|Pumpkin surveying is thankless work.|
Walking my moderately immoral and sniffly brakeless touring bike of doom down the sidewalk to the outskirts of town, I realized that I would be missing tomorrow's much vaunted Art Spin finale. Since traveling trivial distances by bicycle to view trivial visual stimulus is also an important part of my life, I decided to catch The Weather Network's round the clock coverage of this season's pumpkin nurturing on the TV later and turned back to prepare for the Art Spin ride instead.
Wondering about the proposed route for the Art Spin ride, I sat down beneath a tree and pulled out my Toronto Cycling Map to review what route planning the City of Toronto thought fit to send cyclists out upon. However after staring at the map for sometime in a desperate search for some sensible and meaningful route, my mind gradually began to wander and my eyesight began to blur. Gradually my sight focused and my mind noticed, not the bike lanes and proposed routes, but the enormous blank spaces between them.
I saw meaningless stubs and yawning chasms and began to feel strangely trapped. Gripped by this alien sense of entrapment, I wondered when new urban planning would liberate Toronto with more facilitating infrastructure till a kindly hobo interrupted my train of thought and offered me a cupcake and a swig of his bourbon. We chewed the moist cupcake in thoughtful silence when he suddenly extended a hand and introduced himself: "Estragon." At that moment, I was suddenly seized by a realization so shocking I nearly added extra cushioning to my riding shorts.
I glanced up at the barren tree leaning over me. Sitting under a barren tree? With a hobo named Estragon? Waiting for something that will never come in my life time? And then I saw it...
I fell into a dizzy stupour and swooned into the kindly hobo's arms. Coming to my senses, I stuttered madly like St Michael of Monday, so overflowing was I with prophetic revelation. The hallmarks were all there: the apparent randomness of our journey; the search for meaning and guidance; the ultimate realization of the aimlessness of it all; the frustration and despair at the emptiness and the sense of insignificance; the attempt to impose a path to meaning and instill a sense of personal significance from within if not from without.
A gap in a bike lane that dead ends a few blocks away anyway?
Yes, I suddenly understood: Toronto's infrastructure isn't real infrastructure at all; it's actually an enormous Absurdist art installation.
|Seen in Etobicoke: 'Use other sidewalk'? What other sidewalk?!|
This realization got me wondering: who needs Art Spin when there's an entire exhibit waiting outside your door?