The park at the top looks like a backwards L or maybe a boot. It is kind of like a speakeasy park known as Adelaide Courtyard.
You can access it via alleyways on Yonge, Victoria, or King. The main entrance is via Adelaide, but even that is deceptive. It is truly a hidden gem with two fantastic water fountains.
I only learned about this island of humanity because there was a McDonald’s beside it back in the day. When I worked down the street, I would go to Rotten Ronald’s and pay good money to make myself sick every so often with toxic food.
Mmmm just remembering the smell makes me… …nevermind.
Across the street on King is the HQ of CIBC and Scotiabank. Big money. BIG FUCKING MONEY. Rush tells me it makes the world go round! CIBC on the south side is old, classical architecture, and Scotia on the north is modern. Both are GORGEOUS.
Bask in it, baby. Bask away – you can bask all day. La la la
You can walk through CIBC and find Commerce Court Square, another speakeasy type of park. It is gorgeous. There is a big round pond, benches, and greenery. It is an oasis. I visited when I worked in the hood and sought solace.
The Kids in the Hall filmed a Headcrusher episode at Commerce Court Square:
Water fountains – Your source for calmness and soothing
Berczy Park is just phenomenal. One of the best views of the Toronto skyline, peaceful and tranquil, and the fabulous flatiron building is there. There are even some buildings that give you a taste of Old Toronto. When I worked across the street, the fountain was pretty good, but nothing like the awesome sauce it is now.
One time, Michelle and I saw Bjork perform across the street. I’ll bet dollars to whatever currency they have in Iceland that if Bjork had known about this fountain, she would have climbed it and gifted us her concert while perched on the top of it.
A river soothes through it
Similarly, when I lived in Windsor, I would go down to the Detroit River, sit beside the Ambassador Bridge, and gaze at America. It was so close and yet so distant. The solace would seep in through my Canadian nooks and crannies.
Maybe it wasn’t solace that I found down by the Detroit River. It could have been industrial sludge seeping into my soul. Misty toxins wafted up from the water, coating my body and soothing my mind. It was the weird, evil stew I needed. It was a familiar drug cocktail, and it reminded me of where I grew up – next to the Niagara River and close to Love Canal. Google that, brothers and sisters, Love Canal.
The Niagara and Detroit rivers are like spas for the worthless. Sitting next to them and feeling their power feels good. They are my version of Lou Reed’s White Light, White Heat.
Suddenly, I feel like I am at an AA meeting. My name is george, and I admit it: I am a product of toxic mist. I am a product of The Rust Belt Womb.
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