Lifestyle
I Love Sudbury
SUSIE MOLONEY
Winter 2010 |
This column appears in the Winter edition of Sudbury Living on newsstands now. Aw Sudbury. It’s been so long since we talked I can hardly believe you’re still there. I see you on Facebook and Twitter, but it’s not the same. I think of you so often and while Winnipeg is good to me, I can’t seem to forget you, Darling.
When we first met I was prepared to not be impressed. I fully expected an small town in over-sized, big city clothes. Oh, I’d heard of you, of course. You were famous even then, what with the moonlanding practice and the great big nickel.
We were first introduced by a nice couple who had a winking interest in our getting along. I remember dressing for our first meeting, thinking, ach, what does it matter?
But then it did. I think from the very first time I sat in one of your restaurants and there were no paper placemats, my little tiny heart gave an extra beat.
Do you remember that little coffee place on the main drag in the West End? I used to love you there, with a little espresso in the mornings. You never judged my “night befores,” usually spent in all those bookstores, and all those hotel rooms.
Hey, remember that time we stayed up all night at the Northern Lights Festival, dancing to Moxy Fruvous, and then again later to that guy in the campground who had the tamborine and the loin cloth? Epic good times.
I love my home in Winnipeg, but the nickel’s not as big as yours and, while a girl can sure make change in this town, I miss driving up that single-lane highway behind 15 cruiser trailers and a couple of semis, just anticipating that turn off through your craggy rock cuts into your waiting, exotic arms.
Is Pasta Vino still there? I used to have the spaghetti, and I’d wind it around my fork looking out at the street and dreaming of the shopping we’d do, the movie we would see, the tiny soaps at the Comfort Inn.
That day I went down in your Neutrino Lab bonded us forever, I felt that I was – and rightly so – getting to your very core. John Crosbie was there. Or was that something I dreamed?
No! It wasn’t. We had a booth together, signing books at the New Sudbury Centre. You were very patient with me that day, waiting for me all day while we chatted up half the city!
I never felt like I had to be someone special for you, never felt like I had to be a Funny Girl. Of course, I was a funny girl and you laughed with me.
It wasn’t that funny though when I was in labour, giving birth to my son and one of your nurses said, "Hey, aren’t you Funny Girl?" What was I supposed to say? I said, "Not right this second, I’m not." And we laughed!
You kept me grounded, like all good loves do. That day after my name was splashed all over newspapers all over the world, I was having lunch with some friends of yours and mine. The waiter approached me, I thought kind of shyly, and he said, Excuse me, are you Susie Moloney?" And since I was not used to being recognized, not used to the attention, I was moved and excited that someone knew who I was! I said, coyly, "Yes I am." And he said. "You left your wallet at the table."
Thank you, Sudbury, for that too.
You never made me choose between you and my beloved Manitoulin. You wanted only my happiness, and the affordable housing Manitoulin offered. You were always there for me when I needed the brighter, shinier lights, the city lights. Until about 9 pm on a weeknight, and maybe midnight on the weekends.
Do you remember me, Sudbury? Because I remember you.
Susie Moloney wrote a column for Northern Life newspaper for many years called Funny Girl. It won an Ontario Community Newspaper Award. She is the author of several books including A Dry Spell. She now lives in New York City.
