Eye on Bloorcourt Business

 Tick Tock, Anybody home?

A light has been spotted through the cracks of the paper covered windows of Alexandros Bar and Grill. Does this mean we can expect a March first opening? For the past three months, the owners have allegedly been doing some serious renovations on the place, whose once really dingy interior belonged to a nasty nook called Athens’ Astoria. Hopefully, they got super cheap reno-labour and a serious transformation out of their time because, as it appears, they’ve already spent a lot of rent money before even opening their doors to the public.

Speaking of taking forever to commence operations, Shawarma Flames finally served its first customer after boasting a nice graphically designed sign, and locked doors for over two months. Blossington Post reporter, DmD, discovered Shawarma Flames’s first customer and got some feed back as to the quality of food. The proud patron was actually our neighbourhood’s sexiest and wittiest man, Ronald Baker, a.k.a. Pants, a.k.a., Ronny, a.k.a Johnson, a.k.a., Mr. Anderson, the host of The Ronald Baker Radio Revue, on CFRE 91.9fm radio. Ronny, like many people in the neighbourhood, took advantage of the Grand Opening deal, which offered any sandwich for $1.49 plus, what is still known as, GST. Ronny’s rating, was that it was okay, Blossington Post trusts his opinion 100%. When we went to check out the latest food joint in our neighbourhood the final verdict was that it was a good sandwich for $1.49 but hardly worth $4.50, the post grand opening price of the shawarma. The three day long sale has expired, so if you missed a cheap chance to taste our latest Shawarma joint out, you'll take a $3 hit trying a sandwich you'll likely never order again.

The late, though not great, Zagol space still has for lease signs

The for lease sign in, what used to be, Zagol, a fly by the night type of restaurant, based on a pipe dream to compete with one of the best Ethiopian restaurants in the entire city, Lalibela. Zagol opened a few doors down from Lalibela, and only lasted a few months before closing. Should Blossington’s neighbourhood residents express sympathy or regret toward the owners of the failed Zagol? To quote one of Blossington’s greatest captains, Ferguson, “Negative.” What kind of idiot actually thought this hood needed yet another Ethiopian restaurant, low grade Shawarma place, or old-Greek-man hang out?


(All photos by DmD)

Goodbye Astoria Hello Alexandros

A few months ago, Astoria Athens closed its shop doors after decades of servicing Bloorcourt Village.

Astoria fell into arrears, allegedly owning $19,000 in rent. On the surface, it was a restaurant but a deeper connection with the establishment revealed that, in fact, it was a man's-club of sorts. For quite some time, patrons smoked inside (usually during card playing or backgammon) contrary to by-laws before getting busted. Keen locals knew that prostitution was an obtainable service, sort of like a VIP/members-only type luxury, unlike the smoking. 

A source told me that he and his friends were offered $10 blow-jobs from the female bartender, and that this service was not uncommon for neighbourhood friendly faces. Furthermore, strangers to the hood would not be privy to access, unless they were represented by a preferred client. 

Somebody who once slept in the basement next door to Astoria said he heard “An absolute Bordello...It sounded like they were shooting a porn in the basement at 3am. You could hear everything.

“It was crazy...you heard people fucking like rabbits...it sounded like a full blown Happy New Year party.”

Now Alexandros Bar and Grill will take its place. While outlets for indoor smoking, illegal gambling and prostitution in the area have definitely reigned supreme, many wish Alexandros will follow Saving Gigi's suit and break the mould of our BIA, sinking ship establishments. 

Blossington Reporter, DmD, has seen the owners outside of Alexandros Bar and Grill on several occasions. Although they look like  rough n' toughs, they carry a positive and friendly demeanour. We trust they will run a respectable establishment, but more than that, we hope they sell cheap and delicious food, and we really really hope they sell that cheap n' delicious food super duper late.

(All photos by DmD)

Ronny Etches Closer to the Darkside...

Ronny the Pants Baker

On this great day, Ronald Baker, a.k.a. Johnson, a.k.a. Pants, a.k.a. Ronny (local), clocks another full year of existence. The Blossington verdict? I think we're all pretty damn grateful to have this sexy specimen representing our hood.

Last night, in the hours leading up to his actual birthday, Ronny made some seriously delicious spaghetti bolognas for myself, the Blossington Prom King (though he just had the pasta, he doesn't eat meat), and Ronny's law partner, Ferguson. I have to say, that was some damn good pasta Pants.

The gathering was a meeting of minds, from which my mind was absent.

After much persistence, the Prom King had convinced us all that we have to ring in Ronny-Pants' birthday out of our apartments. We needed to have a celebratory cheers, and that couldn't possibly happen in the comfort of anybody's home, especially not on a work night. What kinda shitty friends do you think you have Baker!?

On the stroke of midnight, outside Disgraceland, three men and one lady embraced in what looked like a ball of Blossington love.

"Happy Birthday, good Sir," was one of the remarks that escaped the tightly knit love-ball.

Shortly after, we each went to our respective homes, but not before getting some Pizza flavoured Combos from the Mini Mart, of course.

