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A Tale of Two Cities!

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No, it isn’t that book written by Charles Dickens in 1859 but rather a tale of a city and a village and their likes and dislikes. Toronto has 4 million residents, Westmeath approaching 400. Getting married in the 70’s and consequently capitulated into Canada’s largest city gave me the opportunity to see it through a different lens.

There were so many contrasts, only the most obvious can be listed. The first is hockey: Westmeath had games most nights of the week, free for your watching pleasure, while in Toronto one game costing half a week’s wages – if you couldn’t handle the nose-bleed seats. Luckily my brother-in-law had season’s tickets and frequently passed them over. Two highlights in the old Maple Leaf Gardens was taking my Dad to a few games and the other, seeing my hero Gordie Howe play in his very last game in the Gardens and score a goal at the age of 50 something.

Unlike in Westmeath, there is traffic congestion 24/7. As usually happens, I lived in the east end but worked in the west end. As bad as that was for traffic, any snowfall or rainstorm more than doubled the time spent on the road.  Some drivers with long commutes started their drive to work an hour or two earlier to beat the rush but soon the rush caught up with them too.

There were crowded super-markets, live theater and so on. So many choices of what to do or where to go that by the time a decision was reached it was too late for anything! However, the diversity of so many races and religions intrigued me most of all. In Westmeath everybody kind of looks the same and generally indistinguishable but in the Big Smoke there are so many skin colours that the United Nations comes to mind instantly. Rather disturbing at first, it was only a short time before everything became normalized for me. That’s because I asked many out of interest where they came from. Most said, “I was born in Canada, why do you ask?” Not wanting to be embarrassed so many times, I stopped asking and asked their friend on the side where they had come from. I think I might have learned more about other religions than I did about my own. Everyone had a story! I think per capita, Toronto was friendlier. I was only threatened with violence twice. Both road-rage related – maybe it was even my fault!

Bit There were many museums in the big city but not one staff member knew my name whereas at Whitewater (Ross) Museum all their volunteers knew me and that was more elevating than exhibits on display in any gallery. Volunteers in Toronto think of charitable giving in economic terms while in the valley they are the lifeblood of the communities. Offering a hand to shovel snow or a ride for an appointment could crop up anywhere. In Toronto, you need a twenty in your pocket before approaching someone for help.

Melina Marchetta stated, “City people may know how to street fight but they don’t know how to wade through manure.” Others feel ‘It’s the bright lights versus the boonies’.


Of course there are more opportunities for people to progress in their lives and further their education in the city compared to a safer life with less pollution in the village. Another difference is that if you stand naked on the front porch and the neighbors can’t see you, it’s rural. If you stand naked on the front porch and the neighbors ignore you, it’s urban. Piss one person off in a village and expect the whole area to know. Expect also the whole village to give you the cold shoulder. One move can make you or break you!

My son Brett had four steadfast friends in school years– he still keeps in touch. They all had a different culture; Greek, Spanish, Jamaican and Jewish. Each of them visited Westmeath during my jaunts back home. Knowing only life in the city, they were in a conundrum when up here, especially with no subway system and the sight of cows on the loose in farmer’s fields.

For a long time Toronto was everything I imagined; the glitz and glamour. Eventually my expectations drained and I returned back to Westmeath where there was still some excitement. Or maybe I was just a romantic yearning for the old days!


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