Get over the stranger danger and join the free-rangers In the mid-1970s, when Yonge Street was a tawdry nirvana bisecting Toronto, my father used to leave my older brothers and I in a pinball arcade while he went record shopping. At night. For hours. I was young enough to need a plastic milk crate to stand on so I could reach the flippers. He didn’t entirely abandon us, in the middle of the night, on a street full of weirdos and miscreants: He made sure we had a plastic bag full of change for the games. Then he went off to Sam the Record Man or A&As to look for opera imports. Only once did anyone in authority express any concern over three … [Read more...]