“Kiss my squirrel.”

As you can probably tell from one of Kathleen Wilhoite’s amusingly nonsensical bon mots from the Charles Bronson vehicle Murphy’s Law, the trip to Toronto - my first in three years - did not go anywhere near as swimmingly as I’d hoped.

The planning went pretty smoothly - packing, scheduling, booking. (I found myself bouncing between Doubletree by Hilton and Courtyard by Marriott, hoping for the former as they had a breakfast buffet. However, my dithering around as the departure day drew nearer cost me the discount price, forcing me to settle for the latter. This feeling of 'good enough' would hang over the entire trip.)

Still, there was...is the threat of a deadly disease hanging over the world and I’d learned, much to my great horror, that there would be no mandatory masking policy at Fan Expo. I couldn't help but be nervous about the many people canceling their appearances for whatever reason: Ming-Na Wen, Kevin Conroy, Lana Parrilla. There was also the broad from Haywire, but was anyone outside of a Kl*n meeting really chomping at the bit to see her?

Maybe, this trip wasn’t such a good idea.

Wait.

“Meet the cast of The Kids in the Hall.”

Okay, so I should probably register for Friday and Saturday. Those are likely the days they’ll be holding a panel.

The usual preparations were made: exchanging American money for Canadian; downloading an app to allow me to get into Canada; purchasing a rolling suitcase since Mom wouldn't let me use the one we have. There was also this website called Tickets at Work that allowed me to get a pretty sweet discount on my hotel. 

Well, this is happening. This is really happening.

Friday

As always, I have to make sure that I have everything that I need for my trip packed away. When I’ve made sure of that, I leave my house and drive toward breakfast: two plain donuts from Donut Kraze, along with a bottle of chocolate milk I bought for the occasion.

I head down the freeway toward the Peace Bridge, but...something new has been added. Ostensibly, there’s this app known as ArriveCAN that you’re absolutely supposed to have on your phone to even have a prayer of getting into Canada. It along with the note from my mother (my car is in her name) means diddly-shit; getting over the border is easy peasy. Geez, guys. Just because you don’t take Covid seriously like you should doesn’t mean you feel the same way about border security.

Following the usual ‘what is your business in Canada?’ spiel and a five-dollar toll, I peel down the QEW toward the GOTransit station in Niagara Falls. It’s not long before I arrive and wait eagerly for what I assume is the train to take me to Toronto. I find myself still at the station as hours fall off the clock; 8 o’clock, 9 o’clock, 10 o’clock. By this time, my dumb ass figures out that there is no train coming. I find that a lot of people are going across the street to the bus terminal and that’s when I figure it out: I was supposed to take the bus. 

11 o’clock rolls around and another bus comes along. Do you know my experience from 2019? I’m a little leery of boarding it, but unlike that one - which was pretty much a rolling sweatbox - the people who constructed this bus seemed to have heard of air-conditioning, making the trip a lot smoother on the way to Burlington.

Between the AC and the scenery, this made for a fun journey, even if trying to watch an episode of "She-Hulk" proved to be a non-starter. I arrived in Burlington and headed down to wait for the train that would take me to Union Station. I really wish I had known this stuff ahead of time. I really wish I had known a lot of shit ahead of time anyway.

Last time I was in Toronto's Union Station, it was 2019 when I went to see Dolemite is My Name. With minutes to go before my train was due to leave, I found out that Union Station had a food court and I swore that I would take advantage of it next time I was in Toronto. There are a lot of interesting choices, but I decided on Loaded Pierogi for lunch. My order was the Godzilla: a base of a mini pierogies with a whole other meal placed on top of it. Really, really good.

Check-in time at my hotel isn’t until 4 o’clock and, by now, it's about 2:15. I figure I’ll get some light traveling done before I’m able to check in. I head up Queen Street West because I'd heard about this location that sells these rare snacks. Sure, they had some snack foods from years ago, but between that, the sickening smell and the various but super sugary flavors of Faygo and, yeah, I’m not gonna purchasing jack shit. Providentially, right next to it is Kops Records and, hey, maybe I can get a jump on my soundtrack buying binge, right? Yeah, there's nothing here. I also try Zoink’s Records and CDs on Bloor Street West. With a name like this, I was really expecting something impressive. No dice.

