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ragged day

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2003.06.21

I went for a long walk, today, after stopping by the office to help move my desk + associated crud there-on to the other room, where the bosses are assembling a 'data centre'. I eventually found myself on some rail-road tracks that run down the Don valley. I found my way to the pedestrian + cycle path, but there was a fence in between. Following a line of crushed weeds to the fence, I found a board and propped it up against the fence. Then I climbed over.

On the other side, a very brown and very serious-looking young boy was watching me silently. He looked like he disapproved. I told him that he shouldn't go climbing over fences in place because you never know what might be waiting over there. I showed him all of the welts all up my fingers, hand, and arm from where the 'weeds' had stung me. They were stinging nettles.

On the way, I passed by the spot where Toronto's little tent city had once been. It's now completely barren, but there's a unique and priceless highway sign advertising the driving range at the ghastly club/entertainment complex the built at the docks.

rand()m quote

On the endless saga of Rob Ford, mayor of Toronto; "It shouldn't have had to come to this. I'm so tired of getting up every morning and wondering, 'What will it be today?' I'm so tired of giving the benefit of the doubt again and again, only to be let down again and again.... Somewhere a responsible adult has to appear, draw a bright moral line, tell the truth and say unequivocally what won't be tolerated. Somebody has to do the right thing."

—Denzil Minnan-Wong