Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Saturday, September 28, 2024

I'm getting too old for this shit.

Another August, another trip to Toronto. Another bout of planning, hoping, money exchange.

Fan Expo was making its own plans to acquire a number of guests, some of whom would - for whatever reason or another - ultimately drop out of this year‘s festivities: Grey DeLisle, Keith David, Wayne Knight, John Cleese (yes, you read that correctly), Sofia Boutella, Eli Roth and Alan Tudyk. However, the Q*Anon broad from Haywire and Deadpool was making a return appearance so, truly, we are blessed.

Also, there was a matter of finding a temporary living arrangement. No hotels since my money isn’t quite 'hotels!' strong, but an Airbnb. As there is a certain Airbnb experience to which I have become accustomed, I was very finicky this year, looking to find something somewhere a) in the neighborhood of Little Italy and b) that had a television. It wasn’t an easy search, but ultimately, it was fruitful. 

Thursday

Wishing to leave nothing to chance to avoid the woes of previous years…and months…I’m up at 6 in the morning. It would’ve been later, but my alarm…it suffers no slackers. Reruns of “Regular Show” flit about in the background to keep my head together while I make sure everything is packed. (In rewatching the show, you can’t help but notice how Mordecai and Rigby are the true villains in spite of all the weirdos they’ve faced, but that’s a topic to be expounded upon for another time, friends.)

Hoping to get a jump on the day - and a quick breakfast in from Paula's Donuts - I decided to leave the house at 6:45. The plan was simple: scarf down the chocolate honey dip donut and wash it down some chocolate milk as I make my way to the Peace Bridge. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any of my donuts already made. They did have a Bavarian, which is still good if messier and not exactly what I was hoping for. Really hoping this wasn’t a bad omen for the rest of the trip.

Much to my surprise, there are no lines when I get to the Peace Bridge. I endure the whole 'why are you going to Canada?' spiel, responding with 'Fan Expo' and $11 later, I am off.

Even more surprising, the trip down the QEW goes without incident. I get my breakfast eaten, the internet works on my phone and the weather is good. I feel like it’s just a matter of time before shit goes sideways.

Remarkably, I make it to the bus station with plenty of time to spare. I haul my luggage across the street, saying goodbye to my vehicle. It’s not too long before the bus arrives and takes me on my way. The bus ride is a smooth one; so much so that I have no problem watching a movie on my phone: 1946's Shock. A woman is witness to a murder, which sends her into shock and when she comes out of it, she is horrified to find that her attending physician is the killer. Very effective variation on Gaslight that gets a lot done in 70 minutes.

The bus stops at Burlington, leading to me and many of the people on the bus to take the train to Union Station, if not various points in-between. I feel like taking a nap, but it never quite happens. However, given the late night I plan on having, I make an effort.

The train arrives at Union Station. It may be a little early for lunch, but I don’t care. I’m starving and I’m really craving some Jamaican patties. I try to look online for the map of the place to get to Patties Express, but thankfully there’s a stationary map around that gets me there faster.

The meal turns out to be worth it, but it’s not without its bumps. Whether it’s due to the money I'm anxious not to spend too much of so soon or food I’m hoping to eat later tonight, I dither between whether I want one or two patties. I ultimately decided on one, much to the annoyance of the guy at the register. So much for that first impression.

However, the patty is too damn hot to immediately eat so I pack it away and load $50 onto my Presto card or at least that’s the plan. For some reason, the card doesn’t register at the machine, so I use my other credit card that I brought along and load $40. That seems to do the job.

Figuring I'd get a head start on going to Sonic Boom, I take the subway from Union Station to Spadina Station, not realizing that would take me to Spadina Rd. far from my planned destination. This would not be the last time this weekend that I severely misjudged where exactly the subway would go. Still, now’s as good a time as any to eat my patty. Just delicious.

The initial plan was to hit up the city's museums like I wanted to last year. They all happened to be - at least, according to Google - closed, so I would instead start my trip with the bookstore tour, punctuated by stops at various bakeries and ice cream shops. Of course, this was based on my assumptions that the city would be easy to navigate, something about which a half-dozen trips to this city over the last decade have proven me humiliatingly wrong.

Bloor Street West did not seem to have any public transportation going down it, so I guess I'm walking. I make my way to BMV Music and Books. Just as with the previous year, the first part of the store’s title is something of a letdown, more than mitigated by the latter. Leonard Maltin's "Of Mice and Magic" is history, but what I did manage to pick up was nothing to sneeze at: Bruce Campbell's "If Chins Could Kill" (in hardcover to go with "Make Love! The Bruce Campbell Way"), Eddie Muller‘s "Dark City: the Lost World of Film Noir" (only available in paperback, but hey, that’s life) and Robert Evans's "The Kid Stays in the Picture". Another book that caught my fancy: 

Not much to it; just a listing of movies and the composers that scored them, so, of course, it’s catnip to someone like me. I’m not too worried that it won't still be there when I go back.