Check-in time finally rolls around at my hotel: the Courtyard at Marriott. (BTW, the official address is 475 Yonge, but to get to it, you have to turn a corner and then another before you reach the front door. Very little can just be done; there's always something more to do.) Given the walking around I’ve already done and the sweat pouring into my eyes, all I want to do is settle down in my room (519, btw). However, I didn’t just come to Toronto to settle down in my hotel room. Things to see, people to do, yada yada.

Around five-ish, I foolishly figure there’s plenty of time for me to go to one more place, so I end up going to the BMV books on Edward Street. There are quite a lot of books here, even a few DVDs, but sadly not a single goddamn CD to be found.

Now, you think I'd have absolutely no problem using my phone to help me get around Toronto, but the grid must be down or what the fuck ever, because I can't get any bars. This wasn't an issue three years ago. There weren’t any buses running down Yonge Street. I pop into Shoppers Drug Mart for an iced tea. If I'm going to be lost on this journey, I'm not gonna be parched. I tried to catch a cab, but now apparently, I had to call ahead for an appointment to get a cab. Note to self: fuck the cabs in this town. I see what they’re about now. The 6 o’clock hour is winding down. I am nowhere near the convention center. I. Am. Spiraling. I considered turning back but I decided, 'no, I spent all this money and traveled all this way. We're pressing on'. I walk up there and walk and walk and my legs and my feet are just screaming at me. At one point, after taking a bus I assume is the correct one, I find myself without my backpack. No fucking way did that just happen. I’m able to catch up with the bus and get my backpack. Okay, see if you see a group of friends including a few cosplayers walking in the other direction...ah! I really think I’m getting closer. Jesus Christ, help me out here and try and hurry; hurry to make it and...

I had finally made it to Fan Expo Canada...at roughly half-past 7. I'm not sure what kind of expectation I'd had at that point, but the people at the front door would not let me in. The number one reason I even bothered to go to Fan Expo this year and I missed it. If the Convention Centre was overlooking a cliff face, I'd have thrown myself off of it, no questions asked. I tried to console myself with the thought that - if I'd succeeded in going to "An Evening with the Kids in the Hall" - I'd have probably gotten back to my hotel after 10:00pm, splitting open a whole different Pandora's Box...but, no, friends, I fucked up. This is something I will be carrying with me for as many lifetimes as my spirit is allowed to wander this plane of existence.

On the way back to my hotel, I was made keenly aware of two things: a) Toronto has a serious homeless problem, confirmed by witnessing no less than two such gentlemen relieving themselves and b) that aside, Toronto is quite lovely at night. The sights, the lights, the events. And, of course, the food. I popped into a late night mini-food festival and was in awe of the international cuisines being advertised. However, I was honestly looking for something a bit more...familiar, shall we say? I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was an A&W near my hotel. A bacon cheeseburger, onion rings and a root beer. The simple things. That container of ketchup which I’d been saving for another meal on the trip would soon be depleted.

My feet hurting - for the first but not last time of the trip - I make it back and head for my room. In no particular order, I enjoy the meal, flip around the television, surf the net and soak my feet in ice water with the recycling bin and ice from the next floor up.

Dear sweet Jesus Christ in Heaven, let things get better tomorrow.

Saturday

It’s always strange sleeping in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar place in another city. Even stranger is waking up in an unfamiliar bed, etc. I grabbed my computer and looked up the end credits of “The Beverly Hillbillies” on YouTube because its how I start my Saturday mornings. Didn’t feel up to looking for cartoons, though. Sad the things that get bypassed from lack of effort.

