So, this year seemed to have been bound and determined to close things off in the same way it carried things out the whole damned year, only in microcosm. Keep in mind the following all took place in the past 24 hours, and I’m not making anything up.
This afternoon I went to an office on Granville Island where a book awaits being picked up by me. It’s about new business marketing models taking into account the New Economy, yet is based on good, old-fashioned common sense. Sadly, they’re closed until January 5. Damn. Entirely my fault that I drove all the way across town without calling them first to make sure they were open, as was the lack of parking in the area (odd, considering this ought to be the ‘slack time’ for shopping there…), so there we are. I didn’t get a parking ticket for the expired parking meter, so that’s something.
On the way home, I stop in to check my lottery ticket, with unsuccessful results. Typical; the odds are against me, after all.
BANG! Right into the Mother Corp’s brand-new building!
Arrive home to discover that a parcel was delivered! But, it was while I’m out, so it’s not there and I’ll have to get it at the local post office depot tomorrow, after 13:00. Damn.
I try to match the bathroom tile – as part of the on-going project – at _____ Plumbing & Drainage, which seems a reasonable conclusion, given its name. The response therein was surprisingly blunt: “We’re a plumbing outfit!” Yes, well, this is bathroom tile, so… “First I’ve heard of that. We sell toilets!” The tiles are from a bathroom wall, which is the same room, so… “Bah!” Sorry to have wasted my your time.
Off to ____ Tile at the other end of my little town of Burnaby. The reaction from the girl behind the counter (and, trust me, this was a 20-year-old girl): “Wow this seems really old… did you buy that more than two years ago?” Attempting to control my hysterical laughter at the idea tile more than two-years-old could be considered “really old”, I merely reply “yes,” and don’t further explain to her that the socks and shorts I’m wearing are more than two years old. The chances are good that this tile is actually so old that her parents were not yet in puberty at the time it was purchased. Turns out that there will be a replacement available in plain, un-patterned, glossy, tile roughly matching the colour of the tiles we have now. Good, although not ideal. Fine, really, and certainly far easier than cleaning all the grout and mortar off the existing tiles without breaking them.
Driving around accomplishing all these tasks, however, was a bit of a task itself: the roads all a mess of directionless confusion. Why; especially as it’s the Tuesday between Christmas & New Year’s? Not a bloody clue! Getting to the second place about tile was a bit of a pain if you missed it initially, as you can only get into their parking lot from the one direction; once you’ve passed it, you enter the land of ‘you can’t get there from here’ road design. Mostly the roads were empty, except when attempting to go north through Willingdon and Canada Way, which was just as backed up past BCIT as it usually is. “Why am I doing this?” was a frequent refrain in the vehicle through most of this.
The radio is on, providing some tidbits of insanity:
yesterday’s mystery metal box, found in a residential refrigerator by the home-owner was blown-up by the Vancouver Police yesterday and they haven’t yet announced what was inside it;
ADDEDLATER: apparently it was a box containing explosive material because it’s traditional to leave stuff that blows up in your mother’s fridge at Holiday Time, and police are seeking the house owner’s son;
this morning a street guy stole a BMW following a verbal altercation with the driver, two people are dragged hanging on to the vehicle’s doors, as he reverses up one of Vancouver’s busiest streets and smashes it into the side of the CBC building which is so new it hasn’t even had that corner studio used yet (more details here, and also some photos here);
the traffic report includes word of a police incident in Port Coquitlam where a plane had to make an emergency landing in the middle of Reeves Street near Gate’s Park
ADDEDLATER: the emergency landing was in a soccer field, it was caused by fuel line problems; no-one was hurt but someone did have to move out of his way; and
anyone deciding to travel to the USA aren’t allowed to bring anything with them into the aircraft cabin other than the clothes they’re standing-up in, because we’re all presumed to be guilty of consorting with terrorists (and yesterday the entire computer system at the airportwas down for most of the day)
So… “2009: the year of WTF?!?!” in microcosm. What shall 2010 bring?
I’m terrified at the prospect, frankly.
Mood: frustrated Music:CBC Radio 1’s “On the Coast” with whoever the musicasl chairs host is today Book: Grant Morrison’s “The Invisibles” again
When a homeowner realizes that there’s no good ignoring one of those maintenance jobs with the typical ‘yeah… that really needs doing… yup… sure does…’, then it’s already far later than anyone would recommend. Anything that happens during the complicated process of the job… let’s call it a ‘repair’, really… okay ‘salvage’… anything that happens during that process – including the appearance of an Evil Lava Man direct from the Earth’s core as part of the job – all of it could have been avoided if you had simply got to the project a week ago. This is the thought which keeps smashing into the back of your eye-balls over and over as you fight the urge to hit someone in a Home Supply Centre, drag a someone randomly from a passing vehicle and make them take over the work, or simply solve the whole problem and set fire to the house.