Not feeling entirely confident that the money was there, I leave behind a copy of Barry Sonnenfeld’s "Barry Sonnenfeld, Call Your Mother". (Fun fact, when dictating this post on my phone, autocorrect registered 'Sonnenfeld' as 'Seinfeld' and there's a blurb from the man on the front. Go figure.) I’ll probably never see the book again.

Sweating like a pig and feeling no desire to travel more than I need to, I message the host, telling her since I'm in town early, I would be dropping in at 1:30pm. (Thankfully, that was allowed.)

There was, much to my relief, a route to my Airbnb from Bloor down Manning Avenue. On the way, I stop at Neurotica Records. Not-Gordon Ramsay is still there and, thankfully, so is the soundtrack section. Check out when I’m managed to get my hands on this year: Eragon, Forrest Gump, King Kong, The Legend of Bagger Vance, The Legend of Zorro and Scent of a Woman.

The house I'm calling home for the next few days is a lovely little place easily accessible by the coded locks on the entrance and into my room. Getting a look around, I am so glad I decided to bring my own soap, shampoo and toilet paper, since none of what's provided can live up to my quote-unquote 'standards'. (In particular, the roll of toilet paper proved to be invaluable. If I had $100 for every time I was in desperate need of having to go to the bathroom to ‘clean the basement’ on this trip, I could’ve easily bankrolled it twice over. AngelSoft, you - literally - saved my ass.)

The room is roughly half the size of my regular bedroom, but it's still quite homey. The television set-up is pretty fascinating. Netflix, Amazon Prime, YouTube, Tubi. You name it, it's here. Unfortunately, it seems to be a BYOP situation: bring your own password. While I have (most of) them, it's kind of disappointing that there's no personal touch to the TV situation, not helped by there not being a cable hookup. In other words, you want to watch Canadian shows on this television, you're SOL.

My suitcase parked and my shirt changed, I settle in on the bed for some net surfing. The laptop comes in handy for the next few days. Of course, I can't stay long. There's stuff to do and money to spend.

My bookstore tour continued on College Street. At Balfour Books, I once again ran into “Call Your Mother”,  so I figured I may as well buy it. I get further up the street and make my way to Sellers and Newel. It is here that I find a copy of "The Film Director" by Richard L. Bare. The man's directed a number of short films, virtually every episode of a major TV series and a couple of motion pictures. I figure this guy’s got to know something, right? The entertainment section was not easy to locate. The store design is something else: the back office also seemed to double as the checkout location and the entertainment section where I managed to find the book was against the wall next to the employee entrance. And if all that wasn’t weird enough, get a load of the name of the proprietor:

Probably not the same one. I didn’t dare press the issue.

The girl at the counter notices the name of the book I’m buying and so, she starts chatting me up about what kind of movies I wanna make. “All kinds”, I blurt out to her (though, given how often my expression of a desire to make movies leads to this question, you’d think I’d have a concrete answer filed away) and then she tells me, “I’ll be looking for your movies”. No pressure there, right?

I get back to my place around the official check-in time and cool my heels for a spell. But not too much of one. I did come here for Fan Expo and for the first time, there were panels on Thursday night that I really wanted to get to.

For example, Narf! Inside the World of Pinky and the Brain. The chemistry between Rob Paulsen and (Toronto’s own!) Maurice LaMarche is as strong as ever and there was even a brief nod to the online debate of which character is which in the theme song lyric “One is a genius/the other’s insane”. My opinion? I abstain.

Just before I leave, I spot a lovely couples cosplay of Joy and Fear from Inside Out (though it takes a few moments to recognize the latter; the sweater ended up being a dead giveaway). I just have to get a picture.

I'd hoped to continue the tradition of Mean Bao the night of a Revue Cinema screening, but they'd moved from their College Street location to Union Station. More on that later. Looking up the city's bao locations, I happened upon a place called Bank Bao. Easy access on Spadina Ave. and there's just enough time between the night's panels to make it there and back on TTC. Life is good.

And this bao is even better. Vina Chicken. Very exotic. Very tasty. I think I’ve made a new friend.