Throughout the night, the room was unnaturally cold. I couldn't figure out how to turn off the thermostat near the window. Then I really paid attention to the message on it: 'This unit is controlled by wall-mounted thermostat'. The temperature control was on the other side of the room. Granted, there are bigger design flaws out there, but it's still damn weird.

Another trip to Shoppers Drug Mart for an iced tea, but wait; this one is a mere block away from the hotel. What a neat surprise.

On the way from traveling to my hotel yesterday, I found that there was a Denny’s on Dundas West. Sounds like I got breakfast planned; there’s very little at the Courtyard’s restaurant that’s blowing my skirt up. They don’t have the Super Slam like the American restaurants do, but they do have the option to build your own slam and that’s good enough for me, babe. 

A hop, skip and a jump to the train station on College gives me a day pass, which I’m certainly gonna need. On the bus ride to Denny’s, my attention is caught by a restaurant further up Yonge: Eggsmart. Eh, let’s take a chance. Support local, am I right?

The place is buzzing. The food must be amazeballs. I order the Eggsmart Trifecta: two sausage links, two scrambled eggs and two pancakes along with fruit cup, a side order of home fries and an orange juice to complete the package.

Yeah, eggs were nice, the sausage was terrific, home fries that are always good with ketchup, but then the pancakes. They were burnt and quite inedible, as a result. Why didn’t I make a fuss? I don’t know. But seriously, how hard is it to screw up pancakes? Christ’s sake, I walked away from a Denny’s for this place! Their food doesn’t exactly court a Michelin star, but they at least know not to burn the effing pancakes. The entire meal came out to $24.94. I found myself wanting to break one of the 50s I had. I pretty much took my $25 in change and bounced. The waitress is probably insulted by this quote-unquote ‘tip’ of six cents but, bitch, as far as I’m concerned, you’re lucky I didn’t dine and dash your ass over those pancakes.

The nightmares of last night’s disappointment return afresh. I return to my hotel room, hoping that a shower will wash away the negative feelings. For some reason, I felt that it would’ve been better if I brought my own soap instead of relying on the hotel’s. Turned out to be a good idea, after all. The soap here stung the shit out of my eyes. It may not have had the same effect on my body, but I didn’t feel like taking a chance. Gotta say, it felt nice to shower and not have to worry about a seat behind me or poor circulation in the plumbing.

As ever, I need to load up on a beverage. As I did yesterday, I loaded up on a (big) bottle of Diet (Pepsi) and a brownie from the hotel. It’s not quite iced tea, but it fills me up.

Having learned my lesson from yesterday, I decided to get a day pass from the Yonge and College train station. I head downstairs and take the train up to...well it’s close to the convention center. As expected, there is a crazy long line to get into the center and it’s a good half hour I spend in the line, moving a little bit at a time. After bypassing the obligatory bag check I get inside and head for the line to buy my badge. I don’t buy a lanyard though. Those things are a scam, so thanks to a button on my backpack, I managed to pin my badge to my shirt. Not bad, eh?

Now, in the past, I’ve been nervous about talking to celebrities, missing out on some fascinating conversation. However, last night's imbroglio emboldened me - if not permanently - to make it happen vis-à-vis meeting famous people. I will get to meet The Kids in the Hall. While waiting in line, I surreptitiously took pictures of all the Kids. This phone, for its dodgy internet service, has some pretty neat features such as freezing a moment, so I can pretty much say I got snapshots of them. I shake hands with Kevin McDonald and tell him he’s my favorite Kid. I also pay the extra money to get a selfie with him. I got a couple pictures on my phone. Now, if only I had been smart enough to pull down my mask.

Then it’s off to check out the various booths that are on this side of the bridge. Nothing really grabs my fancy even though there is the usual assortment of knickknacks, T-shirts and horror paraphernalia. (No Gotham Grill, though. Will the tide of disappointment ever be stemmed?) It’s a while before my first panel. Why not cross the bridge?