Let’s turn to the visual aids, shall we? Could someone get the lights so we can start the slide show? Ta…
PLEASENOTE: this slide show represents all photos to date, beyond the date of this post
Because the captions on the photos don’t display, I’ll explain a few things you’re seeing. The tiles are coded so that they can go back on the wall in the same spots, as it’s possible – though unlikely – that some of them have been trimmed by varying amounts to fit the wall better. The seams have been sealed to varying degrees of success with packing tape for a few months, because I keep forgetting to get more Duct Tape® every time I go to the hardware store. The weird white stuff you keep seeing on the back of the tiles is the old mastic or mortar that the tiles were stuck on the wall with. The wall board to which they were adhered had absorbed moisture over time so the paper surface on the outside of the board then peeled away with the tile once the board’s core was no longer solid. The wall board might have been the right kind for a bathroom application, but obviously it’s no good anymore as the grey stuff was essentially mush and had to be chucked. It was made with asbestos, by the way; that’s the little hairs you can see on the edge-on shots of some of the tiles.
Yes, I said ‘asbestos’. No, handling only this amount isn’t going to kill anyone. Besides, the stuff is wet right now – which is why it is being replaced, after all – and asbestos-based material is only a problem when the fibres are air-borne, which requires the stuff to be dry as a bone. Again, obviously not our problem.
The puffy, yellow stuff behind the wall board is standard fibreglass insulation of the early-1970s, and has been removed from between the studs. For the past few days, the bathroom has been home to a constantly running space-heater – except for the time I caught my foot in the extension cord, pulled the plug out of the wall, then nearly fell through the entranceway’s window, slicing my head off, and scaring the bejeesus out of the cat – in an effort to remove as much moisture from the existing wood construction as possible before sealing it all up again, so it’s tighter than a chav on a August Bank Holiday Friday evening. The bathroom’s quite nice and warm, let me tell you, but the constant humming from the room is becoming tiresome. It’s a bit like having an old Kodak® Carousel™ projector being left on in there. It’s not annoying, but you do have an occasional urge to shout ‘enough already!’ at it once in a while. Which wouldn’t do any good, so you don’t bother.
After spending some time in the parking lot making several attempts to discover a way to get both these items in the car, it was determined that the Styrofoam® was a bit too long and the board a bit too large in either direction to fit inside the vehicle, even after folding down the back seat to open-up the trunk into the main compartment. The closest I could get was to have the foam sticking more than 21/2 feet out of the trunk and angling the board into the back seat through the rear passenger door which would then have to be left open whilst driving. Deciding that no police officer might be convinced that “no, really; it’s all right; it’ll be fine”, I returned to the store’s interior and ordered both items delivered, for the sum of $60. A van rental from the store for 11/2 hours would have been $20, but that’s just the base rate; there’s also mileage, taxes, gasoline, insurance, and so on… so it seemed a dead even thing by that point. Had we got a day’s insurance on the pickup truck, it might have been less, but as the truck hadn’t been insured yesterday, it was a moot point.
Having already taken almost an hour to navigate a cart through the aisles of the place, the cart bearing a half-inch thick, fifty pound board (it’s essentially a very thin concrete sheet), plus an eight foot long, two foot wide, three inch thick, rectangular object weighing about three ounces, then trying to fit both into a car without breaking or dropping either of them (and it was a bit windy, so manœuvring the insulation was a challenge at one point), I was frankly ready to pay any amount of money to rid myself of the problem.
So…
Later today two men will be shaking their heads as they deliver two relatively easy to move objects to a tiny man who clearly has never done an honest day’s work in his life, for a fee 50% more than the value of the products themselves.
Then I get to learn about cutting Styrofoam® and how one affixes fifty pounds of half-inch material to the wall without dropping it on one’s foot in the bathtub and then losing one’s balance, falling over, and slicing one’s head off on something and frightening the cat.
A couple of weeks ago, I installed Windows 7 in my computer, and it’s working fine. If it weren’t, you probably would not be reading this as the inter-net would be inaccessible by me, and I would have slashed my wrists by now due to withdrawal. Until last night, Jennifer’s computer wouldn’t connect to my printer, however, and her word processor seemed to be crapping out, when Windows XP wasn’t freezing up for no reason at all. Both of her problems have seemingly been resolved, however. Time will tell.
Right. So, that’s what is happening in our home at the moment. Offers of travel to somewhere warm – which must be both inexpensive and perfectly tiled – are welcomed. I know you’re out there, because the hits can’t all be caused by Russian SPAMers wanting to talk about grand pianos.
Or can they…? Maybe they could help with the re-tiling?
