I’ve just received an advance copy of the December/January issue of More magazine; the Memoir section is a story of mine about love with a younger man. It’s odd to read it now, because the affair described was some time ago. Still, it’s a good feeling to open the mag, which always has lots of interesting stuff, and see the piece there.
To celebrate, I went to Doubletake, my local second-hand store, and saw a long line-up outside the cheque cashing place next door; the welfare cheques must be in today. Perhaps this is the only middle-class neighbourhood in Toronto acutely aware of when the government cheques come in; the No Frills on Parliament Street where I buy groceries will be packed for a day or two. At Doubletake I was happy to find a 50’s aluminum cake preserver, something my daughter the baker really needs, and left it behind the counter while I looked at other things. As I browsed, I heard a local man, a cheerful character with long white hair who zooms about in a power wheelchair, bantering with the staff. “I’ll leave it here and pick it up later,” he said. “Put it on my tab. Only joking.”
“Name?” said the staff member.
“Mick Jagger,” he replied. “Only joking.”
When I went to pay, I found out that Mick Jagger had bought my cake tin. Ah well. Another good story. It’s raining again.