Yeah we’re packed in like sardines as we cross the bridge and make our way down the various escalators to the 800 level. There’s a lot more artwork and fictional material, much of it artist-based on this side of the bridge. None of which I get to see all that much because I am waiting in line for a slice of Pizza Pizza. It is really good and I am really hungry, but good God. After what feels like a good 20 to 25 minutes, I grab my slice and a soda - diet - and I look for someplace...any place to sit. I take the remaining seat at a table full of other people. I don’t know. Maybe, they get to know me. Maybe, I get to know them. Well, too bad; nothing like that happened.

It’s just about 2:55 when I realize I need to get back to the other side for my panel, but things seem to be running extra slow. At this point, I’m just getting more and more pissed off. I ask where the Michael Rooker panel is and the guy working there tells me where it is. A good 10 minutes after 3, he tells me 'you do you know what time it started?' and I’m like, ‘fuck you!’.

My phone running low on juice, I’m forced to charge it and not get any pictures of Michael Rooker. A good deal less intense than a number of his roles, with a wonderfully flip attitude toward the questions he was asked. It's always fun to see that celebrities, they're just like us.

While I’m on this side of the bridge, I decide to get a little shopping done for the fam. My sister collects Funko pops and I got her a pretty nice Whitney Houston one. It’s not long before I have to hurry up and get to the one panel I got to see in its entirety: Eric Bauza and Friends Saturday Morning Cartoon Special. He and his fellow voice actors wax nostalgic about Saturday morning and how they got their start in the industry. I like when voice actors share the origins of their profession. It seems like it’s a bad time for me to head out but then I remember...

My sister - having wanted to go to Fan Expo to meet Joseph Quinn of the newest season of "Stranger Things" - was unable to because of a lack of funds. I can't help but think that this sequence of events was karma for not bringing her along. To this end, I decide to wait in line to get a picture of Joseph Quinn. Two problems with that: a) my feet hurt from all the walking and b) the line is stupid long. Even so, she should get to enjoy something, so I tough it out. About 45 minutes later, it's my turn. I'm told no posing, but I can't help myself. By the way, Quinn's a pretty good guy; polite (even in the wake of this repetitive and potentially unhealthy situation) and British (which I didn't see coming). I have the chance to get the picture framed, but the guy is just about calling it quits for the night. Eh. Picture frames are everywhere. I'll be fine.

Hardly a surprise, but I'm hungry. I'm craving a sandwich. I remember the Belly Buster from three years prior. It's still on King St. W. Amidst a crowd of guys pouring in, I place an order for a turkey bacon sub. I jump on a series of buses and make it back to my hotel.

Desperate to get clean, fed and half-naked, I hurry toward the elevator, then head for my room. The sub is delicious. It put me in mind, somewhat, of Quiznos' Turkey Bacon Guacamole, only to retreat from the memory; some things I really shouldn't hang on to.

I must really be out of it because I don't even look up Svengoolie stuff on YouTube. To hell with it. I just want to relax. I think I've earned that.

Sunday

Well, here it is. The last full day of my trip and I barely got to achieve any of my goals. Great waste of money. (I feel that now is as good a time as any to point out the TV situation in my hotel room: they have the usual American channels as well as more than a few Canadian channels, namely Teletoon, which I’m pretty sure I watched more than any other channel. I check Disney+ on my laptop which I brought along and wow! Just stuffed with R-rated Touchstone, Hollywood and Fox properties. So good. Why don't the people running Disney+ in the states have balls as big? I guess we’ll never know. I didn’t take advantage of this much improved Disney+. There wasn’t time, but it's fascinating that it was even there, you know?)

One of the few meals on the hotel’s restaurant menu that intrigued me were the Breakfast quesadillas, so I placed an order. It’s not long before the quesadillas are ready and I run them back upstairs. Very tasty and I greatly appreciated the guacamole and salsa that came with it. Sour cream would’ve been nice, but you can’t have everything. A meal this good has to be washed down with apple juice, don't you think?

Following some television, I pop out to the Shoppers Drug Mart for a Coke Zero, then come back for a shower. I finally get out of the room at roughly 11 o’clock and pick up a day pass from College Station. After that, I head out for Bathurst to ride the bus to Exhibition Place.

