The CleanSweep Conspiracy

April 28. VÉRITÉ, a blog by Matt Tremain

Let me tell you about my adopted city, the place I call home. I’ve walked its streets and lanes, leaving few, if any, neighborhoods unexplored.

But by far, my favorite activity is riding the streetcar. I love riding the 501 streetcar between the Long Branch loop and its corresponding turnaround loop to the east. I sometimes ride that vehicle back and forth for hours at a time. It is my chance to breathe in and study the rich diversity of the city. To me, that ride captures our diversity.

From colorful silk wraps revealing the cultural roots of women wearing them to men wearing stiff-necked suits to students wearing predistressed designer jeans—they all blend together as the car glides east, only to turn and head back west, only to turn around and head east. The streetcar does that day after day, and I am reassured by its regularity.

Looking out the window, I find myself curious about a particular man I see regularly who waves his arms as if trying to gather crowds to follow him, guiding us away from some danger only he knows about. I’ve never seen anybody follow him. You may have noticed him as well, standing on the corner of Berkeley Street.

My favorite character, above all, is a woman I call the Dancing Lady. To my eyes, she always seems to be attempting a plié, perhaps a demiplié, or maybe a not-so-grand jeté. I admit to a limited acquaintance with ballet terminology. I silently pray that her dancing gives her pleasure, but somehow I doubt it. She can be seen dancing in her private dance studio on the grass at the edge of Moss Park.