At the turn of the century, a buddy and I pitter-patterned down the West Coast. Vancouver to San Diego, touching stops along the way. One of them was Vegas. We rolled in off a Greyhound from LA, which was already its own cracked-out saga. Tired, wrung out, and armed with nothing but an address scribbled on a scrap of paper, we hopped in a taxi.

The destination was a dead-average bungalow just off the Strip. Nothing flashy. Back then, tech wasn’t everywhere, so when the driver needed to sort the route, he pulled over and cracked open a battered Las Vegas A–Z road map. Completely normal behaviour at the time. No GPS. No apps. Just paper, memory, and vibes.

That moment stays with me because while we were sitting there, parked on the shoulder with the early morning light creeping in, the taxi suddenly got boxed. Silent. Clean. Multiple police cruisers, out of nowhere. I hadn’t clocked them pulling up. Didn’t clock doors opening. Then suddenly there were officers at the windows with guns drawn, barrels close enough to feel personal. Another cop tapped the driver’s window with his gun, checking if we were robbing him.

It was absurdly over-the-top. No conversation. No questions. Just straight to maximum response.

That West Coast trip was, overall, a good run. But I’ve had zero urge to go back since. And as wild as that moment felt back then, everything since has only turned that volume up. I honestly don’t know how much further it can go.

I’ve met bare Americans over the years who don’t match the caricature — good people, switched on, generous with their time and their thinking. They’ve always moved proper with me. That’s why what’s unfolding down there hits different.

But from up here — from a city that lives right next to the blast radius — it’s unsettling. Toronto feels the tremors first. The dollar, the jobs, the supply chains, the mood. We catch it all. We’re tied into their chaos whether we rate it or not. As a Canadian, I want us to pattern up, protect ourselves, and stop pretending proximity equals safety.

At the same time, I don’t want to watch a neighbour spiral into something darker, louder, and more heavily armed than it already is.

Because when things slide down there, cities like Toronto don’t get to spectate. We just brace.