Experiencing big city rush hour as country village folk. |
Traveling via car in the city of Toronto is not for the faint of heart. Nerves of steel and eyes in the back of the driver's head are prerequisites. We, my three passengers also known as my progeny, and I the chauffeur/referee extraordinaire, encountered traffic that must be unlike anything else in Canada. Its sheer volume is staggering. Its variety is overwhelming. As a coping mechanism, we created names for what we were seeing. (We were from a Near North village with no transit, one traffic light, volunteer firefighters,...in short, far less people and vehicles!) My kids were especially fascinated by the different modes of transportation for cops, or police officers. C.O.W. was our label for "cops on wheels" .Sometimes, we'd refer to them as C.O.B., "cops on bikes". C.O.F. became "cops on foot", or P.O.P., as in "police on patrol". We were amused by S.O.S., "suits on scooters", and annoyed by S.O.B., "skaters on boards". I was especially irked by K.U.T.T.'ers or "kamikaze u-turn taxi'ers". People, pedestrians, walkers, are everywhere! They are a formidable force. I encountered F.L.O.W., "fearless league of walkers". I was alert to G.R.O.U.P., "great riot of urgent pedestrians". The maddening crowd had to be S.L.O.W., "snail's league of walkers". In our attempt to drive out of Toronto the Teeming, we were thwarted by a mob of people choking an intersection . There was no walking, no flowing, no dispersing---only gathering, lingering, waiting . Idling, literally going nowhere, I made eye contact with the backseat passenger on my left. Hearing my gasp, my children were instantly alerted to our close proximity with a celebrity. We easily recognized the relaxed superstar who graciously smiled, winked and waved at us. Dumbfounded, we reacted in kind with huge grins and waves of our own! His presence wasn't entirely inconceivable. I'd heard a radio report that he and his band mates were in Toronto to rehearse for an upcoming show. From our vantage point, we could clearly see a theatre across the intersection. The crowd of expectant fans was completely unaware that the desired object of their adoration was sitting in a car behind them, and unable to reach the venue they were blocking. Irrepressible and bursting to share this exciting news with someone, my eldest, Carrie, scooped up the for-emergency-use-only cell phone and dialled our house number. When my anxious husband answered, fearing news of an accident, his daughter shouted, "Guess what, Dad! We're beside Rick Jagger!" His reply was understandably, "Who the hell is Rick Jagger?" Correcting herself with, "You know... Mick Jagger!", her still unimpressed father was quick with his short reply, "So." I suppose he had to be there. From behind me, an oblivious and impatient taxi driver dared to express his frustration with his cab's horn. What did this cabbie expect of me? My family and Mick were marooned in a rolling sea of people. Neither of us could move. We were at their mercy, waiting for a parting of the waves. Even the celebrity at the root of this gathering was forced to wait. If one pedestrian has the right of way, who can argue with hundreds? Hadn't this cabbie heard of " if you want to get along, you must go along"? Clearly, the star seekers were in control!! I'm sure that to this day, my children remember this memorable back-to-school shopping trip. They experienced fire sales, a fire drill and a smoking singer. Together we'd also survived all the traffic, noise and people Toronto jostled us with. (582 words) |