Drake Mansion Driveby, 2:30 a.m.
It was shopping time again last night. I shop in the wee hours because fewer people are in the stores and I live with a senior… a very robust, healthy, and happy senior… and I want to keep it that way!
Pretty soon I will be designated as a senior myself, but being responsible for another person’s well being, well, it’s a good thing. It sobers you up and makes you think twice.
So I Googled the 24-hour store where I shop and noticed a third location that I have never visited. It’s about the same distance as the other 24-hour stores and picking up an Amazon parcel at a nearby Hub Locker, I sort of followed my instinct and found myself driving to this new spot.
The route takes you past a very wealthy neighborhood. I’m not talking about the rich but the filthy rich. Canadian folk legend Gordon Lightfoot lives there. And so does Drake. Well, Drake has one of his mind-boggling mansions there. I’m sure he has others in the US and who knows where.
Even this Toronto location is pretty, as I say, mind-boggling.
The funny thing is, as i drove by at about 2:30 a.m. the whole, incredibly posh area really felt like a graveyard. Perfect Halloween drive!
All the properties have huge fences and gates. Loads of security apparatuses. And generally a feeling of… well, I hate to say it but… I’m glad I was just driving by and not living there.
It felt dead and heavy to me. (Although things lightened up when I got past it and near a leafy lane where I used to park for first-year university… but that’s another tale!).
Not that I wouldn’t mind some of Drake’s cash. Don’t get me wrong. I just don’t really understand what goes on in the minds of people like that.
Not judging. More just curious.
As a little synchronicity – I wrote my doctorate on that, and they do happen – I had the radio on Virgin FM while still at the Hub Locker. This was before I knew which 24-hour store I’d be shopping at.
I like to play it by ear, whenever possible.
So the lady DJ comes on after a Drake tune and says, “Ahhh… Drake. Wouldn’t it be nice to be in his bubble on the Bridle Path!”
And not because of that but just because it felt right, I found myself driving past Drake’s pad a little later en route to the store.
With zero traffic, all sorts of thoughts when through my mind.
- What makes someone like that “cool”?
- Did he know at a young age that he was destined for massive fame?
- If so, how did that feeling affect his attitude and behavior?
- What does he do day in and day out?
- Is he looking at his phone, dreading a text from some nagging manager, telling him to not forget his next gig?
- How, when, and where does he write his stuff?
- How busy is he?
- What other interests does he have?
- Who does his housecleaning? Can he trust them?
See, Drake may be famous but he’s still just a guy like the rest of us. And I am always curious not so much about the glam but the ordinary side of superstars.
We all began in the same place and we’ll end the same.
And this ‘middle of the road’ driveby that I took last night, I’ll admit, did not feel grand but almost like a big, gold-plated cage.
Almost obscene, really.
When you consider how so many folks are just desperately trying to get enough grub to stay alive, let alone find a job.
Again, nothing against Drake. I like some of his stuff, even if it is starting to sound all the same.
I wonder how long he can keep connecting with the younger crowd who shelled out for his mansion?
And where will he be after that?
So went my thoughts last night… Nothing profound. Just a little trip past The Rich Folks’ Graveyard…