Starting in St. Catharines, I miss this CD store: the first CD store in the city. Station To Station was what it was called, and it was located at 38 James St., at least later on; when it first opened, it was on the second floor somewhere close to that same location, but I don't remember exactly where that was. It is here that I bought my first CDs from Enya, King's X, the Indigo Girls, as well as many others, as well as the many classical music CDs from the Naxos label: these were so much more affordable at the time for a younger audience. I also got a copy of Carmina Burana by Carl Orff there. The owner was a younger blond guy, and he was really friendly. Unfortunately, after I went to the University of Guelph, I frequented there much less often, and when I did, I don't think he remembered me that much, so by now I'm a figment of his imagination; however, I do still appreciate the store. If he ever does read this, say "hi."
Also in St. Catharines was the Card n' Quill in the Glenridge Plaza. It was owned by James Peter Heysel, and he was a really great guy. I'm really sorry, actually, that I spent so much time talking to him: I hope I wasn't too much of a bother. The most useful service, for me, was the photocopying service he offered: it was 20 cents per page (I think), I think, back in the early 1980s, plus taxes, but often--but not always--if you got five photocopies, he let you pay with just a dollar. At one time I found the obituary for James with his photo, but it seems to have disappeared. If any of his many descendants read this, I very much appreciated the services he rendered, and you're lucky to have such a father or grandfather or great-grandfather. I also remember buying either fountain pens or the fountain pen cartridges there, as well, as well as, of course, various cards.
In Waterloo, there was the Moody Blues café, which was located in the owner's home. She was a really nice person, and interesting. She had German heritage, and I enjoyed going there occasionally. It was located at 68 Regina St N, but it is now Bart & Maria Tailoring. I don't remember if Maria was the same woman who ran the café.
In St. Catharines, as a teenager, my sister and I were taught how to play the organ by J. Leo Dugas (we only knew him as Mr. Dugas or Leo Dugas). My mother would drop us off and my sister would do homework while I played: there were two very comfortable chairs on the south side of that room. I forget what I did, perhaps homework, perhaps puzzles or read. When my mother picked us up, she would also drive Leo to his evening restaurant: Fortis Family Restaurant on 135 Queenston St., close to where he lived. That restaurant was open until 2022 it seems; sad that I'm only writing this now, as I never went there, even though Leo had almost every dinner at that restaurant. He was born on March 4th, 1912 and passed on January 5th, 1994. He was the organist at St. Denis Roman Catholic Church, at the corner of Lake St. and Carlton St., although I don't see any record of him being associated with that congregation nor his contribution, as it seems that pastors and associates are the only ones worthy of mention. He lived at 10 Cross St. and that is where he gave his organ lessons for pupils. I remember the wooden pillars that were part of his home, and he had a fun cube-puzzle made of 27 red plastic cubes. I remember, in particular, that there was a window on the inside of the house between the front foyer and what I think was the kitchen. His organ was an old one, with all the old stops and a full set of pedals, not just one octave. He was an absolute master of that instrument, and when he played, it was as if you were dreaming. I never learned how to adjust the stops so as to produce different sounds; his may have been 100 years old, while our organ was an electronic Lowry. The organ sat half-way along the west wall, just south of the pillars that divided that room from the main northern living room where he had a grand piano. He lived there by himself, and I'm not sure if he ever married or had any children; however, the home was always immaculate. In addition to being an organist, he was also a Leading Aircraftman (L.A.C.) in the Royal Canadian Air Force, no doubt (or at least very likely) during the second world war, given his age, but if anyone knows better, please let me know. He never talked about this part of his life when I was with him. I think I remember him having a Siamese cat, and one time when he was away, I vaguely remember taking care of it. If you're a former pupil of his and want to add something, please let me know; his youngest students would be forty years old by now, I surmise. I'm saddened that I don't remember his face that well; I sort of conflate his look with that of Alec Guinness. Having gone through all our photographs from home, there are pictures of Sylvia and me at his organ, but none of him, unfortunately. There should be more information on the Internet about this amazing person than just his grave site. His grave is at Victoria Lawn Cemetery.
When I was doing my masters at the University of Waterloo, there was the greatest restaurant in the University Plaza: Olympic Gyros and Subs. It was owned by a Cypriot family (I believe) and it was a nice place to have lunch. It still had the best flavor of gyros I've ever had, and I finally learned the point of the chip (they served larger chips and not the thinner fries) underneath the wrap: to prevent the juices from soaking the wrap. That place closed decades ago, and I heard that the family moved back to Europe, but it was a great place while it was open. There were nicer-than-average wood four-person tables down the center and four-person boots along both walls. The chairs and benches were padded with thick red faux leather seats. There was an ornamental wall of wooden pillars as you entered the restaurant, as I remember. It really was a classic place.
Another good restaurant was Mr. Sushi. Mr. Sushi started as a kiosk in another grocer at the corner of the University Plaza beyond Phillip St. It then expanded to occupy half of a store front. It generally focused on takeaway sushi, and the payment system was the honor system: there was a cash box, you put your money in to pay for the food you purchased, you took change if necessary, and you walked out with your lunch. It seemed to work quite nicely, and while I never tried to (or even dreamed of) take advantage of the system, I'm told one of the women who worked there always kept a close eye on the cash box, even when she was preparing something else. It was really good sushi. At some point, the son took over, and he was excellent, too. The half store then expanded to a full store front and it became a full eat-in restaurant, and it seemed to thrive. Unfortunately, at some point, Mel's Diner, a few stores away, had a fire, and the stores in that wing were closed for a long time: I think over a year. The momentum of Mr. Sushi at that time seemed to have dampened, as other sushi restaurants opened and students graduated and newer students were no longer aware of Mr. Sushi. The restaurant closed in 2014, with two decades of excellent service, if not more. Oh yes, the miso soup was amazing: you served yourself. Okay, maybe it wasn't that great, and maybe it was out-of-a-box and too salty, but the saltiness complemented the sushi, much in the same way the soy sause did.