Widow's Endorphins: Heroes and Superheroes: Subway Tales for Canada D...

Widow's Endorphins: Heroes and Superheroes: Subway Tales for Canada D...: You never know what you'll see on a Toronto subway ride.  Doctors and researchers step aboard at the Queen's Park subway sta...

Heroes and Superheroes: Subway Tales for Canada Day

You never know what you'll see on a Toronto subway ride.  Doctors and researchers step aboard at the Queen's Park subway station, art students at St. Patrick Station, lawyers and law students at Osgoode Station, tourists at Union Station.  

One day, while I was just passing time, counting the number of commuters using electronic devices (I once counted 125 people texting, talking, or listening to music), the subway car was "invaded" with women dressed up as little schoolgirls in uniforms, and men dressed as super heroes.  I knew they weren't real.  I'm not sure I can say the same for some of them...serious comicon fans take themselves...seriously!

Last Thursday, I rode to a neighbourhood far, far away, in search of a prized cleaning product that zaps away stains, and makes metal gleam so powerfully, you need sunglasses in your kitchen!  Two young girls were seated across from me, playing an elaborate hand game that would make Rock, Paper, Scissors looks like...child's play.  The perfectly groomed woman in black and hot pink, seated beside me, smiled as she turned towards me, saying, "they're having so much fun!" 

 
It was a handgame neither of us had ever seen before.  When the game picked up speed, and their little hands and arms were flayling in every direction, the lady beside me gave me a tiny nudge with her elbow, the way my Mum would nudge me to get me to look at something wonderfully funny, or very special.  Together, we watched these two incarnations of our former selves - authentic little girls - and smiled.  It was a lovely moment between strangers on the Toronto subway.  When we got off at our subway stop, the lady beside me, took a moment to thank the two girls for being such "great entertainment" on our ride. 

My return trip home was slowed by a minor disruption in subway service...something about power being cut at the Broadview Station.

At that moment, a real life superhero had rescued a blind man from the path of an oncoming subway train.  The man had accidentally walked off the platform, and fallen onto the tracks below.  His 24 year old rescuer heard cries for help and - without thinking of himself - jumped in to save him.  Landscaper, Kyle Busquine says his actions were, "just a very basic and a compassionate, human thing to do".

Meantime, the conductor of a subway train which had been stopped on the other side of the tracks, ran to cut the power, so that no one would be electrocuted stepping onto the tracks.

Two other heroes, arrived on the scene, and helped Busquine hoist the blind man to safety.  Busquine says he's "super thankful they came down in after me, because I would not have been able to do what I did by myself."  He still doesn't know who they were. 

Julie Caniglia, the woman who witnessed it all, posted a photograph of the three heroes on social media.  Kyle Busquine is the man in the animal print t-shirt, in the middle of  Caniglia's photo.  Caniglia says, "we all need a bit of positive reinforcement that there's some great people out there."  The hero of this story says, "I'm happy this story resonates with so many people".  

There are superheroes who take the subway, and there are superheroes who take the subway.

PS: You'll never believe what happened the night of Canada Day!  I was at a daylong Trinidadian/Guyanese/Canadian BBQ with friends who wanted to pick up groceries, and a small bottle of Advil, before heading to another friend's 28th storey home to see the fireworks.  I walked over with them, because I know all the shortcuts in my neighbourhood.  We couldn't find the Advil in any of the grocery aisles, so I went to ask a guy at the checkout.  I waited while he finished serving a customer.  When the customer turned to face me, I thought I recognized her, and as she began walking away, I said, "are you the woman who was on the subway on Thursday, when we watched those two girls?"  She recognized me before I even finished the sentence.  "I wrote about you!" I said.  Her eyes teared up, and she said it was such a special moment on the subway.  We shook hands, introducing ourselves.  Her name is Shirley, and she was heading home to read this blogpost.  I have the BEST life!

Photographs Copyright of Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.
Except that amazing photograph of the three heroes of Broadview, taken by Julie Caniglia.

Widow's Endorphins: The Longest Day...Shortest Blogpost!

Widow's Endorphins: The Longest Day...Shortest Blogpost!: This is a short blog on the longest day...because I'm heading back outside to enjoy the Summer sun!  It's officially Summer, ...

The Longest Day...Shortest Blogpost!

