The High Dials and The Disraelis at the El Mocambo, September 27, 2008

Unfortunately, at this point in my life, I attend few live shows, though I enjoy seeing bands perform immensely. Watching a good live performance is often cathartic and usually occasions in me deep feelings of regret that I am not on the stage with a group of like-minded musicians.

Music, particularly live, is primal and carries the power of the simple soul. I imagine the first singers must have shocked themselves and their audiences with their expression, regardless of their intention. I'm sure I feel some of that wonder when I see a great performance. I was certainly impressed on Saturday night.

The Disraelis are a strange beast. They are three talented musicians trying to do something old and somewhat obscure in a time when audiences seem always to demand new (even when that new is often regurgitated old). The band has been together for a few years now, but I hadn't had the pleasure of hearing their music until Saturday. They are all friends of mine for many years, but I have been away, even while at home. Actually, I wasn't expecting them to be good, since I had heard some negative things in their early days. Nonetheless, I wanted to see them—after talking to two of them the day before the show for the first time in a long time, I was excited to see them—and I couldn't go wrong with a bill featuring The High Dials at the El Mo.

For a bunch of current or former mods, you might expect a rehash of The Who or The Jam, but The Disraelis' influences are clearly more recent—if still not current. I suppose they show their ages, being approximately my age. Here is where I feel conflicted. I find music reviewers lazy when they write 100 or 1000 words simply comparing their subject to other bands. Music writing should be creative; most is just sad. But I, myself, have a hard time watching shows or listening to albums critically without making such comparisons. Maybe the creative act in music writing lies elsewhere. So, if you want the simple overview, here it is: The Disraelis sound like a band from the Manchester scene of the 80s transplanted into the present day, but without the firm guiding hand of a great producer. (I'm not sure Toronto is lucky enough to host a producer as talented as Stephen Street or Martin Hannett.) From the first notes, I heard New Order, and the impression stuck with me throughout. They clearly also show a reverence for The Stone Roses. And I suppose I might say that that says it all, but that would be lazy, wouldn't it?

It was simple post-disco drum beats—not quite the kind that all cool bands seem to offer—but played so earnestly and almost certainly with clear knowledge of their source; it was driving bass lines, mostly unpretentious and unselfconscious; it was straight-up vocals, in the vein of Bernard Sumner, that didn't try to overpower the music but willing and ready to burst out in the moment; and it was melodic, playful guitar, nonchalant and flowing, that brought the sound together. These guys know their influences and aren't afraid to show it.

What I find refreshing is that, while so many bands try to emulate "the 80s sound"—because electro-pop is so cool—The Disraelis live it because they lived it. Not only that, but they are recreating or revisiting or reinvesting a side of music that hasn't really been revived, and they don't seem to care if it has mass appeal. The 70 or so people at the club watching seemed to appreciate them, too, though you can be sure that many among the audience were friends. In any case, if you like poppy rock music, particularly that Manchester style, this is a Toronto band worth seeing.

The High Dials must be one of the hardest-working bands in Canada, and now that I've seen them, I think they must be the most under-appreciated. I followed these guys when Trevor Anderson headed the Datsons, but foolishly I haven't followed since they grew out of their mod phase. Now I know just how foolish I was. The Datsons were tight back in the day, and they put on an excellent high energy power pop show. Apparently, I missed a few years of kick-ass shows by not paying The High Dials much (er, any really) attention until now.

Adding to the excitement of the night, the band's bass player was involved in a car collision on his way to the club and had to visit the hospital to get checked out. So the crowd waited over an hour between bands and The High Dials finally went on after midnight. You may have guessed that I thought it worth the wait. Unfortunately, quite a few others didn't. By the time they came on, there were probably only 40 people in the audience.

Anyway, it didn't matter. I was under the rock'n'roll magic from the first moment. The sound in the club was exquisite—each note rang out, even in the half-empty room, and the band came together like I don't often see. These guys are good, and if you like rock music, I think you will have a hard time finding better.

I wonder what it is that keeps this band below the radar. Their music may not be the most innovative thing coming out these days, but that doesn't mean it's not exciting. Over the last few years I've noticed a thoughtfulness and even a sort of wisdom entering the music and words of new bands, especially in the words. It often takes the form of a simple, stripped-down, and rootsy rock music, unconcerned with the schizophrenia of contemporary rock and avant garde pop. Instead the music is a vehicle for an experience and the expression of this new ethic. The High Dials are such a band, and their music is exciting in spite of its familiarity, and heck, it's definitely danceable, in a cool way.

