When I walk into an airport, I am a different person. I don't mean in a metaphorical or existential sense, I mean technically. My official name on my passport is Jeffrey Paul Dore and so when I am checking in, going through security or customs, I must remember to answer to Jeffrey. With all our technological advancements, computers are still not able to parse out names. When booking tickets, you usually have to include both your names and for some reason, every time, my name spits out as jeffreypaul Dore. Checking in beforehand online or through the machines at the airport are deemed unusable by me. The machines can't determine that my name is not jeffreypaul and reject me each time.

So, we certainly don't have to worry about machines taking over Terminator 2 style anytime soon. One of the last times I traveled south of the border, upon checking in to a real actual person, she said, "Oh, good luck with making that flight." I mean, okay, if I wasn't going to make it that's on me, but I certainly didn't need to additional anxiety.

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Queen Street in downtown Toronto is probably my favorite strip of city. I walk it almost everyday to get to my office. I'll sometimes go out of my way to just walk down Queen Street. There's always something going down and interesting people hanging around at all hours of the day and night. And you never know what could happen. I've seen Spider-Man skateboarding down the street, bumped into artists from Berlin, people shouting at no one and all manner of music, both pouring out of bars or from some random person singing a cappella.

I was walking to my office in the early afternoon and approaching Queen Street West and Augusta Avenue. Almost at the intersection, a man passed me. Normal-looking guy, probably mid-30s, dressed somewhat 'preppy', as the kids might say. As he walked by me, he made eye contact but did not stop walking. He made a motion that usually symbolizes don't go in there. He lifted his hand, palm open and furiously moved it perpendicular across his neck.

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This all makes me uncomfortable. But you’re supposed to take risks, right? Get out of your comfort zone. Whatever. I’m talking about this new podcast I’m doing called Storytime with Paul Dore. I put my name in the title to intentionally make myself uncomfortable.

Let me explain.

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So, let's just get this out of the way first. This entry is going to be all about how much of a grumpy old man I am becoming. I get it, I'm aware, let's just move on.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to see the movie Get Out. I don't have to go on and on about how great this movie was, there are many other outlets that have expressed this opinion and I agree with them all. Go read about the movie somewhere else. Maybe HERE.

No, what I'd like to discuss is going to the movie theatre. There was a point in my life when I went to see a movie in the theatre at least once a week. Often, I went by myself, which I had no problem doing. I was - and still am - a single person, we need to participate in cultural experiences any way we can. Get over it.

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