He's a New World Man

A few comments on my last post touched off a spark of urban versus suburban animosity. Having spent most of my Mothers Day weekend among the mass-fabbed row by rows of uniform mediocrity, I have a few observations.

I, myself, am a self-admitted urban elite snob. I adore the fact that I can step out my front door and instantly be connected with diverse food, culture, transit, community spirit, recreation and arts. I love that I can stroll along the bustling avenue and be greeted by store owners and restaurateurs who know me by name. Conversely, I love being able to disappear into a crowd of commuters or melt in to a shuffle of downtown hoods with my tunes blasting and a good book.

I grew up in the burbs. They were lifeless, dull, dreary and devoid of culture. The only way to kill my need for more was to get drunk and stoned, fuck and fight. It was not such a bad existence for some, but it was not nearly enough for me.

Now, things have changed: I have a daughter. Although I want her to experience all that this great city has to offer, sometimes I think about the physical size of our grossly over-valued century home and am tempted by the fact that the suburbs offer much, much more more for way less. But in the end, I always come back to the cultural allure. Do I want my daughter to grow up thinking the big box mall is the centre of her cultural life? No. Do I want her to be forced to drive the family's third car at 16 to her ethnically homogenous high school everyday? Nope. Do I want her to think that East Side Mario's is the epitome of ethnic cuisine? Un uh.

I know that we all think our own little weltanschaung is the correct view of the world. But in a country that boasts to be multi-ethnic, I can think of no better place to be than in the centre of a vibrant concrete jungle that hosts such a wonderfully diverse human eco-system.