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Living Can Kill You

Terminal City celebration

Were it my city, I’m not sure what I would have thought. But it isn’t my city, and it was definitely an unforgettable experience.

When first moving to the West coast, Lee and I had passing thoughts of attending the Olympics. Then the tickets seemingly sold out and we forgot about it all. Months later, through our friends, we ended up with tickets to a Canadian hockey game. And then, through yet another friend, we found a place to stay.

If you’re within driving distance, take a day or two and head to Vancouver (or Whistler). Trust me. Even the most skeptical will find it worthwhile (if only for the Neil Young Project).

Despite (and because of) the hundreds of thousands cheering fans on its streets, Vancouver exuded a positive spirit. Everyone we met was genuinely happy, from the police officers to the bus drivers (when a bus was full, its sign changed to an apology for waiting passengers). The entire city exuded pure fun — including the one day it rained on us.

As much as I love Toronto, I’m not sure it would have reacted the same way. Nor would I expect the same from my current hometown, even though it’s only a three-hour drive south of the city.