RIP, Big Bop
In my brief noodling around this weekend daydreaming of how to resurrect TOKink, I found out that the Big Bop has closed. *sniff*
To those not in the know, the Big Bop was a club on the corner of Queen & Bathurst, in Toronto. It was two stories, with big club spaces both upstairs and downstairs, as well two mezzanine rooms (one between the first and second floors, one a few steps up from the second); there were two staircases at opposite sides, and some of my fondest memories are of running up and down them in glorious chaos. It was a dive where the toilets regularly overflowed, the vinyl on the bar stools was bursting, and chipping black paint covered every surface -- and I knew and loved every inch of it.
My Big Bop story starts in high school, when my best friend and I, both 17, were dating a pair of best friends who were 20 (Americans: keep in mind the drinking age in Ontario is 19). At that time, the Bop was a more mainstream venue -- with a reputation for being lax on checking ID. So we dolled ourselves up and headed down there and indeed, we did get in. The thing I remember most about the night is some guy leering at me and asking if I wanted to "bang a gong" with him while I was on my way to the bathroom. To be fair, the T Rex song was playing, so he didn't come up with that entirely on his own. ;-)
A decade later, the Rheostatics, one of my favourite bands, had an impromptu gig upstairs to workshop some new songs. Gord Downie from the Tragically Hip was hanging out and joined them for a tune. On my way home on the streetcar that night I got a message from littlehoudini telling me that Princess Diana had died and it was all over the news.
Some five years after that was when my real love affair with the Bop began. They were the venue for a monthly fet night that my regular play partner and I never missed, despite the fact that as a fet night, it was actually pretty bad. This is the place where some woman leaned down into my face as I was strapped to a bench and said, "Oh my god, doesn't that hurt?".
I spent at least one New Year's Eve there, at that same fet night. That was the only time I ever felt compelled to slap a man. Short story: a complete stranger sidled up behind me on the dance floor and reached under my mini-skirt to grab my ass.
And then there was Dark Rave. Dark Rave was a monthly graver night (also deceased now, to my sadness). It's quite possible that that's where I heard psytrance for the first time. It was certainly where my inculcation into all-night dancing, and the general culture of things that go better with blacklight and glowing things, took place. We went there the weekend that amber_phoenix brought longueur up to introduce him to northbard and me; that was the club where longueur fell in love with me for a night.
It was through TOKink that I took my relationship with the club to the next level. It turned out it was ridiculously cheap to rent. For $250 you got the downstairs; $500 bought you the upstairs; $750, therefore, for the works. You charged whatever you wanted for the door and they took the bar. You brought in whatever equipment and food you wanted. The owner, Dominic, had a few misgivings about our crowd -- I had to assure him that nudity was in fact legal in a licensed space -- but he never turned us away, despite what must have been low bar sales. That was the place I hosted my last TOKink party and did my first "ink" scene, laying myself out to be my own goodbye card; it was one of the most (unassisted) euphoric nights of my life. That's when and where the photo I made this icon from was taken.
The Bop: 20% nasty, 80% awesome, and 100% missed.
To those not in the know, the Big Bop was a club on the corner of Queen & Bathurst, in Toronto. It was two stories, with big club spaces both upstairs and downstairs, as well two mezzanine rooms (one between the first and second floors, one a few steps up from the second); there were two staircases at opposite sides, and some of my fondest memories are of running up and down them in glorious chaos. It was a dive where the toilets regularly overflowed, the vinyl on the bar stools was bursting, and chipping black paint covered every surface -- and I knew and loved every inch of it.
My Big Bop story starts in high school, when my best friend and I, both 17, were dating a pair of best friends who were 20 (Americans: keep in mind the drinking age in Ontario is 19). At that time, the Bop was a more mainstream venue -- with a reputation for being lax on checking ID. So we dolled ourselves up and headed down there and indeed, we did get in. The thing I remember most about the night is some guy leering at me and asking if I wanted to "bang a gong" with him while I was on my way to the bathroom. To be fair, the T Rex song was playing, so he didn't come up with that entirely on his own. ;-)
A decade later, the Rheostatics, one of my favourite bands, had an impromptu gig upstairs to workshop some new songs. Gord Downie from the Tragically Hip was hanging out and joined them for a tune. On my way home on the streetcar that night I got a message from littlehoudini telling me that Princess Diana had died and it was all over the news.
Some five years after that was when my real love affair with the Bop began. They were the venue for a monthly fet night that my regular play partner and I never missed, despite the fact that as a fet night, it was actually pretty bad. This is the place where some woman leaned down into my face as I was strapped to a bench and said, "Oh my god, doesn't that hurt?".
I spent at least one New Year's Eve there, at that same fet night. That was the only time I ever felt compelled to slap a man. Short story: a complete stranger sidled up behind me on the dance floor and reached under my mini-skirt to grab my ass.
And then there was Dark Rave. Dark Rave was a monthly graver night (also deceased now, to my sadness). It's quite possible that that's where I heard psytrance for the first time. It was certainly where my inculcation into all-night dancing, and the general culture of things that go better with blacklight and glowing things, took place. We went there the weekend that amber_phoenix brought longueur up to introduce him to northbard and me; that was the club where longueur fell in love with me for a night.
It was through TOKink that I took my relationship with the club to the next level. It turned out it was ridiculously cheap to rent. For $250 you got the downstairs; $500 bought you the upstairs; $750, therefore, for the works. You charged whatever you wanted for the door and they took the bar. You brought in whatever equipment and food you wanted. The owner, Dominic, had a few misgivings about our crowd -- I had to assure him that nudity was in fact legal in a licensed space -- but he never turned us away, despite what must have been low bar sales. That was the place I hosted my last TOKink party and did my first "ink" scene, laying myself out to be my own goodbye card; it was one of the most (unassisted) euphoric nights of my life. That's when and where the photo I made this icon from was taken.
The Bop: 20% nasty, 80% awesome, and 100% missed.