I take the same route back to Fan Expo and head down to make it back in time for From Sallah to Gimli: A Journey with John Rhys-Davies. At the top of the panel, he stated that "I don't believe in soundbites!". Boy, did he live up to that statement. Quite a few people - likely, Lord of the Rings fans - got up to ask him questions and he took it upon himself to answer every single one. At length. This continued well past the point of the panel was set to end: 8:30. I had someplace I needed to be at 9:30 and, even with Google Maps on my side, this was a tight squeeze. At around 20 to 9:00, I just skipped out, mid-answer. For all I know, the panel is still going on.

Given last year‘s trip, I knew I wanted to make Revue Cinema a permanent part of my Toronto experience…and to think, we almost lost it to governmental horseshit. I was a little worried, but I did make it to the theater, thanks to TTC’s subway. (I should also point out that, in the year between my screenings, boutique DVD label Vinegar Syndrome has established a brick-and-mortar location right across from Revue. Pretty sweet deal. See a movie in the theater, then buy it with improved picture and sound so you can see it whenever you like. Sadly, despite my best efforts, I don't make it there in this trip.)

There’s, of course, the pre-show intro and the trailers and the fact that I totally had to have snacks to go with the movie. The line for concessions started in the aisle of the screening room and I was about 20 people behind. Worrying about fire hazards is for dorks. Ultimately, I got my popcorn and soda and made it to one of the last available seats cramped against the wall. You think I would’ve been turned off of coming to the theater, much less watching the movie…and you’d be wrong. 

In the 30 years since its release, Street Fighter has become something of a bad movie classic thanks to the fun characters, ridiculous dialogue and Raul Julia giving it his all as Gen. Bison. I usually like my movie experiences to be a little more sedate, but I tell you, it was almost like being at a concert or a screening of Rocky Horror the way the crowd was reacting. It was an absolute blast and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

From the theater, I head back the way I came for a street car. My TTC app keeps changing the arrival time on me. 'Could there really be this many delays for a Midnight car?', I think to myself. Eventually, the car gets here and spirits me to my Airbnb. Not quite the city that never sleeps, but there’s something of a mysterious (in a good way) feeling to this place, even with the lights being off.

I strip down to a shirt and underwear and get in my bed. The way it’s made, though, it felt like I was short sheeted. I had to adjust the sheet and once I did, I was able to get to sleep no problem. Good night.

Friday

It’s around 6:30. I wake up. Time for my usual routine of…whoop. Yeah, I don’t think I could - much less should - do that here.

The door of one of the other rooms at my Airbnb is open and that’s when I noticed I’m rooming with a girl? Oh, boy. You sure I can’t do that here? Eh, whatever. May as well plan out my day.

After messing around on the Internet, it’s time for a shower. A towel and a hand towel are provided for me. The shower is a little small, but it’s fine enough for what I need to do. I noticed that my roll of toilet paper was on the side of the sink from last night. I must’ve really been tired last night to have forgotten that.

One of the places I planned on eating last year was at Starving Artist, a breakfast/brunch/lunch place that specializes mainly in waffle dishes and that’s just what I need. Thankfully, it’s close by. Packing a few of my books as a counterweight, I get ready to go out.

It’s a pretty nice place; just what you’d expect from a local restaurant. I sat at a table with a barcode taped to the edge. Apparently, that’s where you find the menu, but given that I am an old, I much prefer the folding kind.

Never really heard of this dish called the Monte Cristo, but I figure it could be good. That’s before I saw what kind of portions I would have to deal with.


So, basically, what my breakfast amounts to is ham, turkey and runny cheese on French Toast waffles served with a side of mixed greens and potato salad. To paraphrase a line from “Futurama”, “No combination of those things should be served to people", much less as the most important meal of the day! I would not be joining the Clean Plate Club this morning.

Following that…meal, I’m feeling pretty logy, but I still need to get something to drink for the long day ahead. Shoppers Drug Mart has a nice big bottle of Coke Zero for sale, so that sounds like a plan. I make it to the streetcar, which takes me downtown. I transferred to the car going down Spadina, which leads me to Front St. West and that’s how I end up getting into Fan Expo.

With every passing year, Fan Expo just seems to get more and more crowded, but somehow, I make my way through. Across the bridge to go to the South Building, but it’s moving a lot slower than I expected. Some poor intern has to look the giant red panda suit from Turning Red, causing a giant log jam. You can’t help but feel for the guy.

