While Canadians have always been known as some of the most polite people in the world, within our own country, Toronto has always gotten a bad rap. Well, I’m here to tell you that this just isn’t true.

On a recent evening in Toronto a group of us were taking a friend, who was visiting here from the States, to a top notch rock concert. We started the long trek from Thornhill at the height of rush hour, hoping to make it to the downtown core with time to spare for a little dinner first. And there we were, doing the usual sit…move an inch…sit…move an inch on the Don Valley Parkway when our very astute American friend noticed the empty lane to our left.

You know the one for vehicles with more than one passenger. With four of us in the car, we certainly qualified to be zipping along (no faster then the posted speed limit of course), but zipping none the less, and he asked the obvious question, why didn’t we move into that lane? It was so apparent to the rest of us in the car that we looked at him as though he had two heads and responded in unison “because you cannot cross on a solid line!” I don’t know if I have ever really seen the look “dumbstruck” before, but I surely saw it then. He was incredulous. “But it’s just a line” he said. He couldn’t understand why we would not cross the solid line when it would obviously speed up our journey. We explained that it was illegal and that when we arrived at the point where the lane allowed access, we would move over, and that is just what we did.

Once we made it downtown to the Air Canada Center, we parked the car and headed out to find somewhere to get a quick bite. For all those who have been to any concert in the city, you know that as soon as you get within three square blocks of any venue, you are accosted by ticket scalpers, looking to earn their monthly car payment. When the first of about ten different people asked if we needed tickets, our common response was “No thank you, we already have our tickets.” Again, our friend looked at us like he had never seen anything quite so odd. “Did you just say no THANK YOU? You just thanked a guy who was looking to illegally rip you off?” I responded to his amazement with a shrug. In my mind, it’s just common courtesy. Manners are manners. I was beginning to feel like I was on a children’s TV show. Are we really that polite?

When we found a restaurant to our liking and were seated, the lovely, young waitress arrived at our table and inquired as to whether we were going to the concert. If so, she would surely hurry our order so that we would make it to the concert on time. Again, our American companion was wowed by the simple courtesy extended to us, while we just took it for granted. Dinner was wonderful, expedited quickly, and soon we were off to the ACC. At this point I am almost embarrassed to tell you that we all stopped at a crosswalk. The light was amber, and although there was not a car in any direction, we waited for the light to turn green. Our friend however was already across on the other side of the street when he noticed that he was all alone. Once again, we explained the rules to him; never walk on a yellow light.

Once in the ACC, we found our seats with the help of a very nice usher, and sat down to enjoy the show. Without going into too much detail, the concert we were there to see was being put on by an aging ’60’s icon. One of those guys you saw in concert in your youth, but couldn’t quite remember actually being there because of the sweet, pungent smoke that filled the arena. Needless to say, the place was full of aging hippies, with their digital cameras, and original concert tee’s. And sure enough, as soon as the lights went down, the smoke went up. It was then that I really was struck by how polite we really are. When the gentlemen sitting in front of us lit up some sort of cigarette, the usher noticed and quickly came over, tapping one of them on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” he shouted over the din of electric guitars, “you’ll have to put that out, this is a non-smoking venue.” And with that, they extinguished whatever it was they were smoking and replied “Sorry.”
That’s when it really hit home. What they were smoking was illegal, as was lighting up in a public building. Everyone involved knew this, and yet our Canadian manners took over. There were no shouts of “I’m calling the police!”, although the arena was full of them. There were no evictions, although, the usher would have been well within her rights to do that. There was just a simple code; you can never go wrong with manners. So while we may not seem so polite as compared with the rest of Canada, compared to the world around us, you will never find kinder, friendlier, more polite people then Torontonians. Let the rest of Canada think what it will, we know the truth.

By Pam Eisen-Goldfarb