Montreal 2008: Words and Pictures 6 - Say Hello to Mon Petit Ami (photo dedicated to Al Pacino)

I couldn't find the word dépanneur in my French phrase book (though dépanneuse is in there and it means "tow truck").

I've a pretty good hunch dépanneur translates roughly to something along the lines of "bodega" (for us New Yorkers) or "grocery store" or "convenience store" or whatever. Because that's what a dépanneur looked to be once I stepped inside: cigarettes, beers, chips, snacks, lottery tickets, etc.

I did not dare set foot in this one, labeled as it was as "Scarface". Hey, what can I tell you? The sight of a woozy proprietor snorting coke off of a baguette wasn't on my list of Montreal must-dos this time.

Maybe next year!

Montreal 2008: Words and Pictures 5 (photo dedicated to my brother Chris)

The reference to Toe Blake by the cretinous Hansons in the film Slap Shot never fails to send me into hysterics, almost as much as when one of the brothers complains about that "stinkin' root beer."

When I decided to finally get my ass to Mount Royal (the mountain for which the island city is named), I knew I would have to visit Blake's grave site and spend a few quiet moments to acknowledge the man's greatness.

Little did I realize that reaching Mount Royal Cemetery (Cimetière Mont-Royal) would nearly put me in an early grave. The mountain is quite steep, and I undertook the jaunt on foot. The sprawling cemetery is pretty much right in the middle of the mountain, which is otherwise covered with acres of splendid park lands.

Once I got to the cemetery gates I figured the rest would be cake. After walking for what was probably at least a couple of miles, I happened upon the cemetery office. The receptionist was very nice and helpful, and even though she only had a vague notion of who Toe Blake was, she was able to map out the location of his final resting place for me.

So I headed out, after taking quite some moments to consider which road the out of scale map actually referred to. The trek seemed like countless hours and miles. Consider: I was constantly passed by cars along the cemetery's winding roads - cars presumably en route to visit with departed family and friends. As I made my way along those roads as a pedestrian, I would see the same cars pass by in the opposite direction on their return trip, visits presumably finished.

Eventually I found Blake's grave, after doubling back more than a couple of times, by climbing a set of wooden bleacher-like stairs that brought me to the cemetery's highest point. In this remote and slightly desolate area, among a few rows of graves, I found the Blake family's plot.

I also found, sitting in a police cruiser nearby, a female officer of the law—Quebec style. My thoughts immediately turned to the uncomfortable shake downs I am witness to when my Amtrak train crosses the Canadian border. I'll never forget the time I was stupid enough to wear short sleeves and had to endure the question: "Sir, what is the significance of the tattoos?"

Like the touristy dope that I am, I actually ambled over and asked if it was okay to snap a few pictures (following the dictum of one Sidney Fields: "Politeness costs you nothing"—more on that some other time). The response was exactly what a touristy dope should receive under the circumstances, a completely indifferent shrug.

Montreal 2008: Words and Pictures 4 (photos dedicated to MsHellion)

A huge statue of Montreal Canadiens legend Maurice "The Rocket" Richard, that I somehow stumbled across downtown. I was actually looking for Montreal's Underground City which, it turns out, is pretty much a mall.

The weird part, though, is that I found this statue several floors above ground level. I got into an elevator after my disappointment with subterranean Montreal, and began looking for a big multiplex movie theater I knew to be in the vicinity. Upon alighting from said elevator I walked smack into The Rocket.

It's quite the impressive monument to a man who arguably defines Canadiens hockey: Richard was the first NHL player to score 50 goals, the first to score 50 goals in 50 games, and the first to reach the 500 career goal plateau.

I can't help but wonder about the oddball (read: disrespectful) location. I mean, shouldn't this be in a slightly more hallowed place than a mall? According to Wikipedia, it (or a statue that bears an eerily striking resemblance to it) resides in Jacques Cartier Park in Gatineau, Quebec.

Perhaps the statue is on loan, and maybe the mall is where the old Montreal Forum used to stand, who knows? Such an explanation would make me feel a little better.

I present his image and motto "Ne jamais abandonner" which translates to "Never give up" to MsHellion - friend, roller derby woman and never giver upper.

Montreal 2008: Words and Pictures 3 (photo dedicated to MsAPhillips)

This year I finally made it to Montreal's Chinatown.

Funnily enough, it's quite close to where I have stayed the past three years - I just didn't realize it.

I had a great dinner at the Jade Jardin (or Jardin de Jade, or something like that) - an all you can eat buffet at a fixed price. Naturally, after two heaping platefuls I was given the old heave ho.

Which is just as well, I suppose, as I was definitely getting the death glare from not only my waiter and the owner of the joint, but other more well-behaved patrons.