My first panel today? Animation Nation: A Conversation with Michael Hirsh. The co-founder of Nelvana, Canada’s premiere animation studio for many decades, talked about how he got started and even showed the animated clip from “The Star Wars Holiday Special”; the sequence that put the company on the map and the one part that everyone can pretty much agree is entertaining. Studio director Clive Smith was also at the panel offering remembrances. Unlike at a lot of these panels, I was compelled to ask a question. I mentioned one of Nelvana‘s few forays into live action: the 1993 thriller Malice. Hirsh also brought up the 1987 movie Burglar, which I completely forgot about Nelvana’s involvement with. My question was if there was a project that he really wanted the studio to do but, for some reason or another, it didn’t work out. Hirsh explained to me that for every project that gets released, around five of them don’t get produced. One of them names he let trip off the tongue was “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. I couldn’t even imagine how that would work as a cartoon, but it’d be interesting to see somebody try. Also, just imagine if they lured Tim Curry back to the role of Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Bananas beyond all reason.

Afterwards, I had to drag myself across the property to make it for Too Many to Count! All the Voices of Tara Strong. It must be said that the fans love her and the panel ended in a giant selfie that I was still too tired to get in on. Hell, maybe next time.

The cosplay was, as ever, something to see. King from “The Owl House”, Mabel and Dipper Pines (one of several cross-gender cosplays, on both sides, I witnessed) and Deadpool in a homemade outfit not unlike Peter’s from the first Spider-Man. (There was also a girl who was dressed like Joan of Arc from “Clone High”. I asked for a picture, but she turned me down. She didn’t even seem to notice that she was dressed as a fictional character. Why were you even wearing this outfit and why were you even here? At least the Wednesday Addams from a few years back knew she was dressed as a fictional character. Some people, man.)

Once more across the bridge, dear friends, and on the way, I saw paramedics tending to a cosplayer who had collapsed, likely from exhaustion. I felt like Loomis in Quick Change; It’s bad luck just seeing something like that. (A reaction I would also have to seeing guests receiving tattoos in the North building.) From Boondocks to Star Wars: Spotlight on Rodney Barnes found the writer talking about how he got his start helping out Damon Wayans on Bulletproof and “My Wife and Kids” and how that developed into a medium-spanning career. If only, you know.

Once again, there was a gap in the Fan Expo schedule wide enough to wriggle through to snag a Korean corn dog from Chungchun. I head for Union Station and take the train up to what I think will be right next to my location of choice, College Station, but with all the walking and walking I had to do, I was surprised to find that it was right next to Wellesley Station. Live and learn, right?


Your eyes do not deceive you. That is teriyaki sauce, not chipotle sauce like I’ve had before. A brain fart prevented me from recalling that. It tasted…different. Good different, but not quite a match for what I was used to.

I had planned on picking up from last year and checking out the performance of Emily Strikes Back, but then, they switched the schedule around on me and I found myself with a giant hole in the night's schedule that I was, at various points, willing to fill with any number of things (CNE, a bookstore tour, a trip to one of the city's many nerd-themed bars, a Revue screening of Longlegs).

It was then that the head honchos of FanExpo pulled the ace from their sleeve: Marvel Television Presents: Agatha All Along. It looks to luxuriate in the darkness that sat at the edges of "WandaVision" and I’m curious to see how it plays out.

When I got out of FanExpo, I was craving a brownie in the worst way. I looked up 'toronto brownie', then, wanting to spare myself excess hassle, I looked up the website for Second Cup, which the Metro Toronto Convention Centre just so happened to have inside. The brownie was rather cold, but I couldn’t wait for it to warm up. I took a bite. Okay, better to wait a little bit. I refresh my drink selection by getting an iced tea from Shoppers.

Wanting not to repeat last year’s fuck up, I go to Exotic Snax hoping for some Nacho Cheese Bugles action. Much to my disappointment, they’re gone; almost like they never bloody existed! However, the redhead working the register is so cute, I figure I better buy something, so I get a couple of cookie dough Twix. Not as good as the original, but not bad.

I take a street car of Queen St. West and hit a few more bookstores that I missed out on first time. Sadly, Type and Silver Snail didn’t have anything that interest me book-wise (and the latter turned out to be a comic book shop), But still, walking down Queen St. West is a magical experience. I stopped at Bloomer's, a bakery. Given that it was close to the end of the workday, I probably should not have been surprised that most of the day’s stock was depleted, but they did have some cookies left and sometimes that’s all you need.

No matter if it’s just up the street or to another country, I have this unfortunate habit of forgetting something in my travels. In this case, it was cough drops, but fortunately I was able to stop at 7-Eleven and grab a pack along with a drink and some Reese‘s pieces.

Because a long-term trip to Toronto just wouldn’t be complete without it, I managed to get to Sonic Boom. The trip was primarily to just look around, but in the soundtrack section, I stumble upon Rambling Rose by Elmer Bernstein. I’ve never seen the movie, but if Elmer Bernstein is selling…

My original dinner plans for the night were to try a duck confit pizza from Renaissance Pizza, which was only a stone’s throw away from my Airbnb. As is customary when I plan something, I get way inside my own head (What if I hate the first slice? Then I’m stuck with a nasty ass pizza!). But then, it hits me: “I’m already on Spadina. I enjoyed the food and the service last night. Bank Bao, it is!”