*** *** ***

Today is the actual day. Several people are going to celebrate Ronny's birthday at his night time gig, The Ronald Baker Radio Revue, a radio show our neighbourhood gem hosts every Wednesday and Saturday nights on CFRE, 91.9FM. The ratings are going to be through the roof today, I'm almost sure. Anybody who is anybody in the Blossington hood is sure to be tuning in, if not participating, either remotely or actually at the statition. It is a really big deal. On tonight's show of the Ronald Baker Radio Revue, listeners will likely experience a milestone in history since Ronny's probably going to revolutionize the voice of broadcasting.

(Photo by DmD)

Cyclemania in Trouble?

Jano, the colourful captain of Cyclemania on Bloor

Everybody who is anybody in Bloorcourt knows Cyclemania is the place to get your bicycle fixed. For years Jano, a handsome 40-something ex-racer, has delivered top-notch bike service to locals and passerbys alike. He is a character of commendable kindness and a connoisseur of cycling.

Cyclemania, located at 863 Bloor Street West, is a bike shop made up of old school mechanics. The place has zero tolerance for pretension, is very welcoming, and has unbeatable prices. It's a no frills kind shop where you will get excellent work done on your bike. Yet, quality of service doesn't equate to quantity from your wallet.

But being a neighbourhood hero has it's downsides. It stirs jealousy, and becomes the focal point for alpha-male competitors. Recently, Blossington writer, DmD, confronted some sad news. Vinnie, who is the brother of the former Blossington Bully - Luigi Xaini - and who used to run a bike shop on Harbord, has laid claim to a space across the street from Cyclemania, at 800 Bloor. His intentions: to open a bike shop.

Vinnie used to pay friendly visits to the guys at Cyclemania, they fraternized about their respective businesses. But now, it seems Vinnie's visits housed malicious intent. The old saying goes, "It's not personal, it's just business." Still, there is something seriously vermicular about his actions.

Bloor West is already filled with bike shops; we don't need or even want another. Opening a shop across the street from Cyclemania is a blatant attempt to run the business, that has claimed territory to the Blossington turf for years, into the ground.

The same way Starbucks is planning to out-do our neighbourhood heroes at Saving Gigi - the prom king and queen of Blossington - Vinnie plans to do to Jano. I, for one, will not stand for it. I know the true captains of our hood won't either. You see, what Starbucks and Vinnie don't know is that people in Blourcourt are valiant, loyal, and prefer colourful hosts to pathetic party crashers.

Calling all Blossington beaus and belles, lest we forget our origins, lest we forget that we are a community that honours our founding members, please stay commited to our neighbourhood staples. Support Cyclemania and never forget the transformational power that Saving Gigi's has had on this hood.

Sincerely yours,
DmD

(Photo by DmD)

Hawk on Roxton

Hawk with Prey

Red-tailed hawk numbers have increased in Toronto over the past two decades. Some say that what draws them into urban areas is the fact that they gravitate toward open spaces like airports to catch prey in open grassy areas where the infrastructure offers conveniently high perching stations.

On Saturday morning, at the North East corner of Roxton and Bloor, Ronald, a.k.a. Johnson, a.k.a Pants, a.k.a. Ronny spotted a hawk on the roof of Coffee Time while having his morning fix at Saving Gigi.

"Holy shit, that is a hawk," Ronald exclaimed to the company on the café patio who consisted of Blossington Post writer, DmD, and Newfauch.

The threesome starred in honoured silence as the hawk stood stoic and still, posture like a Spartan leader overlooking his Blossington kingdom. Some time passed when suddenly the predator leapt from its rooftop perch before swooping down and catching an expendable pigeon in mid-flight.

From the patio parameters several holy-shits escaped the mouths of all three excited witnesses.

Victorious with its soon-to-be-food clutched firmly in its talons, the hawk quickly disappeared within the trees that line the asphalt on the residential street, Roxton.

Several passerbys asked what all the excitement was about. And one lady lamented that her son was not around to have witnessed the glory.

"He loves hawks," she said. "He would have loved to see a hawk in our neighbourhood. Wow, can you believe it?"

To answer your question lady, "Yes, it is totally believable. Anything is possible in Bloorcourt."

Hopefully, this hawk decides to keep permanent residence in our hood. There are numerous benefits. First of all, the lady’s son may get to see it; thus like make a wish foundation, a Blossington boy’s dream will come to fruition. Plus, the hawk can act as a caretaker, decreasing plops of poo on people’s heads vis-a-vis annihilation of pigeons. But also, finding a mascot and team name for our hypothetical, bad ass sports team would be easy: The Blossington Hawks. Pretty original, eh?

Photo by Glenn Nevill

Bye Bye Biker Choppers

Jeff-co with Choppers...only a few days ago0000

Blossington’s favourite cyclist, Jeff, a.k.a. Jeff-co, a.k.a Ferguson, a.k.a. Chubaka has shaved off his choppers. This comes as a shock to community members who've adored his adornment for years.

But, in his self declared “ripe old age of 37,” Jeff is looking to decrease years. Well Jeff-co, we can’t turn back time (Go ask Cher!) but we salute your success in taking about ten years off your appearance. Cheers buddy.

