Gentrify This

In the Stone Age when we bought our crumbling houses Roncesvalles was cozily plebey with nary a douchie barbeque nor Thuet baguette to be had. But things change. Except Aris Place. The Strollertariat may go there for their ironic brunches, but this place belongs to that dying breed of Torontonian: The Old and Trashy White Guy. These Spongemonsters soak up beer and unabashedly order fries and gravy ’cause that’s what they ate when the Leafs were winning, eh?
     They are the forgotten souls who limped out of Mimico for greener pastures. But at least their heads aren’t up their arses.

Photo by Roy Schulze