A full meal of Richie Duck and Crispy Fish (it is Friday, after all) baos with a side of fries. We eat like kings.

I settle in for an evening of television…on my laptop. (I had wanted to watch Hit Man on Netflix, but, you know, you need a password.) I watch "What We Do in the Shadows" on Disney+. Hey, Canada. I seek out the episode, "The Cloak of Duplication". Recently, Matt Berry received a well-deserved but ultimately unsuccessful Emmy nomination for Best Actor in a Comedy Series, but Kayvan Novak was on fire in this episode which saw various characters using the titular cloak to take on Nandor’s form and help him hook up with a cute gym worker. It was amazing watching Novak channeling his co-stars' voices and mannerisms. I also caught an episode of the charming but sadly short-lived 80s series "Blacke's Magic".

In the midst of my TV watching, I hear a bump from the other room. I get up from my bed and I ask, “Are you all right?". “Yes”, comes the reply. It’s not exactly sweet nothings but, hey, it's progress.

Saturday

It never hits right that I’m far from home and my ritual of cartoons, which I easily could’ve accessed on my laptop, but never mind.

Much like myself, the girls seemed to be preparing for a long day of whatever. In such a situation, one’s mind can tend to wander, which is to say that their door to their room was open. Fear not. I didn’t see anything that I wasn’t entitled to witness. Just one of the girls looking at herself in a mirror. I said nothing to give away my position while savoring my momentary glance at paradise. 

Unfortunately, they took too long getting ready, forcing me to rush to get myself in order.

I really wanted to spend my pre-Expo breakfast time at Eggspectation, but they required reservations. I have never made a reservation for a restaurant in my entire life and I don’t see that situation changing anytime soon. Need an alternative and quick. There’s this place downtown that might hit the spot: Sunset Grill. I order the Sunset Super with bacon and sausage. Oh…my…God.


All in all, this breakfast was as immaculate as the one from yesterday was inexplicable.

The third day of Fan Expo is often the most busy, so, of course, I have much to do, which doesn’t mean I can’t stop and take in the cosplay: Yzma, Mabel (a different one) and Pacifica, Arkham Asylum Harley Quinn, Cosmo and Wanda, a Rockford Peach (deep cut), Blade, the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Girl, Alex DeLarge and his Droogs, an age-appropriate Doric from Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, Belle from Beauty and the Beast in her ballroom dress and the Dread Pirate Roberts (with a lightsaber!!). Friday, as I made my way inside, I saw a girl dressed as Trixie Tang. I missed my chance at her. Today, I got a pic of her with Timmy Turner. Even as a devoted Timmy/Tootie shipper, I couldn’t not get a picture.

Also, there was a girl dressed as Anastasia from the 1997 movie. I can only assume this was a remnant from the brief window of time when it looked like Don Bluth was coming here. As much as I asked her for a picture, she didn’t seem to want to acknowledge me, so I just snapped a picture of her while her back was turned at one of the vendors. No harm, no foul.

Well, I had to get to my first panel of the day: From Superbad to Superstars: Christopher Mintz-Plasse. He walked us through his career, touching on a lot of the highlights, like getting starstruck by Nicolas Cage and giving as good as he got from Jonah Hill, though I was somewhat disappointed that the remake of Fright Night didn’t get any sort of mention. Oh, well.

For lunch, I decided to stay on the property and avail myself of the pre-food truck food truck that shows up every year outside the convention center. It may not be gussied up like I like, but hey, at least I got to have poutine while in Canada.

Given the many voice actors coming to Fan Expo, I wondered if the show would be doing another script read panel. Lo and behold, the Scripted Remix Presented by Twisted Toonz was real. This year’s movie: The Breakfast Club. On the dais this year: Dee Bradley Baker, Jennifer Hale, Maurice LaMarche and Rob Paulsen, but no Tara Strong. You can’t have everything. (I can't help but imagine that the fifth slot was meant for Grey DeLisle. Just imagine Vicky as Claire.) I wasn’t crazy about Baker’s Daffy Duck in Space Jam, but he proved an inspired choice for Principal Vernon, while Paulsen was a hoot in his brief moments reprising Dr. Scratchnsniff for Bender.

My initial plan was to head for the South Building to take in the 25th Anniversary of Batman Beyond - A Celebration in Music panel. Yes, the industrial synth scoring paled in comparison to the cinema-worthy orchestral scores of "Batman: the Animated Series", but goddamnit, it's a panel at FanExpo Cinema dedicated to film and/or television scoring. A reasonable Republican is the only thing anywhere near as rare.

