I QUIT

Archive for category: Photos

   (2006.06.30)
Grey clouds show through metal-framed tarpaulin roof
   (2006.06.22)

This excitingly hazy samizdat-style THRILL-CAM shot does not quite do justice to what’s happening.

White Suburban with red and blue stripes sits alongside a few people on a distant beach

This Toronto police Suburban (not marked ETF, merely 55 Division) was seen driving around the actual beach at low speeds, making stations-of-the-cross stops at all the lifeguard towers.

But I saw no obvious cops, even any obvious undercover or plainclothes cops. The Suburban was full of guys in board shorts and no shirts, sometimes driving with a door open. What were they doing?

UPDATE (2006.09.04): A sergeant told me that Beach lifeguards are actually civilian employees of the Toronto police, and that any such Suburbans must be from the Marine Unit and are driven by lifeguard supervisors.

   (2006.06.21)

The old guard must make way for the new, &c, &c.

New park bench with bright paint job sits on concrete pad. Old dilapidated bench, wrapped in yellow CAUTION tape, sits on grass behind it
   (2006.06.20)

I was not aware that Spanish was intrinsically blue.

Logos on riveted steel panels read AIR RIDE EQUIPPED in a wavy red arrow, SUSPENSION À L’AIR in a yellow one, and SUSPENSION NEUMÁTICA in a blue one

French as intrinsically yellow I can get behind, though.

   (2006.06.19)

I suppose this is unremarkable on beaches in general. It is nonetheless a rather alien sighting one city block away from a major thoroughfare.

On a sandy beach between a boardwalk and the water, a red tractor pulls yellow trailer whose front face consists of steel cylinders
   (2006.06.13)
Recessed panel on hood of champagne-coloured car shows a pair of steel chevrons mounted on a black background
   (2006.06.10)

Just don’t park ’er nose to curb.

Close-up shows a Smart Fourtwo’s black fuel-filler cap, red reflector, and black tire amid a paint job of bright red, green, pink, and blue arcs and curls
   (2006.06.09)

My esteemed colleague and I were driving along King (for we drive and, yes, are as shatterers of worlds) and I found myself blurting out loud “Why is there a Citroën SM and why is there a Citroën DS?” In fact, there were seven Citroëns all in one place, including 2CVs and some late-model variety uncomfortably resembling a Lada Samara.

Baby-blue Citroën DS with white roof sits parked at curb between enclosed tree on sidewalk and passing streetcar

My eyes widened and I giggled and clapped my flat-outstretched hands like a schoolgirl. I made us stop the car. I took pictures until I ran out of juice. I talked to the SM owner. (“Whenever you show people a Citroën SM, they think The Longest Yard: ‘Don’t you take my Maserati!’ Except it isn’t a Maserati. It’s a Citroën; the engine is a Maserati.”) I watched various Eurotrash in too-tight and/or ruffled shirts and overlarge shades clutch their twee twine-handled shopping bags as they regarded these alien creatures.

Our philosophical question de la journée: If we know these things hike themselves up to drive away on their hydraulic suspensions, why do they have to hunch back down again once parked? The French showing off or something?

   (2006.06.05)

Yet another instalment in the seemingly endless stream of surprises down at the Beach.

I saw this frogman in orange (for it is he) walk smartly into the lake. Then I noticed the other guy, who soon hollered over to the frogman “While you’re down there, can you look for my glasses?”

Man in street clothes crouches over intake vent on rocky outcropping in lake while another man in orange wetsuit and white helmet walks toward the vent

I thought this was a joke. I was – so help me – on my way over to suggest that he should have said “contact lenses” when the frogman reached in and – so help me – pulled out a pair of eyeglasses and handed them to the other guy.

I love this shit.

And did you notice the intake vent camouflaged as a rocky outcropping?

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