As an avid people watcher, I’m elated with joy on this particular vacation. We booked a getaway to Montreal a few months ago to celebrate Chelsea’s birthday. The goal was to be surrounded by Reggae music. Coincidentally after mutually putting Jamaica’s Dream Weekend off until next year, we saw an ad for #MIRF2016, Montreal International Reggae Festival 2016. I was already planning to be in Canada and it happened to be a few weeks after her birthday. So Montreal was perfect and we booked it.
Back to the people watching, I said elated right? That’s an understatement! These people are funny 🙂 This is a colorful city and we are right in Rainbow Central. Sainte-Catherine Street in Gay Village.
This section is beautifully decorated with Pink Bulbs Streamed in Rows all the way down the street creating a floating pink archway hovering the concrete runway. Rainbows are hanging from flags, in the shop windows, painted in the streets and on the walls.
The first thing I saw upon waking up and taking a glimpse out the window was a cow and chicken.
Yes the people are funny.
Last night, we may have had too much to drink, but let me give you my interpretation.
Everyone is on drugs….like 90% of the world are walking zombie robot droids.
Seriously, whatever you’re snorting, swallow or shooting, get off it.
Last night we decided to take our people watching from the patio and out into the world. It was scary. Chelsea wanted to know what I was laughing at and I told her the people were weird. She wanted an elaboration, so we paused at a bus stop and took a seat on the bench.
I told her to watch everyone as they walk by. Really watch them. It looks like a video game with passing zombies and you have to shoot them for points. There’s really slow slurry ones that have glazed over eyes, drooling mouths wide open and they seem to never blink. Those are worth fewer points because they’re slow. Then the herds come. In packs and there’s usually two in an altercation, one’s randomly hitting someone with some kind of object. They’re always laughing and sometimes there’s a stray peeing in a corner or throwing up in a plant. Now the most points are the fast ones. They’re turbo charged and have this distant stare as they zoom past you. Noses dripping, heart racing and sweat flying from all angles.
In all fairness, I had a lot to drink.
I woke up this morning with a new perspective, a sober one.
Guess what, it’s just as bad.
It’s so colorful out there. It’s fun and happy and only a few lagging drones have charges left on their battery packs.
What I’m enjoying about this morning is the amount of paserbyers that I have to debate with myself on whether they are male or female.
It goes something like this…
“She has really nice hair, but could she be a he, hmmmm?? The breast could be either well-defined pectorals or a small framed cup? Both Asexually equally hot….I’m perplexed, lol. The twist is better than mine and damn I love those shoes!”
In the midst of all the craziness and fun, I saw something beautiful.
It was more than beautiful and also my inspiration to this post.
Standing across the street on the corner posted against the street sign was an old man in a purple button down shirt with grey slacks. He must have been pushing 90 years old and I watched him for minutes as I stood sitting in the window eating my coconut flour pancakes with absolutely no gluten, wheat, white sugar or any additives… yes I’m bragging but eating clean should be bragged about. It feels so good.
I watched this man for minutes wondering what his story was. Before my eyes the answer unfolded. His partner appeared from behind. The look in his eyes lighting up as his life partner rejoined his awaiting hand. They were still for one moment in time and only the two of them existed in that moment. I was lucky to have witnessed this pure, raw display of unconditional love. They hand in hand, two old men with gray and silver balding heads, mutual smiles and hearts beating in sync to their steps, crossed the street. They both, I’m assuming late 70s to early 90s, come from a time where, if they were aware of their sexual orientation; were told it was wrong, evil or not allowed and a sin…
These two grew up thinking or believing what they feel is unnatural. They’ve faced years, decades and almost a century of controversy and self discovery. Who knows what their story is or what they’ve struggled with? Were they accepted or shunned? Beaten or abused? Did they alway love a man, or have they loved a woman? Despite the story, they have come together in their end of days and can happily, hand in hand walk, un-judged and accepted wearing matching smiles and living in love. In the end that’s what we all want isn’t it?
To surround ourselves with those whose hearts beat on the same paths as your own.
I only regret not having my phone in my hand to capture their moment. Maybe it wasn’t meant for me to capture. Maybe I should paint it.
I do have one final rant…I’m not going to let ya’ll go until I address this serious issue.
This rant is directed to the Queens in the gay community. I love you guys. You’re the life of the party. Best dressed in a crowd and always the go to for what to wear advice, but in a community environment. You’re so catty. It no longer becomes “One Love”, happy vibes when you guys have this superiority complex. Maybe that’s just my perspective, but it’s not a biased perspective. See, I’m neither gay nor straight. I’m just me and I belive love is love and should never have limits. So please boys, stop playing “Mean Girls” of the LGBT community and share the playground. Love is Universal and everyone deserves an equal share at happiness.
As for the reggae festival…
It was shit. Literally not worth the trip. The good songs only played for 45 seconds before a dj interrupted with screaming over the microphone. It was as obnoxious as trying to work King of Diamonds. You can’t flow with the music when a dj is ruining it.
I’m deciding to pass on the concert tonight and people watch instead.
I mean I do have the most colorful corner in town at my disposal.
Random Acts of Candice 