But then, I figured, shit, the line for Power & Glory: Inside the Action with Dolph Lundgren is going to be stupidly long. (Before the panel, I met this couple that admired my shirt of Marvel characters with different expressions and the girl told me about her dress which was similarly designed. I’m not sure I might’ve - or should’ve pushed it into friendship, but still, fun little situation.) The panel itself is pretty good. He talked about how his relationship with his father led him into martial arts.

As long as I have some time to myself (sorry, Helen Hunt), I decided to check out the vendors on the 700 level. There’s some fascinating cosplay here and some interesting vendors selling all manner of artwork. Oh yeah, and some people are selling comic books as well. Go figure. However, all of this is undercut by the ever-growing frustration I have at trying to maneuver my way through this log jam of people. If there was someway to keep a cap on the number of people that are in this part of the building at all times, I would have no problem making my way through, but somehow I just don’t see that happening.

In the midst of my safari, I happen upon Messrs. Hirsh and Smith once more. Their stands are right next to each other, and I’m fascinated by the subject matter of Hirsh's "Animation Nation", that I decided to buy a copy. That would've sent me on my way, but - sensing blood in the water - Smith pitches his graphic novel to me, "The Rather Unusual Adventures of Ice Cream Girl and Mr. Licorice", which I admit does have an interesting premise, but I wasn’t keen on spending money on his book. He essentially guilted me into buying a copy, so that was the end of that.

Also, among many artists on the side of the hall is Roger Christian, who's worked in a number of capacities on the first few Star Wars movies, but who, when the inevitable obituary comes around, will more than likely be listed as the director of Battlefield Earth, a movie I know solely by its reputation of being legendarily bad. I didn’t think I’d want a 70-something Brit mad at me for dredging up his greatest professional embarrassment. 

On my way out of the building, I noticed character placards for each of the characters from Beetlejuice Beetlejuice along the glass surrounding the escalators on the 500 level. On the far wall opposite them was a character of long hair and a steely gaze from "Lord of the Rings: the Rings of Power" (no, I didn't get his name). Getting a look at the fantasy character, and a look at Justin Theroux's character, I was irretrievably reminded of Your Highness where he played the similar-looking villain. 

After I got out, I made a stop at BeaverTails. Once again, I availed myself of their Bananarama. It's still pretty good. I also noticed that they were selling poutine on a beaver tail, which struck me as a heart attack in a wrapper.

Since I couldn’t get to any museums this weekend, I figured Yorkville Murals would be the next best thing. However, I greatly misjudged where I need to stop on the subway. I started at Union Station and was supposed to stop at Bloor-Yonge. For whatever reason, I ended up at Rosedale. Clearly, paying attention to your surroundings is key on the subway. It took some time to get back in the right direction.

I ultimately got to Bloor-Yonge, but much to my surprise, there turned out to be another few minutes of walking, which I just didn’t feel up to. Hell with this. I’m going home. 

Taking the subway back, I notice a number of unusual accoutrements in the stations on the way.





Good luck finding this level of commitment in most other subway stations.

By now, I’m craving something - anything - for dinner. There’s a place I’d been hoping to dine from for the last couple years. Stuff’d Grilled Cheese and Tots. It’s a few blocks from my Airbnb. It’d be ignorant not to go.

Supreme Tots. For when you want poutine, but not officially. The wait between ordering and the meal being ready was murder, with the pain in my legs and the buzzing bees in a neck-and-neck race for biggest annoyance. Still, one cannot argue the results.


Afterwards, I hop onto a streetcar and head home. No way could I tackle this monster without support from a table.

As part of my own personal Letterboxd challenge of rewatching movies I saw in 2009 (one of several I have going this year!), I pulled up 12 Rounds on Disney+. Definitely a movie whose editing and cinematography are of their time (I look forward to Chris and Rob dissecting it in a hypothetical future podcast episode of “Get Me Another” The Bourne Identity.), but it got the job done for a lazy Saturday night. John Cena was fine, though I much prefer his ‘sense of humor’ period.

Oh, and I did hit up YouTube for the between-movie content of that night’s Svengoolie, Black Friday. One must be consistent.

Sunday

Another peaceful morning. It makes me sick!

Displaying an ultra rare burst of (I guess) courage - and taking to heart that saying that the best time to do something is 20 years ago and the second best time to do it is now - I try to pick my moment and open the door, maybe catching the girls as they head out of the room. Remarkably, the strategy works. The brunette and I exchange a quick "Hi". Really, that’s as far as it goes. The "Hi", like the moment, is gone forever. and I will always be left to wonder if anything could’ve happened between me and the two of them or not. On top of all of that, I once again forget that Shoppers Drug Mart is closed on Sundays. No sody for me.

