News from the Archives v01-3
- Created by: Albert Fulton
- Date: 1992-09-01
- Provenance: Collected by various members of Toronto Island Connections group
- Notes: scanned and removal of foxing by Edward English, OCR by Eric Zhelka, PDF by Eric Light; v01-3
SEPTEMBER 1, 1992 MARKET GALLERY EXHIBITION Currently on display is the work of 3 official Toronto photographers, Arthur S Goss (Dept of Public Works), Alfred J Pearson (TIC), and Arthur Beales (Harbour Commission). The West Island Drive house photos in our spring exhibition were taken by Mr Beales in 1937. The show features several Island subjects, including 4 photos which together comprise a view of Algonquin Island from the bridge to the QCYC Clubhouse, taken in the 1940s. Sari Bercovitch (6 Nottawa) had the four melded into one spectacular panorama for the QCYC centennial book in 1989 (pg 49; a copy is in the Archives). Since the trees are few and far between (and absent at 12 & 14 Omaha) the existing houses can be clearly seen, including 3 on Seneca! The Market Gallery is upstairs at the north end of St Lawrence Market, and the current exhibition continues until November 22. ON MY OWN Algonquin Islands own Matthew Ferguson (10 Omaha, 3 Oneida) is the star of this recently released film, and he appears in virtually every scene. In case you may have been swayed by the negative reviews, Emily and I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, both for Matthews talented performance and for the beautiful cinematography, mostly of scenes of Southern Ontario in winter. The film is currently playing at the Odeon Carlton at 1.50, 4.25, 7, 9.30 but you must hurry if you wish to catch it unfortunately it closes on Thursday, September 3, and may not be released to the repertory cinemas for some time. Reviews and photos from 6 newspapers and magazines are in the Archives. STRONG BREW (from Toronto Life, April 1992) With a handful of stools around a single aluminium counter, Jet Fuel (519 Parliament St, 863-9874) looks more like a speakeasy than a coffee shop. Which is appropriate: you should have to get a licence to serve anything this strong. Try a glass of Jet Fuel quadruple-espresso au lait: youll walk out feeling as if you just got a jolt from the electric chair… Jet Fuel has become Caffeine Central for Toronto’s hazy underground of couriers and bike buffs–serious bike buffs, people who build their own bikes, people who whip out their wallets and show you pictures of their bikes… A sample of a typical Jet-Fuelled conversation: I dont know what to get my boyfriend for his birthday. Maybe a hub. Why dont you get him a rear derailleur personal. That’s the type of thing he should be allowed to pick out for himself. Jet Fuel is owned and operated by John Englar (32 Omaha). NOT ANOTHER DOG LETTER (from TIRA News, January 1983) this 15 THE MUNICIPAL City of Toronto By-law 77-74 Dogs at large. One of the services the City will now be providing us will be visits from the Humane Society (dog-catcher to you). Please read the following and advise your pets accordingly. Enid Cridland. For a copy of the complete By-law, see Enid! NEW HOUSES OLD HOUSES In contrast to the current discussions regarding the location and design of the new houses, here are a couple of items about Island residences of the past. The first was written by cub reporter John Millen in 1972 in regard to his brother Marks version of a Buckminster Fuller geodesic dome which perched on the back roof at 15 Dacotah during the 70s and early 80s. Johns piece first appeared in The Gibraltar Pointer and was later reprinted in The Goose & Duck. The second was written by Jake Banky (15 Oneida) about the last days of the last of the Lakeshore houses by the boardwalk (demolished during the fall of 1968). Mr Banky put out a newsletter called The Algonquin Islander from 1967-70, and this excerpt appeared in the issue of April 1968. A more or less complete set of this informative and often hilarious publication is in the Archives. Have you ever gone by 15 Dacotah and seen the Dome on the roof? It has been built just recently. My brothel built it out of 2 x 4s and plywood, then he scraped off the asphalt on the roof of our house and put down the rug. He used my rooms heater and it became warm up there and cold in my room. Now some of the disadvantages: since he lives up there and hardly ever comes down, when the phone rings, I have to go up there and get him. Once it was terrible, it was raining, the phone rang and it was for Mark_ I bad to go up in my bare feet since my shoes were wet. I got him and when we got down the guy had hung up. My brother felt terrible but boy I was mad. My brother put together a bell but my brother said it was too loud. There was another thing Dinner! I would go up and get Mark but he would always come down late. My mom would say Are you sure hes coming? He always came a bit late but he was there. I t is about time I ended my story so if you are ever walking by, be sure to look up. THE END by John Millen, grade 6 The traditional Island pastime of scrounging is in full swing, now that warmer weather is here. In fact, a couple of careless Islanders were charged under the city’s anti-scrounging bylaw earlier this week. A pity. With all those Lakeshore homes being demolished, the Island is now a scroungers paradise. To avoid such unfortunate incidents in the future, the Algonquin Islander offers this choice of scrounging techniques: The Traditional Approach The scrounger and his wife, dressed in muddy mackinaws and muffled boots (left over from the sneak attack on the Plains of Abraham) lurch out of their house 15 minutes after all police, firemen and Parks officials have settled COWn to watch the evening hockey game on television. Flitting from hedge to hedge, they infiltrate the target house. Careful not to tread on the amorous couples inside, the scrounger loads three doors, 12 storm windows, a chest of drawers, two light fixtures, come old 78-rpm records and an ancient water heater on his wifes back and pushes her out the front door, where she makes her way home as best she can. The scrounger, meanwhile, heads for the bar at the kik to establish an alibi. The James Bond Approach Dressed in exquisitely-tailored slacks and an 80-dollar ski sweater, the debonair scrounger saunters from his house, leaps aboard his super-streamlined bicycle and pedals off on Operation Scrounge. At the target house he silently packs his bag with a valuable antique clock, 12 abandoned cans of Beluga caviar and the secret plans of the Parks Department. On his way out he interrupts an amorous couple, dallies long enough to cool out the man with a karate blow and take advantage of the wench, refreshes himself from a chilled bottle of champagne efrins strapped to his wrist , mounts and zooms off through the night. If the authorities give chase, a lever on the handlebars activates the ejector seat which flings him neatly into the lagoon, where a special breathing apparatus in his sweater allows him to stay submerged for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, as the authorities ride up, the rest of the bicycle explodes. Eventually, our hero emerges from the lagoon, sneezing, snuffling and oozing mud, and slides home — where his wife gives him merry hell. Take your pick. And in any case, beware the long arm of the law. ALGONQUIN ISLAND ARCHIVES c/o Albert Fulton 5 Ojibway Ave Toronto M5J 2C9 362-2171 or 537-5006
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