THING

OK, we're here in the parking lot on College, near Markham St. We're beside what I like to call the Illuminati building -- it has a partially erased mason's symbol on the north wall foundation stone, and, equally curiously, a partially erased painting on the west wall. Looking closely at this painting reveals it to be a graffiti angel.

First of all, Angel, thanks for granting this interview.

[Silence.]

Some say you're a symbol of fugitive beauty. Some say you're a human handprint in the urban landscape. Some say you're vandalism. What say you?

[Silence, but a silence that knows itself.]

When you were young, did you imagine you'd be this ephemeral?

[Silence that speaks the meaninglessness of chronology.]

Odds are, with the frenetic rate of gentrification and the evil moneyfucking in this city, you'll be obliterated pretty soon. Your comments, theories, suppositions?

[A silence that I took to mean: I can never be destroyed. I flow through the city like water.]

Thanks for your time.

PLACE

I first noticed it when it was snowing great big flakes on a calm night. I turned up an unfamiliar street and noticed a few stained glass pictures hanging in the window -- the central picture was a corvette and beneath it, PETER'S. A neon sign proclaiming the same with the addendum GARAGE, had three wireframe layers that created a 3-D effect. A mural contained small medieval flags with the words "Peter's" and "Garage."

All in all, there were six reminders that this was in fact a garage, and it belonged to Peter.

Hungry for understanding, I popped in on Peter one day as he was lunching on some bread and fish. Posing as a OCA student studying the marketing tactics of small businesses (a victimless ruse), I was permitted an interview. I activated my recorder, but Peter insisted I not tape the conversation -- media savvy, he informed me that I would need a "contract" for that. I offered to draw one up on the napkin, but he didn't feel that it would be adequate. I acquiesced, and slipped my tape recorder into my pocket, accidentally activating it as I did so.

Despite this, the low, eastern European-accented voice of Peter make a transcript impossible. But I learned several things: the stained glass windows were a gift, it seems, from satisfied customers; the mural was the work of one of his mechanics on a series of slow days. I never really got an answer to my question about whether he created different signs to target different clientele (i.e. the wooden hanging sign to attract the folksy rustic, the neon to appeal to the near-blind customer) but I felt like I was able to get him to open up. The highlight of the interview was when he shrugged casually and said: "Signs is nice."

He just flicked a piece of fish bone off of his fingers and let it sink in. The rest of the interview was the dénouement. We discussed various aspects of the business, but we both knew the goods had already been delivered. As soon as possible, I apologized for interrupting his lunch, and left the shop a richer man.

PERSON

I first came across Mark Slutsky in the role he's best known for: the grimly hilarious Mr. Lee in Mr. Lee Rocks the Boat, the story of an oriental bedwetter and the elastic band factory he co-manages with his wife. Despite that being a lie, there is really a lad named Mark Slutsky and he is really a friend of mine. I interviewed him on "the name" at a well-known café near Spadina and Bloor.

When did you first know that your name was not as others?

Well, I guess I must have been a little kid. I actually remember very specifically a moment where my father took me aside and asked me if I got any flack for my name. Naïve me, I said, "Mark? What's wrong with Mark?"

How do people give you flack?

It's usually in a very formulaic way. The Slutsky Formula, as it were. Um, alright... there are a few standard responses to it, the first is generally "Is that your real name?" And so I say yes. "Have you ever noticed that..." then they trail off. I've got a couple of options when they say that. My preferred one is just to play dumb, get them to say it, because the onus is on them. Another common question is "Do you have a sister?"

Clever.

Very clever.

And do you have a sister?

The interesting thing is I don't. And I find people often treat me in a condescending way. These experiences are mostly culled from my camp days. Not exactly a shining moment. Let's see... "Do you have a sister?" "No." "That's good." "Why is it good? I have a mother, female. I also may one day wed. A female will get the name, eventually."

Have you ever seriously considered changing the name?

For about two seconds. I realized it's much more of an asset. Once I've got the name, [pointing to himself] I've got the power. Because knowledge is power.

It's like a superpower.

It is. NameGuy. First of all, it's a great ice breaker. [Easy laugh.] Second of all, it's forced me to have a sense of humor about myself, and not take my success too seriously. A lot of people in this town, it goes straight to their heads. It's kept me grounded.

In terms of getting laid... has it helped?

Helped? [Half modest, half insinuating laugh] It's helped. Carnality. Carnality is in the air as soon as my name is mentioned.

You don't even have to waggle the eyebrows.

There's lots to be said about having a distinctive name. But if you're associated with the novelty of a funny name, you can become a bit of a cartoon character.

Any funny incidents?

The old attendance action, of course. The first day of class was always a bit uncomfortable [shifts uncomfortably] for me... my name was usually at the end of the list, so I had that build-up, too. Will it be Slutsky, Slootsky? My mother's gotten some pretty interesting mail... Shitsky, Slotsky...

Wow, anything but... It's like they're afraid of it, you know?

They'll write "shit" but not... Oh, and another little tidbit: "So are you a slut that skis?" And it's this amazing visual image. That's probably the most potent thing about my name, because you see this tart zooming down a mountain... It's a big hit on the slopes.

You're one of the funniest guys I know. How much of it is due to the name?

Well, the name has had a big influence on my personality... but there were other influences. There were my polo days. Lacrosse was obviously a big influence. The movie Fame, another big influence on my personality.

How would you suggest the average person deal with the name, and silly names in general?

Well, there's really two routes you can take when you encounter a Slutsky, or a Hymen, or a Cockface, or whatever... you can politely ignore it.

Is that really polite, though? Isn't there a feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop?

I prefer when it's acknowledged in a lightly humorous way... without being stupid about it. If they don't say anything, I know they're thinking it, and if they say something stupid, well, then they're stupid.

Have you ever become friends with people who start out by asking stupid-ass questions?

Well, I've never really forged a bond with anyone who asked if I had a sister.

Any final words?

I just want the kids to know that if you want to change your name -- if you're ashamed of it -- just make sure you know who you are.