This is a short blog on the longest day...because I'm heading back outside to enjoy the Summer sun!  It's officially Summer, here in the Northern Hemisphere!  This being the Summer Solstice, the sun won't set on Toronto until 9:02 tonight.  That's 15 hours, 26 minutes and 31 seconds of daylight!  Adios!  A bientot!  

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: Saying "Yes" to Living!

Widow's Endorphins: Saying "Yes" to Living!: After years of saying, "no" to almost every invitation to do anything, I am at last saying, "yes"!  For the first ...

Saying "Yes" to Living!

After years of saying, "no" to almost every invitation to do anything, I am at last saying, "yes"!  For the first time in years, I have no real responsibilities.  The freedom is exhilerating!  It's as if the skies have opened up, and everything is illuminated by brilliant sunshine!   

I was telling an old friend this weekend, that I feel like a sixteen year old, with the whole world open up to me.  It's all so new to me: undiscovered experiences, and so much to learn!  I don't need a Valedictorian to tell me that the world is mine to discover...I'm already out the door!  

I've been thinking a lot lately, about what I'd really like to do with the next thirty or more years of my life...and where in the world I'd like to be.  Stay in Toronto, where I have many beautiful friends?  It's great to walk into a place, and have everyone call out my name, like Norm on Cheers.  I have meaningful relationships with my TO friends.  They've been there for me, and me for them.  We keep our spirits up, encourage each other, and have formed deep, lasting bonds.  

Maybe, I'll travel the world with my camera, following the Summer season, like a sun worshipping nomadic gypsy?  Or, follow in my Dad's footsteps, and take a luxurious ocean liner across the sea, or set sail for distant shores!  France, Italy, Ireland, Spain, and Greece all call my name...my full name...in capital letters...with an exclamation mark!

My heart and soul have always been on the Westcoast of Canada.  My true home is there, where the mountains meet the sea.  I have longed for the coast for nearly three decades.

I love Vancouver, with it's tree lined streets of cherry blossoms - ribbons of pink from February 'til May!  It is a garden city, with flower and vegetable gardens in yards, and on sundecks in every neighbourhood.  The parks are a floral photographer's vision of paradise!  The city's beaches are home to sun worshippers.  The sailboats and floating homes in the city's safe harbours, the seagulls and eagles soaring in the skies above, the world class restaurants, cafes, and farmers' markets, and wonderful places to walk or cycle, all make Vancouver a very liveable city! 

One of my wonderful Brazilian friends, has taught me the joy of  being spontaneous.  We'll be talking about doing something, and he'll say, "Let's go!"  And I'm there!  Just like that!  For a control freak, who plans, and changes plans, and plans again - this is life changing!

I live with three bright, vibrant, engaging twenty-somethings who go out at ten o'clock at night!  That's usually when I'm coming home from an evening out!  Even when I was a twenty something, I was home by midnight.  There's a whole other time zone out there, that I've yet to discover!

Last week, one of my extraordinary neighbours had free tickets to a ballet dress rehearsal with The National Ballet of Canada.  Normally, I would have thought about all the fuss of getting dressed up, and heading downtown, and just stayed home.  This time, I said, "yes"!  I actually had fun getting dressed up!  We attended an eye opening lecture before the performance...and saw three back to back ballets:  Paz de la Jolla, The Man in Black and Cacti.

I loved the tribute to Johnny Cash, in The Man in Black:  an ensemble of four ballet dancers in cowboy boots (honestly!), stomping, "square dancing", and line dancing, to Johnny Cash singing Lennon and McCartney's In My Life, Canadian Ian Tyson's Four Strong Winds, and Torontonian Gordon Lightfoot's If You Could Read My Mind, among other songs.  It was unlike any ballet I had ever seen, and I loved it! 

Paz de La Jolla, created by New York City Ballet Resident Choreographer and board member, Justin Peck, was a day at the beach!  Peck grew up in California, and quickly rose to fame with the New York City Ballet, a company founded by European George Balanchine, who sought to give his company an American "look and feel" with tall, long-legged, athletic ballerinas (I know this, because I attended the pre-performance lecture).

