Turning On My Neighbourhood

Oh, the abundant opportunities inherent in this post slug, to go off on flights of quadruple-entendre fancy, but, no, I’m talking about television and my neighbourhood, dear readers.

About six blocks from where I sit right now is a structure appearing in the Galactica universe as both Delphi (in BSG) and Caprica City Hall (in Caprica):

Sharon & Helo at Delphi / Caprica City Hall (mouseover)

It’s actually Vancouver Public Library.

A scant three blocks from where I sit right now is (probably) the most crucial location in the BSG mythos, which also happens to be Vancouver’s Orpheum Theatre:

Battlestar Galactica Vision / Orpheum (mousover)

And, indeed, you can’t go to any university in the Vancouver area without going all fanboy/girl in recognition of so many locations from the series and, especially, you simply can’t watch Caprica without giggling, Champ especially, at the number of Yaletown locations you’ll see.

And for so long I’ve been wanting to describe my two-months-in impression of the people in my neighbourhood, but got bogged-down in an overly-comprehensive catalogue of all the “types” you can encounter here, and how they compare to the “types” in my old stomping grounds in Toronto, and wound up feeling far too mean-spirited about Toronto since, basically, people everywhere are stupid, selfish and oblivous. The Toronto difference being that they’re stupid, selfish and oblivious, only really, fucking mean, too.

So there’s that. And then, when I was on the phone yesterday trying to convince the charming and effervescent ELeven to come on up for a visit after his next gig, I struggled to describe the guys here. And found my outdoorsy-athletic-collegiate-lumberjack description wholly inadequate. It struck me today, seeing a half-dozen different film crews (or notices of near-future filming, like Fringe, two blocks from my place, next week!), that the best way to describe the folks in my neighbourhood — the ones which catch my eye, at least — is to use television archetypes.

Come sundown, Champ observes (accurately) that the women in our neighbourhood most closely resemble the Kardashian chix — not at all unattractive, but seemingly convinced they need to skank themselves to the hilt.

And the men in my neighbourhood tend to be either Athletic Silver-Daddy clones — like in those American (not Canadian) cruise-vacation commercials — or the Sit-Com Best Buddy. You know, the best friend (or workmate) of the flabby, shlubby lead character — who’s inexplicably coupled with a cute, pert ‘n’ perky (but utterly competent) woman — the best friend who’s a bit of a loser but basically a good guy and a loyal friend. And then you see the best-buddy actor in Entertainment Weekly magazine or in some Battle of the Network Sub-Celebrities athletic competition and he’s missing that Ordinary Everyman look the producers cultivate for the show and shows off some seriously above-average handsomeness and an enviable physique, too.

The kind of serious handsomeness and enviable physique which would cause you to turn around after you pass him on the street and mutter, under your breath, “I’d so nail that,” and sometimes they turn around, too, and… hey, I really love my neighbourhood.