For breakfast, I had wanted to do Hothouse. Unlike last year, I actually have a fair amount of time before I had to get to my first panel. Unfortunately, I dawdled too much and got going too late. I was forced to scramble around. Saving Gigi hadn’t occurred to me and somehow, I forgot the way to Sunset Grill. I was pretty much just a chicken with my head cut off trying to get to Union Station, where I ultimately end up grabbing a cookie from Craig’s Cookies. It was nowhere near as substantive as yesterday's meal, but given the choice between this and Starving Artist, that’s no choice at all.

Remarkable how Sunday is Fan Expo’s most star-studded day this year. It’s part of the reason I’ll be buying a four-day pass for as long as I choose to attend. Spotlight on Bryce Dallas Howard was an entertaining panel, but the thing that’ll stick with me most is this one gentleman asking her a question about her upbringing and how stable it seemed to be. Can’t argue with the results.

I’m quite gratified to find that many vendors at Fan Expo are still selling Funko Pops. I pick up President Barbie and Tommy Pickles for my sisters. I just know they’ll enjoy them.

The cosplay was pretty sparse, but still impressive for what I could capture: Nada from They Live and a shot of Miss Frizzle and Bill Nye the Science Guy. While riding the up escalator, I tried to get a picture of Bill Cipher going in the other direction, but some freaking moron with a mini-boombox on his head got in the way. I ever see him again, that thing becomes his butt plug.

The next panel was Masters of Their Domain: the Seinfeld Guests Who Stole the Show, which featured Phil Morris (Jackie Chiles), John O'Hurley (J. Peterman), Larry Thomas (The Soup Nazi) and Patrick Warburton (David Puddy) talking about how they got into the business and their careers up and downs. The story about Morris working on a project with his father (Greg Morris of "Mission: Impossible") was particularly interesting.

I was disheartened last year when he cancelled his appearance at the last minute, but The Man, The Myth, The Legend: Spotlight on Danny Trejo came to pass this year. Among other things, an audience member impressed him with his use of Trejo's taco recipe. 

I can only assume that the part of my brain that regulates food choices is shut down, because I don’t even feel like grabbing lunch and dig out one of the cookie Twix and assume that that will satisfying me. Not quite.

I manage to make it in time for one of the more obscure panels: The Owl House Trivia! As one of the people left standing, I am absorbed into the last team. My basic knowledge of the show is helpful in answering at least a couple of questions. Also, the energy in the fandom gathered here is infectious.

Then came a moment I'd been waiting for for five years: A little face time with my own personal ‘The Man, The Myth, The Legend’, Patrick Warburton. But, almost exactly like a real-life version of that one bit on the "Simpsons" episode, "Deep Space Homer", he was leaving; not enough time to talk to him, much less get an autograph for the DVD of Big Trouble I had brought with me. Yes, I was willing to shell out the 80 bucks Canadian, it was that deep. I figured, “You know what? Fuck this. Even if it’s one of him with a stupid mustache, I’m getting a picture of the man!” and so I did. Nyeaaah!

The last panel of the day and of my day was Summertime Spotlight with Josh Gad. The highlight is the crowd doing a sing-along to "In Summer" from Frozen. Pretty good tune. There is an exhaustive energy to this panel as 5 o’clock rolls around; very ‘you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here’.

In the initial conception of this trip, I'd wanted to see There Will Be Blood at TIFF Bell Lightbox as part of a tribute to production designer Jack Fisk, but, in getting this taken care of, I'd forgotten about the screening and by the time I went to purchase a ticket, it was sold out but for one seat. Sometimes, you gotta know when you're beaten and - as often as not - I knew. Even so, I wanted to enjoy a meal at Fancy Franks: a burger, onion rings and a frosty chocolate milkshake (!) for me to drink up.

The grid hadn't gone down for me, but given how turned around I was trying to get going, it felt like it had. Long story short, I ended up at A&W where I was able to get a burger and onion rings and...Coke Zero. Yawn. 

Feeling I would need to replenish myself at some point over the next 24 hours, I stop at an INS convenience store and grab a couple of cans of Arizona fruit punch.

Noticing that my Presto card was nearly depleted (and unwilling to take a chance), I got to the Queen's Park Station and placed another ten dollars on it. This’ll really help with the next sixteen hours…and maybe, beyond that.

I get back to enjoy my dinner, so I still feel a little down about not having the exact dinner that I wanted. That’s just the way I am. That my rings were falling apart didn’t exactly help.