Ferguson, now shaven, talks about the differences

When we asked Ferguson about how it feels to be free from choppers, he said, "Well my hearing has increased ten-fold. It's so windy! I can hear now."

Not only does he look younger, but he feels younger too, I guess? Isn't it a common phenomenon that people lose their hearing as they age?

Neighbourhood folk wonder about the possibilities now that Jeff's reclaimed his acoustic senses. Will he return to playing drums like he did in The Spigots, the hard-core punk band of his youth? Blossington Post keeps their fingers for a "yes."

But Jeff-co says shaving his choppers has not been all goodness and yummies. "It's somewhat of a sad moment in my life," he said. "It's like cheerleading, but different. True story."

Jeff-co chose to speak off the record about the connection between cheerleading and his clean shaven face. We ask that you trust in embedded truths and apologize that we cannot clarify how the two things are, in fact, very much related. Once a good punk-scout, always a good punk-scout. Oye!

(All photos by DmD)

Butt of Santa's Parade

Hardly X-Mas; the sign says it all

This weekend Toronto celebrated the 105th annual Santa Clause Parade. Blossington doesn’t get mentioned though we represent an essential part of the event – the ass-end. Neighbourhood kids get to see Santa immediately. There’s no tease, no tickle, no Here Comes Santa Claus because his float is already at our doorstep.

The last float waits to move on from Bloor and Ossington

The apex of an event quickly loses its appeal without the surrounding moments that create incremental anticipation. At Bloor and Ossington, the grand finale is presented right away. Without points of reference, Santa arriving (well hardly arriving since he’s already here) on his float cannot be an elevated happenstance; essentially, there’s no climax. Surely there’s a reason people tend not to watch movies backward.

Newfauch watches Santa Claus Parade on Television

Reporting live from Bloor and Ossington, we asked a neighbourhood staple, Derrick Dean, a.k.a. Newfie, a.k.a. Newfauch, a.ka. The Blossington Bully about his sentiments on the Santa Clause Parade. He said, “come inside, and let’s watch the parade on the t.v.” It would certainly give a better, more complete picture of the event than being exposed to just the tail end for hours before commencement. Still, somebody sarcastically snickered, “great thinking Newfie,” but Derrick’s wisdom was too profound for the proud commenter; he just couldn't grasp the entirty of what Newfie's insight offered.


(All photos by DmD)

Introducing the Bloor and Ossington-ish Area

Toronto is hailed for its multiculturalism. It’s a web of diverse neighbourhoods, containing colourful characters who experience mini-adventures in their day-to-day: man versus his environment, man versus man, and man versus himself. This blog pays tribute to survivors of Bloor and Ossington.

Heroes in economically depressed areas are overlooked by the masses, they are undermined by celebrities; they are ignored by magazine publications. But there are always local stars, neighbourhood folk who, like footprints embossed on still wet cement, mark Toronto sidewalks with uniqueness.

***

This introductory post will pay homage to former stars of Blossington that were once great in our micro-world, but have passed on to another area of the city.

***

On the corner of Roxton and Bloor lies a café, Saving Gigi. It is a fan-favorite for neighbourhood locals. Families, couples, business partners, solo-socialists, old and young come to Saving Gigi to enjoy good sandwiches and excellent coffee in a friendly, comfortable atmosphere.

Bloorcourt wasn't always that fortunate though. The café was once run with an iron fist, and a lot of potentially loyal customers were scared away. Many a disgruntled customer have only now begun to return to Saving Gigi and become frequenters. The original tyrannical co-owners sold about three months ago.

Along with Monica, the strictly-business minded owner of Saving Grace, Luigi, aka Gi, aka Lui, aka Lu, aka Coffee Nazi, used to terrorize desperate-for-good-chilling customers. Luigi and his business partner (and, *ahem* old lover. Ooops, guess I spilled the coffee beans) recently sold the café (it was a very hush-hush operation) to one of their former employees and her partner. Amelia and Kristjan - the new owners - are like the prom king and queen of Blossington now.

Luigi, once one of the greatest stars on Blossington stage, has moved out and onward opening yet another café, Rockabilly Rock around Davenport and Oakland. It was lonely at the top. The Bloorcourt tyrant, though harsh, will still be missed, mostly for his gossip generating antics.


Former owner of Saving Gigi, Luigi.

Another former cast member is LCBO-Ryan. Unlike Lui, everybody loved this guy. With his leather patched, tweed jacket and thick rimmed glasses, Ryan was like the moment before a first kiss for local alcoholics. In that brief moment between selecting booze, and the satisfaction of finally pressing your lips against the bottle (or can), Ryan was the perfect segue representing the transaction at the cash register.

He's been promoted to a bigger, nicer LCBO, and will be missed for entertaining us with his natural charm.


(from left to right LCBO-Ryan, LCBO-Ralph)

Blossington will also miss LCBO-Ralph's beard (seen above), which is no longer available. At least we still have the man behind the beard. LCBO-Ralph is great because, when sheltered behind locked glass doors, he repetitively yells, "You had all day!" to desperate alcoholics trying to squeeze into the store a minute after close.

(All photos by DmD)