I had some important business to attend to in Toronto last week, and given that I'll be spending over 20 hours on Air Canada getting to Australia on Wednesday (heading off to Just For Laughs Sydney, where I'll be directing both John Cleese-hosted Galas on September 3), I decided to hop into the car and drive there. Over and above the mega-flight rationale, I figured some highway riding, coupled with hours worth of tunes, would be a good way to relax and travel from another perspective.
I can't remember the last time I drove to Toronto (I remember the first time though, about 30 years ago for a rock 'n' roll memorabilia show with photographer Lawrence Kirsch and human cartoon character Neil Bubis), but I get notoriously bored and tired on the road, and one thing I wasn't looking forward to was the three or four stops at those skanky highway gas stations/restaurants to grab coffee and refresh. (The Kinks summed up my feelings best in an old tuned called "Motorway," which outlines the myriad horrors of such locales.)
I left on a Sunday (perhaps a mistake given how late I was out on Saturday and the time I had just spent at the gym), and after about two-and-a-half hours, I was dangerously exhausted. You know the feeling--heavy eyelids, constant yawning, wandering attention. It was time for the first pit-stop.
And for this week's big surprise.
The once-grimy rest stops had been replaced by something called ONroute. Each ONroute had a selection of fast-food familiars (i.e. Tim Horton's, Starbucks, East Side Mario's, Burger King, etc.), an info centre, and a convenience store Market surrounding a middle section of tables, chairs and overstuffed easy chairs that made the place look more like a living room...or an upscale airport lounge. That's one below:
The toilets--where most rational mortals fear to tread--were tidy and pleasant. Each urinal had a shelf to put keys, wallets, phones or, in my case, all of the above plus coffee. Sinks were polished aluminum. There was even a special water source for pets.
But what really threw me was the uber-organization of the aforementioned Market stores. They were well lit and spotless. The precision and aesthetic value of the way in which the goods were shelved reminded me of some of the more notable shops I visited when in Japan.
The end result was, after a 10-minute stopover, I felt refreshed and ready to go.
Frankly, it was as if I had taken a nap.
What did it? Yeah, could've been the coffee, but I can down a double-espresso at 10:00 p.m. and have no problem getting to sleep (there are a lot of things that keep me up at night, but coffee isn't one of 'em).
Could've been the two sour cream glazed Timbits.
Could've been the three vials of 5-Hour Energy...I'm kidding, but they were there if I really wanted 'em.
What did it was this week's lesson (one which confirms that Francis Bacon was almost biblical):
Cleanliness is indeed
next to Godliness
There's something kinda mystical about clean
May sound nuts, but think about how much better you feel working on a clean desk.
Think about how much better it feels walking into a kitchen with sparkling floors and an empty sink.
Think about--and this is really extreme, but I know you'll be nodding along in agreement--how much better your car seems to run after a wash.
This revelation should come as no great shock to readers of Malcolm Gladwell's landmark work "The Tipping Point," where he explains how Mayor Rudy Giuliani transformed New York from the bottom up, starting with fixing broken windows and scrubbing the graffiti. The sense of cleanliness and order built a base upon which he was able to affect greater change.
The sparkling nature of ONroute, the comfy chairs, the chill atmosphere, the bright lighting and the sense of order did wonders for my psyche.
I gotta tell you, feeling my exhaustion evaporate, feeling reinvigorated, I've seen the light, the bright and the white.
I'm a believer.
Pass me the mop.