Melvis Kostello Duz Toronto I drove 1000 Km over two days to catch Elvis Costello in Toronto at the Molson Ampitheatre. I left at around 10:30 Wednesday morning with the intention of taking my time. I was meeting my niece at 6:00 p.m. downtown to pick her up, so I had ample time. I hate the 401. It's incredibly boring, but gets you between Montreal and Toronto quickly and predictably. Living near the 20, I prefer to take the 20 all the the way to the 401, despite the fact that it requires that you stop at several lights between here and Hudson. It gives me a chance to travel through the small town where I grew up--Dorion--and note the changes that have occurred in the thirty years since my family moved from there. As I cross the bridge from the island of Montreal into Dorion, I note that the small strip mall is now is full-fledged indoor mall. J.C. Vallée, the car dealer, and our neighbour when I was growing up, has moved his business to the other side of the town. The tiny motel chalets that were on the waterfront are now gone, but I'll always be able to picture them as the place that one of my childhood companions used to escape from her family on at least one occassion. The Silvery Moon, the only Chinese restaurant for miles, is now a futon shop, but the faux-oriental architecture is still intact. Patate Serge is still there after all these years. The tiny cinema is also still there, but is some kind of retail establishment. Caillette's, an ice cream bar where you could also get the freshest curd cheese, was converted into a "Bar Western", but now sits empty with an "A Louer" sign on it. Closer to the town's western limits, new malls and restaurants occupy what were farmer's fields. Not far from the house where I grew up is a MacDonald's. In just a couple of blinks, Dorion is behind you and Toronto is 450 Km ahead. The concert was superb. I was, however, a bit disappointed with the Toronto crowd. Most hail EC's new album as a return to his earlier 70s sound. I just hail it as a continuation of incredible, edible lyrics, vocals to sometimes die for, and learned and bold muscianship. To accompany the tunes from the new album, EC delved into earlier stuff, like "Waiting for the End of the World", "Radio, Radio", "(I Dont's Want to Go to) Chelsea", "Watching the Detectives", "Mystery Dance", "Lipstick Vogue"--none of which really managed to get the Toronto crowd collectively up and on its feet. Not EC's fault, but due, I think, to the very mixed-age crowd and the stadium-style venue. This concert would have been awesome at the Spectrum or Metropolis. Unfortunately, this was his only Canadian tour date. I spent some time with my great nephew and sister (a proud Grandmother) before heading home to Montreal. Avoiding the 401 at all costs, I took the 2 back until Kingston, where I stopped at one of those roadside car-and-people service stations. Tempted by the Timbits at Tim Horton's I bought a box, but I was disappointed that at least a third of them were stale. Shame! What always surprises me about driving at night is how much faster I tend to go. During the day, I'll rarely top 130 Km, but I night, I'll frequently travel as fast as 160 Km. I think it's because during the day I can see more, hence there are more things to to potentially hit, roll into, and careen off of. At night, I really only concentrate on the tunnel of road in front of me, and who's behind me (though, at 160 Km, there's rarely anyone behind me). As I pass from the Ontario border into Quebec, I always get a big grin on my face whenever I see that "Bonjour" sign with the waving fleur-de-lys on it (effective graphic design!). It's always good to cross back into the place where I was born and the place that I understand the best. Bonjour, Québec! Au Revoir, Ontario....