Peck has not strayed from the late founder's vision.  The dancers wore bright, neon Summer swimsuits, and volleyball beachwear, and their movements recreated the spirit of a day in the sun and surf.  As day turned to night, dancers in opalescent, diaphanous costumes moved like moonlight on the crests of waves. This week, the Toronto Star gave the ballet four stars!

This Summer, I too will be walking along sundrenched beaches, and photographing glorious gardens, as I head to the Westcoast for three wonderful weeks of being with old friends and new, doing things I did as a kid, and things I've never done before.  YES!!!!

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: Light in the Darkness

Widow's Endorphins: Light in the Darkness: Photographers live in the light.  We play with light.  We fight the light.  Sometimes, we shine the light...on things which are hard to ...

Light in the Darkness

Photographers live in the light.  We play with light.  We fight the light.  Sometimes, we shine the light...on things which are hard to talk about...like suicide.

The news of Anthony Bourdain's suicide hit me hard.  The host of CNN's enormously popular travel and food series, Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown, was a force of nature.  He was someone so authentic, so true to himself, that it is inconceivable that he was living a lie - masking deep depression, and suicidal thoughts.  On the other hand, there was always a fleeting look of sadness, and vulnerability in his eyes.  Then, his eyes would flash, and he'd say something hilarious, sardonic, or profound.

I loved Anthony Bourdain.  So did millions of men and women around the world, who lived vicariously through him, who wanted to be him, who wanted to journey with him, who admired him for his reverence and irreverence, his swaggering confidence and his humility.  He was brilliant, witty, brutally honest, kind, gentle, sensitive, intense, outspoken, passionate, caring, devil may care, and hedonistic.  He was what my friend Julie calls, "a complex carb".

Ironically, like his last television series, Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown, there were parts of him, which were unknown.  Bourdain had his demons.  In an episode, inwhich he returns to his cooking roots in Massachusetts, he revealed that he was a recovering heroin addict, who religiously attended addiction support groups.  He said that it was thinking of his young daughter, that would keep him from going back to drugs.  His drinking was legendary.  In the Russia episode of Parts Unknown he drank shots of vodka for breakfast, lunch, and 16 more shots with dinner. 

Over the years, he made referrences to depression, including the suicidal behaviour which followed his divorce from his first wife - heavy drinking, drugs and dangerous driving.  He spent 250 days a year travelling, which may have taken their toll on his second marriage.  Not long ago, he wrote that an experience in an Argentine airport sent him into a tailspin for days.  The Iceland episode of one of his earlier food and travel series, No Reservations, is entitled,  Hello Darkness, My Old Friend.

We all knew about the history of drug addiction, the drunken days and nights, and his loneliness on the road...but he was okay, right? 

Perhaps Bourdain's death hit me hard, because in many ways, he reminds me of my late husband.  Brande was "an adventurer", who lived life on the edge, and turned his life around in time for me to walk into it.

Brande was his own man.  I could never tell him what to do.  He always lived by his own rules.  He had presence, and could shift the energy in a room.  Like Bourdain, he could talk with anyone about anything.  He was a great storyteller, and an even better listener.  He was a gentleman, and a gentle man.  He was a ferocious adversary, protective of those he loved.  He was also a brilliant, independent thinker.  Perhaps unlike Bourdain, he was not only strong willed, he had a strong will to live.

Anthony Bourdain famously said that you should be able to cook an omelette for your lover the next morning.  My husband was not a morning person.  His cooking was amazing!  Bouilliabaise and Seafood Lasagna were his signature dishes.

Bourdain's partner, Italian actress Asia Argento is a fearless and strong woman.  You may remember her from this year's Cannes Film Festival, where she used her opportunity at the podium to speak out against the man who raped her at Cannes when she was 21 years old:  Harvey Weinstein.  Her powerful speech made headlines the next day.

She is "devasted" by Bourdain's death.  She uses the same words which I have used in speaking about Brande:  "my lover, my rock, my protector".  Even the strongest of women will be shaken to their very core, by the death of a partner or husband.

Brande's death - even though I knew it was coming - brought me to my knees.  For weeks, I could barely breathe.  For the first month, I would hold onto the grab rails in the shower, for fear of fainting.  When the overwhelming grief, fear and anxiety about the future overcame me, I too actually contemplated suicide.  Me.  I held the thought for one day.  It terrified me, that I could even consider the thought.  I did consider it.