The Soundtrack of our Lives was the first band that really conjured in me this depraved notion of simple wisdom in rock music. But I recognize it now in The Brian Jonestown Massacre and a number of others, as well as in some more cutting edge stuff, like !!!. I saw it in the High Dials at the El Mo, as I stood impressed throughout the show—and the extra long two-song encore.

It wasn't a perfect show, but it was pretty easy to forgive the late start and forget about the off moments. On a few occasions I saw The Datsons rock a club full of people, and I'm certain that The High Dials can do better. So I recommend everyone see them. Luckily, Toronto will host them again, after they finish a brief U.S. tour. Check them out at the Horseshoe, November 11. Read on..!

Entering the fray

I find myself in a strange position relative to the upcoming Canadian election. The choice seems so starkly clear: progress or regress, acting boldly or procrastinating weakly. But in Canadian politics no choice is clear. There are always so many factors at play: four or five parties to choose from, four of which are arguably on the progressive side, either socially, economically, or both; past behaviour, which in the short term almost invariably plays against the reigning party; the numerous cultural divides—East and West and Centre, French and English, Rural and Urban; the not-so-creeping advance of "American-style" attack and smear politics; and principles, those poor mistreated things.

It almost makes one admire the simplicity of our neighbour's two-party republic, and it certainly highlights the failings of the first-past-the-post electoral system in the present day, in Canada at least. Let me say this: Canada has a de facto two-party system. It has always been this way, and it will likely remain this way until we demand some form of proportional representation. What I mean by that is that there are two strong national political parties in Canada, which generally trade turns governing the country. They do this not by winning the most votes, but by winning the most ridings, effectively preventing any other party from gaining a significant hold on power. They win the most ridings by either dividing the activists from the moderates, or by playing on our fears and dividing and conquering.

There are other parties; indeed there have been quite a number in Canada's great history, spanning the political spectrum. The current Conservative party was actually formed from a coalition of two previous "right-wing" parties. These alternative parties commonly win large percentages of the popular vote (the NDP won 17.5 percent in 2006...), which rarely amount to a similar number of actual seats in Parliament (...but only 9.4 percent of the seats).

One thing is: our existing system favours the major parties; only partly because they are more centrist in scope. Certainly, the greater part of Canada's population falls in the centre of the political spectrum, but clearly, given the voting results, many people look to other parties, for many possible reasons.

Another thing is: political partisanship in itself simplifies politics and encourages simplistic views and opinions, particularly at this media-drenched time. It encourages our representatives to insult us during elections by attacking, dividing and lying. Moreover, for some reason, our system discourages multi-party coalition governments, though to me, this seems like an ideal solution, considering our several progressive parties. Instead, the system demands strategic voting in order to encourage a majority win for one party. Often—and currently—in order to prevent an undesirable party from gaining a majority, voters have to choose between voting for their preferred candidate or voting for the party most likely to win. This is usually an evil choice, offering no satisfaction for the undecided, and the incumbent party can easily take advantage of the situation.

And another: the media distort the messages of all the parties to support the one they believe in. They show ads that are offensive and often highly dubious; they irresponsibly base so much of their election reporting on polls, knowing that in our system these cannot represent the final numbers; they collude to exclude dissenting voices from the political debate.

Such is the state of our confederation. But I'm not pessimistic about the outcome. I believe in the Canadian spirit and Canadian intelligence. We are better and smarter than the current level of debate happening in the country right now and I think we won't be cowed by scare tactics and insults. It seems clear that many or most of us have been inspired by the dignity Barack Obama has shown in the U.S. election campaign, and I'm sure we dream that we could have a candidate of similar stature and oratory skill. Canada has not seen such a person since Pierre Trudeau.

But no candidate is perfect, and certainly no political party is perfect. Certainly, they must earn our trust and act responsibly, but we also must think clearly and vote responsibly. In our case, unfortunately, this means examining what you want Canada to look like in the coming years, and how you think your vote might best achieve that end. It's "strategic", and I hate it, but it's where we are and who we are, and it's our duty. Read on..!

A new model for the music industry

In the beginning of Rock’n’Roll music there was the Guitar. It was pretty easy to learn, Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley played it, and it probably corrupted your youth. With the increasing complexity of guitar playing, particularly the Solo, came the Air Guitar. It’s an imaginary instrument—occasionally brought to life by a broom or tennis racquet—that anyone can play with the least amount of skill or coordination, and it has become so popular that somebody made a wide-release zany documentary about it. And now, in the age of entertainment, there is the Virtual Guitar, embodied in such video games as Guitar Hero, Rock Band, Gitaroo man, and Frets of Fire. Here everybody from air guitar wannabes to actual guitar players uses a miniature plastic guitar-shaped controller to play along to some classic and current rock tunes. Maybe you begin to see the possibilities already?

