Isn’t it wonderful when four stereotypical figures can come together in perfect harmony thanks to a humble can of spaghetti? We never suspected that the finest spices from Asia lurked within our sloppy Saturday childhood lunch.
Isn’t it wonderful when four stereotypical figures can come together in perfect harmony thanks to a humble can of spaghetti? We never suspected that the finest spices from Asia lurked within our sloppy Saturday childhood lunch.
George McCullagh seemed to have it all: a rags-to-riches back story; a brash, cocky charm that appealed to financiers, politicians, and the public; a growing family; influence in the back rooms of government; and ownership of several Toronto daily newspapers. He even attempted to lead a crusade to change the nature of government that would enable him to fulfill his belief that he alone could improve the state of affairs for Canadians or at least the state of affairs for his friends in the mining industry. Ultimately all of this may have been too much for one body to handle.
No statistics have ever been made public about the number of deaths and injuries caused by the swift, sudden attack of colossal bellboys bearing large stacks of classifieds that descended upon downtown Toronto during the spring of 1936. Urban legend has it that the attack was an extreme ploy launched by the Toronto Star in its circulation war with the number two paper in the city, the Telegram, that was intended to bury "the old lady of Melinda Street" in a mound of newsprint.
When travelling by train between key games during the Stanley Cup playoffs, the last thing a hardened hockey player wants to suffer is indigestion. If King Clancy and his teammates actually did pop a few tablets to rid themselves of "the poisonous wastes that slow a man down," they helped the Maple Leafs defeat the New York Americans two games to one during the 1936 semi-finals.
Toronto celebrates its 175th birthday today, which provides an opportunity to look back at its accomplishments, determine what makes it work in the present, assess why we like living here, and ponder where its future lies. Past anniversaries have combined these elements in commemorative books, with two standing out from the pack (advance apologies to those who produced the 150th anniversary book—our blue-ribbon book selection committee couldn't get past the sax-playing clown balanced on a unicycle in front of Union Station).
Civic officials have long been eager to greet any visitor to our fair city with the slightest whiff of fame. Opportunities to pose with celebrities and have them sign the official guest book or test out government furniture have long been attractive to our elected officials despite occasional hiccups—Mel Lastman's feud with the Spice Girls, anyone?