I don't pretend to be an expert in mental health, even though I've seen psychosis and schizophrenia up close, and all too personal.  As an act of self preservation, I've stayed far away from it.  So, when those suicidal thoughts crept into my headspace, my self preservation kicked in.

All my life, even in my darkest hours, I've always known that tomorrow will be a brighter day - that things will get better.  Maybe not the same as they were, but better than they are right now.  That's what I told myself, until I believed it!  As much as I detest that insipid Little Orphan Annie song, the truth is, the sun will come up tomorrow - and it's only a day away.

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: True Story: Robert Redford Woke Up to Me

Widow's Endorphins: True Story: Robert Redford Woke Up to Me: Did I ever tell you about the time Robert Redford woke up to me?  True story! Before I get to that, let me tell you about the Fre...

True Story: Robert Redford Woke Up to Me

Did I ever tell you about the time Robert Redford woke up to me?  True story!

Before I get to that, let me tell you about the French sailor who gave me the shirt off his back.  It was the whitest of white linens, with a classic nautical square neckline, trimmed in navy blue, and a stylish ship's anchor embroidered on the front pocket.  Whenever I wore it, I thought of him, smoking his Gitanes...that morning. 

He had just arrived in Vancouver - a port of call for sailors around the world.  The next morning, he woke up in my bed.  I remember studying the angles of his face in the daylight, the wisps of smoke rising from the Gitanes, as he puffed the cigarettes, between sips of coffee, and conversation.  We saw each other a few times after that.  Before saying goodbye, he gave me his French sailor's shirt - just because.

I'd make a fortune as a National Enquirer writer!  Do you want to know what REALLY happened?  He was a gay friend of a close family friend, and needed a place to stay for a few days.  I was married (the first time), and had moved away from home, so, my Mum gave him my old room, and empty bed.

I dropped in to visit my Mum, a few times that week, and mentioned how much I admired his authentic French navy shirt.  He had been a chef in the French navy, and had long since done his service.  So, he very kindly gave it to me!  Just because.  The acrid scent of his French cigarettes lingered on the clothing.

All this, to illustrate that there's truth, and then there's TRUTH.  The first story is completely true.  Every.  Single.  Word.  Yet, it's so misleading, that it verges on being dishonest.  It's part of what we all deal with every day, in print, television, and on-line:  fake news.
 

Even the photographs which I've chosen for this post, are "fake".  I've enhanced each photograph, altering the image on the computer, to create a whole new image, that is nothing like the original, yet the original image can still be seen.  It's not extreme - more like a little lipstick and mascara, rather than cosmetic surgery.  Altered truth all the same. 

Which brings me to Robert Redford, me...and a bathtub.

For a few wonderful Summers in the late '70s, my friends and I would enter a tub in the great Nanaimo to Vancouver Bathtub Race.  Our boyfriends would spend weeks creating a fibreglass bathtub shell, and attaching it to an outboard motor for the perilous 58 Kilometre (36 mile) race across Georgia Strait, in the Salish Sea (the course has since been changed).

One of the guys (usually, whoever was lightest that year) would be the tubber, and remain crouched inside the tub, while cranking the outboard motor full throttle across the sea.  The rest of us would be safely in a boat, racing alongside our little tub.  It was chaos on the water, with hundreds of little tubs, and escort boats racing to Vancouver.

Once he made it to the Vancouver finish line, the tubber would "leap" out of the tub with all the agility of someone whose legs have been bent under them for over an hour, and struggle up the beach to ring the finish line bell.  It was all over by lunchtime.

One year, we rented a boat big enough for a few dozen friends and a live band!  We continued the party, cruising Burrard Inlet, to the far end of Indian Arm, where we dove off the deck, and swam in the salt water of the inlet, from lunch until dinner time.  By early evening, we were ready to head back to the city, dancing on deck the whole journey back.

There is something exhilarating about turning up the amps on a live band, and dancing, as you cruise into the port of Vancouver...past the industrial terminals, past the city skyline, all the way to the dock at the prestigeous Bayshore Inn.  No one wanted the party to end.

The police officers were very polite.  They said, that Robert Redford had called the hotel desk to complain about the noise, that woke him up...he had an early night, because he had to be up early the next morning.

Robert Redford woke up to me!  That's Ruth's truth.

Not everything is in black and white. 

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.