The appeal of these virtual guitar-playing games is very broad: you get to play (or feel like you’re playing) guitar along with some great and some awful songs (you might be surprised by what songs or bands you start to like), and without ever having to take a lesson. Inexperienced players should find that the easier levels are not at all difficult to learn and play, without being boring; it becomes challenging quite quickly for experienced players, and actual guitar-playing ability can be of little help; and at no matter what level, you get to listen to music and play a fun game at the same time—it has your undivided attention—you are taking part in creating the music. That may sound odd at first, but I think it’s entirely warranted and I’ll tell you why.

Here are some things to think about: The music industry is in a sort of crisis, unwilling to admit that the old industry model (much simplified: charging high prices for low quality, and trying to control who “owns” the product, be it a physical CD or a virtual MP3) is no longer viable. In part, mass internet usage and reality TV shows such as American Idol, Big Brother and others that promise instant fame (or at least your 15 minutes), have created widespread demand for a New Experience, not fully passive like television, but not quite physical or social. Both of these factors are exacerbated by growing competition in the entertainment arena, which has increased dramatically, particularly in recent years, with video games making up much of that competition. Also, content pirating is easy and rampant, and, worldwide, legislation on the issue is unclear. Music, which used to colour our lives, has become background music—wallpaper. It is boring, to the point that, for many people, it’s simply not worth the price. What has music done for me lately?

Enter Mediated Interactivity. All the entertainment, but with little of that awkward social-personal stuff, and all within precisely programmed, edited and strictly enforced boundaries. But that’s only a part of my point. Often we don’t realize just how broad the spectrum of entertainment media has become. And as a result, we fail to recognize that we are demanding more from those media. We are now so used to getting what we want when we want it that we find the slow pace at which the big guns in the music industry are changing very frustrating. More media—films, TV, video games, music, books (believe it or not), the internet is a big one with news, “social” networking, gambling, role-playing games, &c.—are competing for an expanding leisure market; but most of these things can only be effectively consumed independently of each other. I can’t listen to music properly while I’m watching TV or a movie. I can’t really surf the internet while playing a video game. Certainly, I can try, but I will naturally divide my attention. In some cases attempts have been made to combine entertainment media. Increasingly, for example, current bands are being featured in TV shows and movies—this is hardly new and it remains passive; and online games have become about as common as e-mail. But even when playing games that allow for some multitasking, I may be “on” the internet, but my attention must be either on the game or on some other website, not both. American Idol on the other hand, though not exactly based on a novel premise, has introduced a measure of interactivity to entertainment. You—lucky you!—get to help choose a pop star directly, without all of that silly intervening stuff like hearing about a cool new artist from an eager friend, waiting for them to come to your town, going to see the show with two other people and the bar staff, buying the shirt anyway because you love them right away, requesting their song on the radio, writing to them, and watching them develop into real talent over years. No! Too much work! Instant stars and disposable songs are what people want (of course I’m not so naïve to think that this is entirely a new development), and so far it has proven a powerful lure to capture the public’s attention: you watch the show (two hours a week, maybe more), then you make your phone calls or text messages, and then you buy (and presumably listen to) the music; though the buying variable is the more important part of that particular equation. Still, American Idol is rather more indicative of the malaise afflicting the music industry than a solution to it. All the show does is make explicit the emptiness of pop music and the root of the reasons many people are less willing to pay for it. Simply put, generic music is not worth it when you can pirate it (and better) for free, or when there is just so much of it and there are so many other things to occupy your time.

Thus Interactive Music, the early stages of which are characterized by Karaoke and Guitar Hero. Guess which one I consider more important? Karaoke on its own could never challenge the powerful music industry in North America, especially not at the time it initially became popular. Those pre-Napster years were good for Big Music. Karaoke is certainly seminal, at least with respect to what I’m talking about. But it seems to me that it was destined to be little more than a parlour game—in the West at least—in its current unchanged form. True Interactive Music, on the other hand, is characterized by the ability of the listener (a.k.a. the consumer, user, or player) to be the creator at the same time—to “make it” his or her own. In practice, you might argue, this can be said of any form of music, and certainly Karaoke: The listener can sing along, play along, rerecord and remix it, and then, in theory, release it publicly. Of course, this is the case, but none of that is sufficiently mediated.

