Sinatra played frequently throughout both nights at the small, dimly-lit Montreal establishment where likely many an important dialogue had been delivered. As he made another appearance and another round of Canadian Club was poured, the Six Degrees of Separation theory was revealed; for within our group, one character had actually dined with Frank in Chicago some decades prior.
Frank had a few hits--I Love Paris and New York, New York to name a couple--and provided the backdrop to a night I couldn't have possibly imagined taking place when I first moved to the city at age 20.
That the night had taken place on boulevard St. Laurent, the central Montreal artery that serves as the unofficial divide between English and French parts of the city, made it all the more fitting.
I've gone to that Japanese scotch bar a few times over the years. It serves as my go-to for a visiting friend or family member. It's well-known but well-hidden, set amongst shops and night clubs. Its distinguishing feature is a door with a lone graffiti marking. Open the door, climb a set of stairs, walk through a narrow hallway, and you're in a place whose ambiance is that of a 1920's establishment…dimly lit, scotch hanging from the ceiling, narrow tables, and bowtie-clad bartenders.
A trip to this bar is my way of telling people that Montreal is my city.
Salim's city.
I love it here. Much of the time with school and working lots, I forget how at home I feel here. For most of December, I have been unemployed and school-less. And thanks to that good fortune, I've rediscovered a city that became my first home-away-from-home and is now my real home.
My days have consisted of smoked meat sandwiches at Charcuterie, poutine, visits to the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, and strolling the old Montreal Forum. My nights have been filled with Chambly, Heineken, karaoke, and friends.
It's been an awful lot of fun living here. When people back home ask me what I like most about living in this city (which, for me, is the best in the world to be a young person), I always reply that the best thing is not knowing how my day will turn out.
Until today, I was riding a streak of nine straight days where I'd walk out of my apartment and randomly run into a friend.
The city's culture is hard to describe. The only time I visited here as a tourist was when I was 13 and had only seen Quebec from textbooks and newspaper columns. The French and English is what people immediately connect to. But it's a lot more than that.
It's Expos Nation and Habs Nation and Trudeau Mania and mansions on rue Sherbrooke.
It's a city where walking into a bar and saying, "Tim Raines deserves to be in the Hall of Fame," will earn you a free beer. It's a city whose dormant baseball team rouses more emotion than most cities' existing franchises (ask us JMSM 15 folk for more on that).
It's a city that has produced prime ministers and executives and artists. It's a city where CEGEPs exist whose names include Champlain and Marionopolis. Where Trudeaus walked the halls of Breboef, and Anthopouloses learned the trade of sports management by sorting fan mail at the Big O.
It's a city where Youppi is the only guy in town with more facial hair than I have.
It's where centuries-old buildings sit untouched as modern office buildings tower over.
It's Just For Laughs and Jazz Fest and Francopholies.
It's rue St. Catherines having strip clubs situated right next to 19th century churches.
It's where house parties always include hour-long, Kronenburg-fueled chats in French.
It's New York a seven-hour bus ride, Toronto a five-hour ride share, and Paris a $600 roundtrip flight away.
It's been over two years now, and I have more friends here than I do in Edmonton. I appreciate the life here. Friends here have remarked at how 'quickly' I live here. I think that is because I don't take this city for granted. It's probably similar to my friends in Alberta who came to Edmonton from smaller towns. When you move somewhere different, your motivation to take advantage of opportunities is huge.
At a certain point, your personality forms around your environment. I think that's happened with me and this city. I wasn't the most confident or outgoing lad before I moved here. Nor did I like museums or find cultural events appealing. A couple years later, and I don't think there's a situation I'm uncomfortable in, just because I experience so much on a daily basis. I like my life to be fast-paced, energetic, and unpredictable. That fits in pretty perfectly with a city of 170 000 students, great nightlife, a metro system, and thousands of different ways of thinking.
It's been a rollercoaster and there certainly have been plenty of trying times. I'm completely isolated from family here, which can get hard at times. Sometimes you crave friends you've known for 20+ years.
Is life here perfect? Absolutely not. Everything, absolutely everything, is different, in Quebec. The healthcare, social systems, lack of infrastructure, earning potential, taxes.
Is life in Alberta great? In many ways, it really is. It's easy and simple and, in conventional terms, a 'safer bet.' We have an NDP government and are multicultural and are overall an optimistic and outgoing people.
Right now, I'm all-in with Montreal. I want to be a part of this city for a long time and be a part of what makes it great.
That initial November scotch-fueled night was born out of an offhand comment I'd made in the lobby of the Chateau Champlain Marriott hotel. A friend had come from Los Angeles a day earlier than anticipated, and we'd just spent the past hour chatting in a conference room. Catching up on life. The last time I'd seen him was in Ottawa eleven months prior. One hour rolled into two, before hotel staff asked us to leave.
In the lobby, I jokingly suggested we head to the Japanese scotch bar.
"Let's go," he said. "First round's on me."
Montreal.
