Toronto
Dispatches from the Great White North
“We’re going to Winnipeg!”
Those were the words of my friend, David DiMolfetta, a DC-based journalist pal of mine who accompanied me to Toronto for a visit to another friend, also named David.
What was in Winnipeg? Besides being Canadian David’s hometown and the butt of an awful inside joke, not much.
Our visit to Canada taught me a few things. First, Canadians have the right answers for more than public-private partnerships. They provided a new sense of hope for Gold Standard city clubs than this club curmudgeon thought possible.
And, I also learned that my absent-mindedness knows no limits as I forgot my laptop on the security conveyor belt rushing to a flight that was ultimately delayed by 45 minutes.
Please enjoy today’s dispatch issue—on Clubland’s 1 year anniversary. Please be sure to share with your friends and family.
Newbies at the National Club
By: Leonard A. Robinson
The adage that says, “A picture is worth a thousand words”, hits differently when you’ve forgotten to take the actual photo.
As a truly well-behaved Clubman, the natural placement for my phone is always away. Away from my fingers to accidentally hit record and away from objects that can be photographed.
This turned out to be a grave mistake at the National Club, especially as I raved about my experience to the host who responded by asking, “So, did you get a photo?”
Gobsmacked.
Arriving at the Bay Street clubhouse reminds one of Manhattan’s Downtown Association as both are hidden in plain sight along a bustling street filled with young workers in Patagonia and brown shoes carrying mystery bowls of lunchtime slop.
A gold plaque at the door commemorates the club’s legacy as the home for Canada First, the nationalist movement led by George Denison, Henry Morgan, Charles Mair, William Foster and Robert Grant Haliburton. Canada First’s temperament as a movement was that of British Protestantism which becomes evident throughout your time at the Club as much of the club’s appeal is the classic understated, almost quiet luxury of the building held sturdy by marble columns and over a century of history.
David DiMolfetta and I had lunch at the 1874 Bar and Grill followed by afternoon cigars on the rooftop patio where members built an outdoor gazebo to brave the chilly temperatures.
Pictures would’ve done great justice here.
David ordered a Poke bowl while I ordered a Korean-inspired fried chicken sandwich (yes, yes my cholesterol levels are fine). And yours truly also ordered a bone dry gin martini that was served in a comically girthy glass.
For a Friday afternoon, the club’s grill was surprisingly busy. There were only three empty tables near us in a room of perhaps 30 and staff were certainly pacing with a sense of urgency.
A waiter informed me that this was not abnormal for a Friday as many members chose to take their clients, colleagues and friends for a Friday lunch at the club. Music to this Club Cats ears!
After our meal, we grabbed our Coronas — which per Canadian law must have bland green wrapper covers — and headed to the gazebo where we were greeted by the other tobacco loving members.
It was among the most entertaining 90 minutes of our entire four-day visit as we talked hockey, cigars, the world of being journalists and writing a clubby Substack, our least favorite reciprocals and unsolicited marriage advice.
Members in the gazebo ranged from 2 years to two decades going strong. One remarked when asked, “Longer than my wife would like to admit”.
Asked what kept them remaining as members, the answer wasn’t the club’s proximity to their office, cigars or even the food. Each said that they had met a new friend and the Club had become an easy venue for maintaining and growing that friendship.
Although it sounds cliche, there’s a lesson for clubs and their members to learn.
At that moment, I glanced at David taking a sip from his martini. Here was a friend who joined me in a foreign country at a moment’s notice to meet a random friend of mine who shared his name — without asking many follow-ups.
And the Toronto Club gave me the opportunity to give the greatest gift that Clubland has to offer: warm hospitality.