Sweet City Mtl.

"The Expos lead the Cardinals 3-2 in the bottom of the third inning. Now hitting for the Cards..." the announcer on the radio tells us in the background. His voice is just one of many. Tonight is like any other eclectic vibrant early evening in the city. The sun is still strong and shining but it is hitting our faces with the softness of a master painter's brush. "Un espresso svp" I ask the waitress as I overlook the street filled with some of the finest women in the world. "Nous sortons ce soir?" I overhear someone asking her friend on her cell. Of course, they are. This is a peaceful sin city. What else should young people do? I see on the television the Alouettes beat the Eskimos. Sweet.

In the distance live outdoor jazz by the continent's finest play to thousands of joie de vivre types. They pour into the cafe speaking in all sorts of languages. Many styles and types congregate and conspire in a kaleidoscope of colours that only this city can capture. A comedian is practicing in the corner trying his crack at the festival. Cyclists carefully, yet aggressively, weave around pedestrians. No one seems to care. Drivers stare into the street wishing they were part of the scene. I notice a young kid sitting in the back seat of one car soaking it all in. He'll be here one day. Maybe in my chair. Absorbing the magic that is Montreal.

'Birth of the Cool' is a Miles Davis bebop masterpiece that should be dedicated to this city. It is a place where cool and hip are born and come to be buried. In this very instance two solitudes are performing and entertaining New Yorkers and Bostonians. Imagine that. Montreal holds its place among the great metropolitans of this magnificent continent.

"The Expos are now 2 games behind the Phillies in the East..." Oscar Peterson's 'Night Train' is now playing. My girl finally finishes her shift and joins me. The night continues. It moves on like no other city can on this sweet warm summer night.

Montreal Expos RIP.