Ron

When I first moved to Toronto I began in the hardest conditions.  Homeless.  Jobless.  AND (here’s the kicker), the girl I came to be with, my reason for moving there, had just broken up with me.  I still have no idea why I chose to move there.  Maybe it was because I hoped that things with the girl would smooth out.  Maybe I had set my heart on the Toronto.  Maybe I needed a new city, away from a home that had changed without me.  Whatever the reason, when the plane dropped me off in Toronto I landed in a pile of shit.

For the next half year I would mentally and emotionally survive by truly appreciating every little glimmer of good frotune that shone through the smog.  Some days it was as simple as getting a free ride on the TTC (instead of walking for 2 hours to a volunteer job).  Some days it was a free meal prepared by a friend, or a drink bought by a stranger.  Some days it was finding a free concert by little kids trying to entertain passers by.  For 6 months it was those glimmers that got me through the days.

One such glimmer was getting a serving job at a REALLY great place.  The Cameron House  on Queen W in Toronto has been around for over 20 years and is a really great artists hangout.  It’s a small bar with a back room that always (every night) has some sort of live entertainment.  The nicest thing about the job (which payed poorly and forced me to work with a total dick of a bartender) was the fact that I got to listen to music every night that I worked.  I looked forward to every shift there. 

One night after last call, as everyone is starting to leave, Crusty Mc Asshole (our friendly barkeep) pointed at a guy who had been sitting in the back room and asked: “have you been serving that guy?”.  I nodded, and he asked “do you know who he is?”.  I shook my head.

 

Turned out the guy was Ron Sexmith.  When Crusty told me that I said “whothefuck is Ron Sexmith”.  He explained that he was a national treasure and blah blah blah.  “Sure” I thought, “whatever”.

 As the year went on I remember hearing about Ron Sexmith 2 more times.  The first time was when a friend asked me if I had heard anything by the singer/songwriter.  I said “no”, but very proudly related the story of how I had once served draft beer to the guy.  The friend asked me what I had said to Ron and I said… nothing.  In total disbelief said-friend told me how both Elton John and David Bowie had listed Sexmith as their favourite new songwriter. 

The second time was at a free concert.  Leslie Feist, was tuning her guitar, getting ready to play a song.  As she strummed and adjusted, she told the audience about how she got to play a duet on CBC radio with… Ron Sexmith.  She talked about what an honour it was to not only be in the presence of such a gifted songwriter, but also how fortunate she felt for getting to play with him.  

Cool.

For an entire year and a half after my serving a “national treasure” I didn’t make any kind of effort to listen to his music.  Then one morning as I was drinking my coffee, this video came up:

http://streamos.warnermusic.com/qtime/canada/ronsexsmith/sexsmith_allingoodtime_300k.mov

As the song played I couldn’t help, but listen to the words.  It was as if everything I felt at THAT MOMENT was being sung by Ron.  All of the hardships I had endured by moving were gone.  I had gotten a great job.  I had a beautiful home, and girl problems had pretty much faded away.  I was no longer focused on surviving the shitty days; I was enjoying the good ones.

That song captured the moment when I put a whole year and a half into perspective.

-step.