Jenny and I moved to Toronto in August of 2003.
The day of the Blackout, to be exact.
I remember joking that maybe the city of Toronto didn’t want us to move in.
Like maybe, they figured, if they’d just off turned the lights, we’d roll right on past.
Our first year in Toronto was pretty close to perfect.
I played the odd show.
I started painting.
Life was good.
I hung around.
Went to pubs.
Became a regular.
For the first time in years, I was in one place.
I couldn’t have been happier.