Waiter [handing me the bill, unbidden]: "Okay, $12.98 plus tax [pointing out each figure, and then the total]."

"And you leave tip [hand clasping my shoulder] on the table."

Montreal 2008: Words and Pictures 2

Yikes.

This is one of the first sights spotted on my recent jaunt to Montreal. For a few scary moments I thought I was in Amsterdam - with little recollection of getting on a plane, etc.

Slowly regaining my senses, I relaized this was signage advertising a hemp products shop on Montreal's funky but chic Rue St. Denis. I recollect this establishment from a prior visit, but not the sign.

Je me souviens, I guess not.

And I report this from Nashville, Tennessee, where I am currently ensconced for my job, y'all.

I seem to forget my camera whenever I have an opportunity (very rare) for sightseeing, but I can say that Elvis is big here (in addition to Memphis), and the buskers all look like variations of Buck Owens.

Montreal 2008: Words and Pictures 1

They knew I was coming so they dug a grave.

SOME PEOPLE CALLED HIM MAURICE

Anyone who cares about hockey (okay, that's you and you) should skate, not walk, to see The Rocket: The Maurice Richard Story.

The Rocket is a wonderfully entertaining and informative biopic shot in gorgeous sepia-toned splendor, fully evoking hockey of the 40s and 50s. The old-style jerseys (literally "sweaters," in those days), the uncurved stick blades, the pomaded hair styles - it's all faithfully rendered. As is the notion that hockey has always been (and probably always will be) a fringe sport adored by a fervent minority.

And who knew French Canadians were so reviled in Canada? I must've dozed off during the pertinent didactic passages of Ken Dryden's The Game.

I could quibble with the few details omitted - Richard's landmark 50 goals in 50 games; the man's maniacal visage as he bore down on the opposing goaltender (see above) - by why? This is easily the second best hockey film of all time (nothing will ever unseat Slapshot for top honors).

Former NHL star Mike Ricci gets significant screen time as Richard's Montreal Canadiens teammate Elmer Lach, and current New York Ranger Sean Avery does a convincing turn as a Boston Bruins goon. Though I didn't spy him, Vincent Lecavalier - 2006-2007 winner of the NHL's Rocket Richard Trophy for most goals scored during the regular season (52) - is credited as portraying Montreal legend Jean Beliveau.

So, St. Patrick's Day Is Celebrated in Montreal

My bad! Here I was thinking I would be safe and secure from the drunken rabble and the puking of the green on St. Patty's Day with my Montreal sojourn.

Wrong O'Reilly!

Fact is, St. Patrick's Day was in full bloom last Saturday evening at the Centre Bell (let me translate that for you: that's Bell Center in English). Yes, the consumption of alcohol was at elevated levels, adding a palpable intrigue to the proceedings at hand.

Montreal Canadiens, Toronto Maple Leafs: Two desperate teams with mere points separating them from the final playoff berth.

Roughly half the crowd in the Canadiens' building appeared to be Toronto fans, and they were loud and stoked.

Canadiens fans held their own, with several wearing adulterated Maple Leafs jerseys, featuring mean-spirited inscriptions such as "Can't Buy a Cup Since '67" on the back.

The joint was ROCKING for what more than one news publication referred to as the Canadiens' most important game of the season. The air was thick with - in the words of Captain Lou Albano - "psychedelic pandemonium."

This was the most exciting game I've ever been to, needing a shootout to decide the outcome. It was rough, it was violent - a terrific, bloody fight in the opening minutes of play! - it was hockey.

TV In Montreal

This is what a Montreal TV star looks like. And no, he wasn't a contestant on that new reality show "So You Think You Can Be Lurch," either.

This fellow, whose name I did not catch, was hosting a sports program (pardon, programme) about hockey! Which was quite good, actually.

Hockey is discussed constantly in the media up here, which is not surprising, though I am repeatedly delighted by such a situation.

Last year I saw a program with four middle-aged French speaking men who all looked like they could have been on "Meet the Press" or something similar. They argued passionately and incessantly with each other over the fortunes of the Montreal Canadiens, and though I understood little, I enjoyed every minute of it.

Heading North

Less than a year after my first visit I am once again venturing up to Montreal, Quebec, Canada for a long weekend.

I will be attending the first ever Montreal Zen Poetry Festival. As soon as I saw the attendant verbiage: "words have no meaning," I was sold. What with my interest in short-form poetry (i.e. haiku), and previous dabbling in meditation, I am excited about this event.

Both the Montreal Canadiens and the Toronto Maple Leafs are scrambling to make a playoff berth, so it'll be a great game to take in on Saturday night when they face off against each other at the Centre Bell.

I also hope to meet up with the publishers of Taking the Brim.

And then just kicking around a great city, listening to the slightly raw brand of Montreal French, and trying to remember how to say "chocolat chaud."