My itinerary wants me at CNE by 12:30, so I figure I may as well get going. I get there pretty early: roughly ten to noon.

After the usual purchase of tickets (25$ CAN; was it this expensive the last time I was here?), my first stop is the arts and crafts building. Fairly interesting, but not really high on my list of priorities. Eventually, I end up going to the food building. Yeah, big shocker, there, right? Yeah. In spite of a good walk around, nothing really grabs me. I'm interested in another meal, but more on that later. 

I check out the carnival and go for a couple games of skeeball. I never win but there’s something kind of comforting about the game.

I may have bypassed it before now, but I am determined to get on those bumper cars. However, this place has a very weird ticket arrangement: you can only buy four tickets or 22 tickets or upwards of 100 tickets. A bumper car ride costs five tickets. 'To hell with it', I surmise. 'I’ll just buy a 22 set and hopefully, I get good use out of them. I get in the bumper cars after a long wait in line and wow. Some things are better left in the past. I mean, the car really cramped my legs and the constant slamming didn't do my stomach any favors. I just have to wait for the rain to be over, but the bumper car was a moment of joy compared to one of the major rides: Orbiter. One of those rides that lifts you off the ground and spins you around. My vice-like grasp of the safety bar and worried shrieks suggest that the window of my enjoying these rides closed long ago. I drop the rest of the tickets (11 out of 22 spent) and wander off, feeling like Joanna Pettet in that one "Littlest Hobo" episode.

In between cups of root beer, I ride the trolley around the property. I get off near the Food Truck Frenzy happening on the other side of the park. It’s here that I settle in for another round at Get Your Own Taters:

Feeling I’ve had enough excitement for one day, I head for the train station to take me back around the city. I check my watch: 2:30 in the afternoon. Looks like my used record store crawl can begin in earnest. Dead Dog and Paramusic were only slightly better than Friday's trips, possessing soundtrack sections (on CDs) though very deprived.

Neurotica, on the other hand...I’m disappointed I didn’t know of this place before, especially considering it was right near my Airbnb from 2018. The soundtrack section of this place was incredible and there’s so many titles I could’ve bought. Unfortunately, I only had so much money, so I settled on The Marrying Man,  Emma, Fried Green Tomatoes and The Shipping News.

In the midst of my journey, I passed a number of wooded, house-lined side streets that put me in mind of the opening credits of Killer Party and its maddeningly catchy theme song, "These Are the Best Times (of Our Lives)", which you can bet I sang a little bit of.

Then came another stop: BMV Books and Music. I descended the stairs to the used CD section. Following my excursion at Neurotica, the soundtrack section here could only seem a disappointment and was. Among the handful of titles I can recall were FSM’s release of Rozsa’s Lust for Life, the inevitable copy of Ghost from Varese Sarabande and Schifrin’s Enter the Dragon...the expansion released with the film on Warner Home Video back in the late 90s. Of course, I had to get that. On the table end capping the CDs sat a bunch of used books. If they didn’t have the Kids in the Hall in the cover, there was no way I was buying any books on this trip, but then I saw them: "Adventures in the Screen Trade" and "Which Lie Did I Tell?" - right next to each other - from legendary author/screenwriter/God William Goldman. Had I somehow stepped into Book Soup? There is no effing way I was leaving without those two books.

There was also Sonic Boom. To be honest, I didn’t have any real expectation that I’d find anything here. This visit was mainly out of tradition. Once I was done here, I hopped a bus and ended up back on Yonge. A place like Craig’s Cookies is eventually going to have multiple locations, but instead of the original location, I go to the one closest to my hotel. It was in a very...prideful part of Toronto, so they had a lot more unusual flavors left. In addition to the chocolate chip cookies, I decided to get something way off the rez. Cookies stuffed with baklava seemed like a good idea the time.

