a T.

I posted the original above, (as if you care...) but the guy below is the way I usually heard it sung. Drunk and sentimental Serbs at weddings and zabavas:

Rocketalk's post "Last Call" made me think of something that happened a long, long time ago.

When I was in my early twenties, just before I went back to school, I worked in a daycare centre.

There was one young single mom who used to bend my ear. Every time she picked up her daughter, she engaged me in conversation about the various dramas that were unfolding in her life. I knew she was troubled, and so did all of my co-workers.

Everyone that worked there would find something to do as soon as they saw her walk in because no one wanted to be sucked into 30 minutes of therapy with her.
One evening, I was the only one left and was in a hurry to catch the bus for my hour long trip home. If I missed that 6.10pm bus, I'd have to wait another 20 minutes to catch the next one. I just wanted to go home.
She walked in at 5.58pm and started to engage me in conversation about how she was having trouble coping with things, and how depressed she was.

I cut her off and told her that I had to get going.

All I could think about was not missing that bus...and she still had to gather her things together and sort her child out, and I had to do my walk through, and lock up.

The next day, I came to work to find out that she had jumped off of her eighth floor balcony.
The police had to break down the door to get her daughter.

I always wonder what would have happened if I had have missed my 6.10 bus and just listened to her.

In another life, I worked at a restaurant called Cafe on the Park on Eglinton. It was a small cafe that featured up and coming artists. From Comedians like Jim Carrey to Mike McDonald (the Comedian), to performers like David Wilcox and Long John Baldry.

Wilcox always played acoustic when when he was there because there was no room for a band in the tiny place.

Long John Baldry's heyday was long over when he played the Cafe.

I didn't know who he was at the time...being an 18 year old waitress, I just knew he had to have been pretty big in his time...since the owner Ron treated him like a Prima Donna.

I was given a tray with a glass, a pitcher of orange juice, and a bottle of Silent Sam and told to take it up to the apartment above the cafe to Long John about an hour before he was supposed to go on.

When he opened the door, he was dressed head to toe in a green leotard...he looked like a seven foot Peter Pan.
He didn't talk to me...just pointed to a side table and told me to get out.

The end.

My mother used to sing this to me...there was a Serbian version.
Really.

[Murmur] - Hear U Are

[murmur] is a documentary oral history project that records stories and memories told about specific geographic locations. We collect and make accessible people's personal histories and anecdotes about the places in their neighborhoods that are important to them.

What a great project!
I'm thinking I have a few about Parkdale.

Paper Dolls



When I was a little girl, paper dolls were a staple for me.
For a kid who couldn't have all the dolls I wanted, paper dolls were the next best thing.
I spent hours carefully cutting them out, and dressing them up.
The one above is Marlo Thomas from "That Girl"...a sitcom that I watched.

Here is a site with a bunch of paper dolls, some familiar...some, not so much.

Then there are the vintage ones I found...

Rupaul misses Sam the Record Man too!

Drive in Intermission Loops



via Uncertain Times

I don't remember any of those...but, I do remember this one:



...and this one:

"Wade in the Water
Wade in the Water, children...
If you don't believe I've been redeemed
Wade in the Water"

All my life, I've lived close to a body of water.

I can't imagine it any other way.
If I were to move someplace that didn't have water close by, I would miss it terribly.

Every morning, I drive along the lake shore on my way to work, and sometimes I pull into the lot close by the Sunnyside Pavillion and walk through the park to the water and just stand there and look out.

When I was young, I used to walk off of busy Queen Street, and across the walkway over the Gardiner Expressway to swing on the swings facing the water.
I'd swing out and I felt like I was swinging over the water.

I'd climb over the giant stegosaurus in the park and sit there and look out.

There aren't any swings in that park anymore, and last year when they were revamping the park, every morning, as I drove by, I silently begged them not to take Steggy away...'cause you know how Toronto just loves to destroy memories...but they only painted him, and moved him over a bit.

It's comforting to be able to see something, just the way it was when you were small and without a care in the world.

A touchstone.

Joan Armatrading - Love & Affection



God, how I loved her when I was 19.