In the spring I decided to take a week long vacation to return to Toronto. Trips from Montreal happened pretty often but between Friday night arrivals and Sunday's unsure departure, it was always hard to see everyone. I had also been planning to record the voice of a friend for an album that was nearly completed. This trip was to make up for all that lost time.
On Tuesday, I visited my old friends in the assembly plant at deHavilland, shared food, told stories and realized that the "Thank You" card I had given them before my exit to Montreal, was still posted on the wall. After my long awaited visit, I returned to my cousin's apartment (The same building I used to live in), to find the front door pried open. Right away I looked over to the dining room table to find that my laptop and my gig bag were gone. Experiences and memories that came from an entire year of my life were suddenly pulled from me in an afternoon - My music was gone.
Thursday was my birthday and I became lucky, lucky enough to be in Toronto to spend it with my closet friends. On the patio at our old hang out bar, Fynn's, which we joked about buying in our old age, they gave me a card with cash pitched in for me to re-build my music and an old iPod filled with songs to keep me company.
On Sunday, I started "Saturdays = Youth" while boarding the ferry to cross over to the Island airport. On the plane, which coincidently I had help build at the deHavilland plant, I snuck on my earphones, hoping that the flight attendant wouldn't see and tell me to remove them for take-off. The plane accelerated down the runway and I kept the city scape in my window. we said goodbye and plowed through the clouds as "we own the sky" erupted halfway through.
Now in the winter, my album has been re-written, shaped and built on the pieces that my friends have given to me. On a grassy hill overlooking a mountain on the far side of a river in Beloeil, I realized that you'll never hear me say again that being robbed is the best thing that can happen to strengthen friendships.