So, here I am in Montreal and the pot banging has just started. I'm in this typical neighbourhood, staying in a nice 2nd floor walk-up that is an apartment hotel. I feel I'm in a Richler novel! I was staying well out of the downtown. Now the pot banging has stopped, didn't last long.
Update: I'm back now. It was like living in the 50's. Much like the US psyche is defined by toilet seat covers, these brownstones define Montreal. I have many new insights, none of which I am sharing. :)