Blaze Aid and Ottawa’s Best Bus Driver

Blaze Aid was a multi-bar fundraiser on Saturday for the victims of the fire at Somerset and Booth last month.

Thirty-one people were left homeless, but fortunately nobody died in this fire.

Here are a few pictures of the fire and its aftermath.

Do you remember the Thach family, most of whom died in a fire on Somerset Street in 2005? A memorial shrine sprung up for them overnight, and grew over the following weeks. It was right outside the buiding that just burnt down. Apparently Cambodian Buddhists believe that death is a journey, and you must still meet your earthly needs while you’re on that journey. That’s why they leave things for the deceased. Neighbours and friends and passers-by left things like basketballs and money and lights and food and toys and photographs and so on.

Now the backdrop for the shrine has itself been lost to fire.

That corner of Chinatown looks and feels completely different without those buildings.

On the bright side, the people who live in this building, which used to be behind the building that burned down, now have lots of sunlight.

I attended Blaze Aid at Irene’s Pub. While I was there, someone announced that there was another fire burning at Somerset and Bronson. I figured Robin would be on the scene because he seems to have become the unofficial photographer of fires in Chinatown these days.

My friends Mike, Janet and Rebecca all joined me at Blaze Aid, and I ran into lots of people I hadn’t seen for a long time since I hadn’t been to Irene’s for almost a year.I still think of Irene’s as my neighbourhood pub even though I haven’t lived in that neighbourhood for sixteen years and I hardly ever go there anymore. It takes about an hour to walk there, and about an hour and a half to walk back.

But Saturday I didn’t walk back. I called a cab which never came, and then I took two buses.

I’m glad I did, because Weird Al Yankovic was on the #1. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that.

A young woman got on the #14 at Parkdale and Gladstone. She looked scared, and two men tried to follow her onto the bus. The driver stood up and blocked their access. Then he came back and quietly asked her if they’d hurt her. She said no, but she was clearly upset. He returned to the front and told them to get off the bus. They did. But as they passed by her window, one of them called her a fucking retard. Nice.

I’ve been thinking. You know that worst-bus-route contest over at the Ottawa Citizen? Last time I checked, the #2 was winning, and my #14 was in second place. (Which just goes to show you how bad the #14 is – it can’t even win a race with the #2.)

But anyway, I was thinking, someone should run a contest for the Best Bus Driver in Ottawa. A bus driver can impact your day, for better or worse, by smiling or snarling at you, by doing the little extra things, or by refusing to let your tormenters follow you onto the bus. For people who live alone, often the first human interaction of the day is with the bus driver. A friendly smile and a cheerful “Good morning” can go a long way. I hear there’s a singing bus driver too. Maybe he’s the best bus driver in Ottawa?

I feel like I’m starting to sound like a little Beam of Sunshine now. I better stop before I burst into song. Or flames. Or something.