Three Things from Edmonton podcast - Episode 57: fish, farewell, food


Here's this week's Three Things podcast on Apple. Also, in words and pics:

1. Fish 🐠

There’s an aquarium at the Lois Hole Library in west Edmonton, and if you happened to be there last Sunday afternoon close to closing time, that was me standing in front of it, staring like someone who had never seen fish in a tank, which is pretty much what it felt like. I was mesmerized. The little fish twitch and flash and appear quite nonplussed about hanging suspended in gallons of water held in shape by a thin skin of glass on the other side of which is, well, death for them.

Earlier that day, Auntie Shelagh and I had spent a couple of hours on Whyte Avenue. We took the steps down to the Tokyo Noodle Shop for ramen. We darted into Blackbyrd for some new vinyl. We drifted over to Sugared & Spiced for brownies and to talk to Jeff about Thomas Hobbes.

If you think this dropping, darting and drifting means I now see all of us as kinds of giant upright fish flowing past each other inside a giant container called a city, and that we would do well to pay more attention to what makes for a healthy habitat for all, sure, yes, that is true. We are urban fish. It’s as enjoyable to watch the colourful people in their colourful parkas stream by on the sidewalk in Old Strathcona in February as it is to watch mollies, guppies and neon tetras in their element.

But it’s about the fish fish. Staring at fish makes me drift away in a way that watching people doesn’t quite. Fish are unfathomable. I wonder if some submerged part of my human brain communicates with the record of its aqueous, deep past when I watch fish, even library fish. I thought these and other thoughts until I noticed a patron walk by the other side of the aquarium. The spell broke. I returned to my medium.

2. Farewell! 👋

The big ripple in my little Facebook eddy this past week was news from my friend Tim that he was deleting his popular Facebook account. The environment had turned too toxic to keep swimming in. I will miss his posts about the city and about Fort Edmonton, Notre Dame football and his donair lunches with Gord from Global News. And posts about his new shoes. Tim would have given Agnew-Surpass a run for its money back in the day. Tim is a social guy. He’s more face than interface. He doesn’t need social media. He carries direct knowledge from a time when it took some will and not just some skill to stay in touch. If you believe voice is flesh, here he is in the recorded flesh:


Tim typically picks up the tab whenever we meet for breakfast or beers. I am internally grateful for that kindness, and eternally grateful for the real-world wisdom that there is a difference between hoping that paths cross and making paths cross.



3. Food 🍽️

I ordered the fish and chips with the curry ketchup and a side sausage as I do whenever Shelagh and I have dinner at Otto. The restaurant is on 95th Street, just up from Arden’s Vari-Mart. The old #5 stops right out front of Otto. From inside, you can hear the whoosh of the bus and watch its fuzzy lights through the rippled glass garage door. My mom grew up nearby. Ed runs the place. It is a place. Like a hideout is a place. A safe place to trade stories over a meal and listen to the murmur of people at the other tables doing the same. These days, Ed glides between tables on a foot-propelled scooter after breaking a bone in what sounded like a semi-heroic move to stick out a leg and save a goal in an oldtimers hockey game. On nights like last Tuesday, when the noisy world is pressing in on all sides, it is good to navigate the deep and surface in Norwood, pulled by the allure of Otto.



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