Time again for the country to come to the ice, even if the vice-versa is not quite the case, yet. In Toronto, the thermometer dropped its mercury the first October weekend to help with the anticipation of the NHL’s new season. In Toronto, the chill briefly made the Hockey Night In Canada advertising a little more plausible, all those stern billboard Dion Phaneufs looming over Dundas Square, the shadowy Andrew Ladds striding out of darkness, into the light. But the cold didn’t hold — it wasn’t all the way convinced that it should be hockey season. Maybe out in New Brunswick, where they got a frost midweek, though not so much in Manitoba, home again to the Jets, fine, but also the hottest its been, 31 C, since they started writing these things down in 1871.
October is a crowded season for … well, seasons. In Toronto they’ve all been clamouring for attention. Vote! Give thanks! Don’t forget to figure out a good costume to wear for Hallowe’en! Time, too, almost, for winter tires! Also this was the week the flu started advertising the opening of its season — or no, sorry, it was the flu fighters who were making their case. The commercial I watched was a scary sequence of already pale and miserable-looking urban people grimly infecting one another by means of file folders, handshakes, and close contact on city buses. It made me want to hold my fare and stay home, though I know the intended message is more of an Up you get! Out! Go on! Get that needle into your arm! Continue reading