Month: October 2016

October 25: Autumn is for me at once the most beautiful and the most discouraging time of year. Where Spring can be timid and tentative, a watercolour portrait of the Summer yet to come, Autumn is a full-throated blast of colour that marks the transition to a darker, colder season. It is a reminder that time waits for no man.

We have always prided ourselves as being “the city in a forest”. We had the great fortune of locating a city on a plain crossed by major rivers and the ravines they carved. Our ravines have been a part of our consciousness as the city grew. They provided parks and natural  areas in the heart of the city, while forcing some of our most ambitious engineering projects.

I think many people forget that the city they see every day has not existed for long. As recently as 50 years ago, many of our most prosperous neighbourhoods were farmer’s fields. Those leafy streets that we so admire now, were once muddy croplands with scattered homes and barns. Cities grow and mature, rejuvenate, and, on occasion, become less than healthy.

Raised as I was in central Toronto, I grew up accustomed to the tranquility, security and beauty that surrounded me. The tree canopy that lined the streets and parks of my neighbourhood stood in the background. I recall chatting with my Dad in front of the house many years ago. It was after dark and a “cathedral of trees” lit by the streetlights, stretched down to St Clair Avenue where cars whispered by. This wondrous backdrop disappeared some years later as the “first growth” trees, planted when the subdivision was built in the early 1900’s, all started to die off at the same time. Like humans, trees have a survival cohort – they are planted, grow large and die off at roughly the same time.

I grew up climbing in the steel girders under the St Clair Avenue bridge, which spans the Vale of Avoca ravine about a block from our house. I went back there last week with my camera to shoot some pictures of the autumn foliage and discovered a discouraging scene. Many of our ravines have suffered from overuse and lack of maintenance. Although they are resplendent with large mature trees, there do not seem to be many young trees coming long to take their place. As well, invasive species such as the Emerald Ash Borer are taking a toll, leading to the destruction of large areas of tree growth.

Just as people tend to assume that “the city has always been here”, I think that many assume that large parts of it – like the ravines – will go forward into the future largely unchanged (thousands of new condominiums in some areas to the contrary). I think we have now reached a point where many of our downtown neighbourhoods will lose the majority of their current tree cover and with it, a good deal of their identity. Think of Rosedale without trees ….. nothing lasts forever.

October 25: On my run this morning, I overheard two younger mothers talking about Hallowe’en:

Mother 1: “…and she knows intellectually that they’re not real but she reacts emotionally and she’s so scared…”

Mother 2: “Well, you will have to help her find closure…”

Closure. Really ? It’s probably my spotty memory, but I barely remember my parents walking with me on Hallowe’en, never mind finding closure over some terrorist clown. I thought that the point was to be a bit scared of things and confront them in a safe environment – and to get some candy. There was always candy.

Of course, as I got a bit older, Hallowe’en was also about blowing up pumpkins with firecrackers, soaping windows, putting stink bombs through neighbourhood mail slots, and the old “invisible rope trick”. (Two people stand on either side of the street and mime holding a rope stretched across the road. It’s amazing the number of people who stop…). Mind you, I never actually did any of those things, it was Chris and Harvey, the troublemakers.

Point is: we had some mostly harmless fun at a time when people expected kids to get a bit rambunctious. I’m sure some smaller kids may have been a bit more frightened than I ever was, and perhaps they went on to be serial killers, but isn’t this how we learn how to confront the other – the things we may not be comfortable with or really understand ?

Closure ? Not for me. Send in the clowns, there must be clowns…..

October 1: Who is this guy ? When this car turned up on my street, I immediately wanted to meet the owner to chat about his car. It takes a certain moxie, usually reserved for Subaru WRX STi and Plymouth Superbird drivers, to put an enormous and utterly useless wing (at legal speeds anyway) on a road-going car. And this one has a number too – shades of  “The General Lee” from The Dukes of Hazzard. What’s that all about ?

The graphics package and the wing emulate a car built by an Australian named Paul Henshaw. If the license ( 260 GTR) is to be believed, this is a mid-70’s Nissan 260 with a much-newer GTR motor, neatly upping the horsepower from 150 to somewhere around 400.  Add the Corbeau seats, alloy wheels, tires, and the aerodynamics package, and this guy has spent a huge pile of money to build what is effectively someone else’ car. I understand the whole imitation is flattery thing, but this seems a bit extreme.

Or perhaps not. I recently visited the Guild of Automotive Restorers in Bradford. In 2012, the Guild completed construction of this reproduction 1935 Bugatti Aerolithe. The original car was shown once, at the Earl’s Court Motor Show in 1935, and never seen again. To build this reproduction, the Guild had to digitize and scale off only a dozen or so pictures know to have been taken at the show. The body is entirely magnesium which has the great benefit of being extremely light. However, it’s prone to breaking when bent, and bursting into flames if overheated when welded, so the technicians at the Guild built the curvaceous body by carefully welding longer strips of metal together on wooden jigs. The attention to detail, and the effort devoted to producing the finished car, are astounding. Even the tires are custom made reproductions. It’s worth tens of millions of dollars.

And I understand why someone would spend that kind of insane money on what is to most people just a car. But to see it as a car is to miss the point; it’s a work of art. Beyond the shapes, beyond the colour and the appearance of it, there’s the craftsmanship that turned mechanical pieces and bare metal into something that evokes an emotional response. That’s what art does: it takes you to a different perspective, a different understanding for how things can be.

The Nissan is not a great work of art, but it is one man’s creation that expresses his view of what is desirable and exciting. I too have spent ludicrous money on wheels and tires and bits and pieces to make some of my ( pre-mortgage ) cars more reflective of my taste and values. I may not have the dough to build a Bugatti, but I do know how it would feel to try. After all – I am that guy.

http://autoweek.com/article/car-life/1935-bugatti-aerolithe-re-creation-completed-lost-magnesium-bodied-coupe-replicated