Ever since I came across the blogTO article, I really wanted to get one of the corn dogs from Chungchun. I waited in a pretty long line, but the girl working the register seemed...not smart. I waited so long for this, there’s no way I was gonna turn my back on it now. I get my corn dog - the potato one - with the chipotle sauce. I’m ready to get out of there and, sweet Jesus, I didn’t even get any napkins for a meal like this. Wow. Good thing there’s a pile sitting on a table. I'm still going back next time. Who knows? Maybe someone better will be working there.

Along with dinner, I stop in a convenience store and grab a two liter bottle of soda. Hey, the things you’re willing to do for your three squares.

I get back to my room and settle in for Hitchcock's Notorious on YouTube. My third time after two different times when things didn’t work out. Pretty good movie. This trip has been up and down. Guess we better get ready for tomorrow.

Monday

The room is still, as if steeling itself for the next meathead to occupy its walls. I get out of bed and throw on some clothes. After a couple of days of fancy, savory breakfasts, I’m in the mood for something simple: Banana bread and iced tea.

Following a shower, I take advantage of Disney+ by watching...James and the Giant Peach. What? I haven’t seen it before. Impressive stop-motion, even if the songs were meh.

With one last check of my luggage - and a few last minute snaps of my hotel room - I check out. Goodbye, Courtyard by Marriott.

I head to College Station and buy a train ticket to Union Station. It suddenly occurs to me that I forgot to get something for my mom. I pop into a store and get her a mug. She’ll like that. I’m sure.

It’s close enough to lunch that I return to the food court. I go for Paramount, a Mediterranean restaurant. How did my last meal go?

Pretty well, I think.

I look at the schedule. No mention of Burlington or Niagara Falls. Just a couple listings for Lakeshore West. Thinking back to checking the GOTransit website a few days ago, the return listings are for 12:15 and 12:45. I make my way up the stairs for the train, only to find the 12:15 just left. No problem. Trains leave all the time. I’ll just catch the next one. The floor’s nice and hard as I wait.

Thankfully, the 12:45 arrives. The seats are far more comfy than the ground. I’m even able to charge my phone for all the good it’ll do me.

I get off at Burlington and head for the bus stop. Myself and a handful of others placed our luggage in the compartment in the rear and boarded. It was a double decker bus and I just had to take a seat in the upper section. The memo must've spread throughout GOTransit. This bus was also air-conditioned. Still no internet on my phone. You can't have everything, as has been drilled into my skull the last few days.

The bus returns to Niagara Falls. Much like everyone left over, I grab my luggage and deboard. I return to my car, thankfully unmolested over the last few days. Unfortunately, I lose the directions back to America from my phone. Thankfully, signs are posted along the streets, leading me back.

Crossing the border to the USA turns out to be as hassle-free as leaving it. Sadly, my phone isn't back to full strength, as I'm driving around Niagara Falls(, NY), lost as hell. Eventually, I find my way to the expressway back to the city and home.

I’m not in the mood to finish this post just yet. If I have any sort of yen to leave the country (or even the house) for a vacation, it is of the utmost importance that I follow these tips:

1. When in your hotel room, call ahead to the places you want to go, so you don’t end up wasting time trying to get to those places and taking your eyes off the prize. (After all, what is the phone in your room even for, otherwise?)

2. Unless it involves a burlap sack and all the colors of the rainbow, there is not a single ride at CNE you need to bother yourself with.

3. Walking everywhere may (theoretically) be good exercise, but it is also disorienting. The town has extensive public transportation for a reason.

4. Maybe stick with a hotel with a reasonable check-in time. For real, if the check-in time for a hotel in an unfamiliar city is 4:00pm and the thing you want to see is at 7:00pm, the universe is pretty much setting you up to fail.

5. One should never assume...unless it involves a bus terminal across from the train station you're parked at.

6. You may only want to do things or go places that are more convenient for you, but such an attitude can rob you of what you really want out of life.

7. Maybe consider a travel companion who can keep you focused on your goals.

Let's see if these rules will be followed. I'm planning on a trip back for next year.