I’m in the mood for another night of laptop television. Same shows, though. Tonight's "What We Do in the Shadows": "Go Flip Yourself". Laszlo is beside himself as he ends up on his favorite home improvement show...the name of the episode. It's reality show-ception and a hoot, especially near the end. I also watched another episode of "Blacke's Magic". You've probably noticed I haven't gone into much detail about the episodes. It's a mystery show (from the creators of "Murder, She Wrote"!), though, as far as I'm concerned, the mysteries are but a mere backdrop for the by-play between Hal Linden (as famed magician Alexander Blacke) and Harry Morgan (as his con-artist father, Leonard).

That’s about it for the day.

Monday

One last yawn and stretch in a strange place. Despite the unfortunate television situation, I would enjoy another few days in this place. As convenient to my travel needs as last year’s Airbnb and quite secure.

Dirty clothes, new books, other things…I need to make sure everything is packed away. Forgetting to bring something on a trip is one thing, but forgetting to bring something home? I would lose my mind.

The Monday of last year’s trip led me to Saving Gigi’s for a breakfast sandwich and this year? The same place.


Too warm to eat at or near the restaurant, I have to bring it back. Besides, that’s where the beverages are. This sandwich is, as ever, a gift from the Gods.

Everything is ready to go in my suitcase and backpack, the bed is made fairly neatly and, expectedly, my virginity is still vacuum-sealed. I get a few pictures of the place and I am off. My next stop is 7-Eleven for a drink and some kind of local snackage.


Thanks to a Twitter thread, I was inspired to snag a bag before I went home.

A streetcar ride later, I am down at Eaton Centre. Damn good thing I gave myself a lot of time, because it’s three floors. This place is freaking massive. Well, the top floor is being reconstructed, but the two that were available to the public...wow. Way more expansive than any of the malls we have back here at home. I had to make my yearly trip to Craig’s Cookies, but I never quite got around to my preferred location on Queen St. West, but thankfully, there was one here in the mall. I grab a half-dozen mix of chocolate chip and Reese's Cup. Still good. I guess someone on city planning realized that a place this massive should have something to do with the subway and so, from here, I take the train to Union Station but not before I drop a dollar in a homeless man’s cup.

It’s about 11:30 when I finally get to Union Station. Mean Bao, which I fell in love with last year on College Street, had migrated to a place here. I bought a bao, but it was wrapped in foil, not presented in a little container, and on top of that, the staff here was rather rude and inattentive. The honeymoon is over and given that I have a new lover in Bank Bao, this one just seemed all the more sour. 

It occurs to me that I didn't get a souvenir for my mother. Enter Peace Collective, where they sell very much the same stuff as the gift shop outside of the convention center. Nice guy working there, too. I pick up a mug. One of these days, I need to get something different.

I’m done at about ten after noon and I spend the rest of the time waiting for my train to show up charging my phone, which - let’s face it - is the smart play here. 12:40 comes along and I make my way to the platform for the train. I try to get a nap in, but Ontario is just too damn scenic. Oh, well.

I get to Burlington Station and wait for my bus. After getting past a rather annoying busybody of an old woman, I get to the bus. The good news is that it’s not making any stops. It’s going right to the Niagara Falls Station. The bad news is that there are any seats left and it’s gonna be a long time before any open up, so I’m pretty much on my feet the entire time. Thankfully, my phone is pretty well-charged, so I can listen to my 'Songs from movies' playlist on YouTube to distract from the pain in my legs.

Finally, we returned to the bus terminal and I can sit down in my car. I head towards Quiznos for my beloved Turkey Bacon Guacamole meal. I do my best to hide the bounty so I don’t get singled out at the border.

A half an hour of driving on the QEW takes me back to America and thank the Gods that the border crossing is as incident free as it was to get into Canada. I’m a little tired, a little poor, somewhat wiser, but I am home again.

If I'm being perfectly honest, this trip - while it had many fine moments that left me feeling euphoric - made me just so frustrated. Pushing through crowds to get to where I want to go. There are some things I just don't have the patience for anymore, if not for the next year or so. Also, with the many expenses I owe each month, it is a right pain in the ass to save for a frivolity of this scale; I financed a huge chunk of this trip with credit cards and they need to be paid off, at some point.

And it is for these reasons that I've decided, even if I come into a crazy windfall of cash, that I'm gonna do the 'Tom Hanks in The 'burbs' thing next year and go on a staycation: laze around at home, maybe get some work done, watch a shitton of movies (TCM's Summer Under the Stars FTW) and eat a bunch of junk. Ah, the good life.

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