Mood: frustrated Music: The Jam, “Down in the Tube Station at Midnight”, All Mod Cons (Polydor, 1978) Book: John Llewellyn Probert’s The Catacombs of Fear (2009, Gray Friar Press, 978−1−906331−06−1)
For a start, you’re not moving from your chair for an hour. You’re going to watch this entire show, that’s why. It aired possibly only once (twice at the most) way back in the late-’80s on CBC and I don’t think it ever surfaced again. As far as I’m aware, it’s never been made available for purchase, either (or it certainly wasn’t ever advertised properly). The one time it definitely ran was during New Year’s Day, when people typically aren’t able to make sense of anything.
The following is the ‘mock-umentary’ about Canada’s secret plan to take-over the USA through our own Lebensraum programme turning America’s greatest weapon upon itself: the Entertainment Industry.
Some of the performances are inspired, some genius, and all with complete and enthusiastic co-operation. All those individuals identified as Canadians are, in fact, Canadians, no matter how easily you recognize them from American movies and TV. That’s just how successful ‘the Conspiracy’ was, you see.
The fact that the ‘news’ of this ‘conspiracy’ was disseminated on a day when most of the world was a bit hung-over, only leads to further PROOF of an attempt to COVER-UP ‘the TRUTH’!!
Profuse thanks to Sean for locating this on YouTube. You are a Rock Star, sir!
The rest of you: enjoy. The following may explain something of why I’m often seen sitting in corners of foreign rooms quietly listening to your conversations: a plot is being formed… Mwwaa-ha-ha!!
Mood: amused Music: David Bowie, “Cracked Actor”, Alladin Sane (1973, Columbia) Book: John Llewellyn Probert’s The Catacombs of Fear (2009, Gray Friar Press, 978−1−906331−06−1)
Last week we learned from Rick Mercer that there are a few things in Ottawa which are being done in a less than perfect manner. Only a little, but not entirely perfect if you really look hard.
Let us move on from that for a moment and see what Pembroke, Ontario has to show for the up-coming non-holiday of Hallowe’en, shall we? This aired originally on the 21st of October, 2009, and you will not believe the size of these gourds, nor the purpose to which some are employed afterwards.
As for me, at the time you’re reading this (no sooner than the 28th of October, 2009), I’m probably screaming blue murder at my computer; or in the direction of Redmond, Washington; or – more probably – both. Why? Well, I anticipate that around that point in the life of this planet I’ll be installing the new version of Microsoft’s operating system: Windows 7, Professional. Why did I choose to upgrade from the 9-year-old Windows XP, Professional? Well, it seems like a good idea right now (Friday, the 23rd of October), but it’s probably not a good idea to be asking me that question when you’re reading this as I may replace your lungs with a nice, shiny installation DVD with a nifty holographic image on one of its surfaces.
[for those of you wondering how Microsoft is promoting this OS in new and exciting ways – as well as way they might do so, if only they had a sense of humour – can check out E-Sarcasm’s coverage of Win7’s promotion]
How am I typing this on last Friday but you’re not reading it until the Wednesday following? Simple: I call it ‘MAGIC’!
Or, if you’re picky about it, “Scheduled, PHP-driven Publishing Using the WordPress Platform”. But that’s so maudlin, isn’t it?
Those of you who read the earlier paragraph about my anticipated struggles to simply install an Operating System (especially one which may not actually have any point to it replacing my current one), plus are tempted to mutter “psst! get a Mac!”, can either send me a couple of grand for some new hardware, plus the same again for some software that runs on the Mac OSX (because all my current stuff won’t); or you can merely shut your screech holes. Your choice, really. Thanks. Kisses, darling!
Mood: hopeful Music: Elvis Costello, “20 Per Cent Amnesia”, Brutal Youth (1994) Book: John Llewelyn Probert’s Against the Darkness (2009, Screaming Dreams, 978−0−9555185−5−3)
Sadly, Rick Mercer is not King of Canada. Hell, he’s not even King of Kensington! If he was the King of Kensington, he’d be dead, and then where would we be? Up a creek without a political satirist, that’s where we’d be!
What’s the point of all that? Very little, as usual.
The only purpose of that is to provide some sort of unique content before I simply paste in some HTML code from YouTube and act like I’m providing some sort of unique material you couldn’t have seen if you weren’t such a lazy bugger, got off your arse once in awhile, and dug through the Internet on your own!
Now here’s the video which originally aired on the 14th October, 2009.
Oh, why not; here’s another one. It aired originally last Tuesday; the 21st of October, 2009
Mood: amused Music: “Knee 1” performed by Lucinda Childs, from Philip Glass’s opera Einstein Book: John Llewelyn Probert’s Against the Darkness (2009, Screaming Dreams, 978−0−9555185−5−3)
Ian Alexander Martin [IAM] is the Proprietor of Atomic Fez Publishing, as well as formerly being an actor and theatre director based in British Columbia, and also was Founding Editor and Publisher of the theatre magazine The Boards. [read more]