Now, here’s the point: What I see with virtual guitar games like Guitar Hero and their Mediated Interactivity is a new model for the music industry. In this model, a band can release an album or a single song in an interactive format, playable on a video game console, a computer, or any compatible player (and of course you can copy the tunes to your iPod, too, or just play it the old-fashioned way on your stereo). The player can play along with the songs on levels from easy to difficult, and “unlock” different features as she goes: extra tracks, remixes, videos, &c.—this is the obvious stuff, initial but secondary incentives. The key for the listener is the opportunity to play the songs either as recorded, or to improvise them (or certain parts of them), and to be judged or rated on her performance. As always with the modern consumer, fun is the primary motivator and goal.

There are advantages for the bands and labels, too. This interactive model combines an entrenched medium—music—with an entertainment medium that is growing extremely quickly—video games. And there is plenty of potential to integrate other media, such as virtual social networking and chat. That is, with Interactive Music, users don’t need to choose between competing entertainments, because they have several in one. People can and will still choose to consume other forms of entertainment; but that’s not quite the issue. For labels, dominance in the market is part of the game, but nowadays perhaps a larger part is simple sustenance. Though among the media there is often conglomeration, there is rarely monopoly. In this model, there exists the possibility to further the American Idol ideal of instant stardom and disposable music. Songs can be modified, easily rerecorded and remixed, and they can easily be redistributed via the internet. They could then be voted on and downloaded for a cost or free—it doesn’t really matter; charts could be made based on player ratings and downloads, all at next-to-no cost for the labels. Most importantly, there would be a far greater incentive for consumers and fans to buy—to pay for—music: it would be interesting again.

It’s happening right now, in fact. Though not on an industry-transforming scale just yet, many of the features are basically in place. Users can buy and download new songs regularly from Microsoft’s Xbox Live service, and I hear that Sony’s Playstation 3 has some embedded features for social networking that are currently unused. But better than that, independent individuals are taking the initiative to develop the pieces of the puzzle for indie musicians and labels to take things into their own hands. There is a free, open-source Virtual Guitar game—Frets on Fire (fretsonfire.sourceforge.net)—that shows great promise for keeping indie music independent of the majors. CustomHero.net offers a service to convert regular songs into interactive songs, and ScoreHero.com provides an initial framework for scoring and judging. And with the speed at which technology and ideas are moving these days, the cross-platform spread of these games, and their broad appeal, I imagine a time in the near future when in homes across the world we will find families sitting together in front of the TV like they used to, but instead of staring dumbly at the screen, they will play and interact and give each other high fives. And all will be right with the world. Read on..!

Three months

So, I have been out of sight for a while to some, mostly nesting you might say, but not entirely in that young-couple-deep-in-love-who-want-to-spend-every-moment-together way. More literally (but not quite literally), Danijela and I have been building our nest, gathering twigs and mud, securing it against the elements... Still, there has been a lot of that other type, since we are new homeowners, and after several months of marriage, we are at last living alone together.



But I, as I have mentioned in a previous post, have also been working at a new job, which requires me to leave the nest most days and fly to Concord, near Dufferin St. and Steeles Ave. It's not as bad as it sounds. I have become skilled at flying and reading, and I recently finished Neil Gaiman's American Gods—a 600-page novel—in about a week, a feat I hadn't accomplished for some time. It is, by the way, a very good book, and I highly recommend it. I will almost certainly proceed to read the rest of his books in the near future.

Besides, I actually enjoy my new job immensely, more than any job I have ever previously held. In case I haven't mentioned, I am an assistant editor for a business-to-business publisher of human resources policy manuals, as well as a related website that collects and consolidates Canadian HR and employment law news. And in the past month, I have begun writing articles for the website, HRinfodesk.com, on such topics as pension plan reform and paid paternal leave.

Even better, at the moment, one of my articles is available for free! So, if you're interested in seeing how I've spent part of my creative energy over the last while, please take a look.

Health care plan review

Maybe there'll be more free stuff to come, but as it stands, if you want to talk about workplace wellness programs or the state of corporate social responsibility, just let me know! Read on..!

A moving story, chapter 3: Big events

Here’s what next: more work, at home and the office! But not for long. I wasn’t even back at work for a whole week before I was fired, what! (That was April 10.) I am not lying. I basically faced one of the greatest shocks of my life, and, justifiably, I think, the following days are unclear. I had been ready to work at that job for several years to finance my new domestic lifestyle; but, admittedly, I was not challenged by the work, and it left me wanting creative activities. Anyway, I got two weeks severance and a kick in the pants to move on with things, and it meant that I could spend the next while at home working on the house, in between looking for jobs, of course. So you don’t worry too much, the day after I left Caliper, I followed a good lead, which led to an interview and a job offer a week later, and I will be starting work again next week. All told, three weeks off between jobs. I won’t even get the pleasure of collecting an EI cheque.

But back to the house. Hmm. Well, about a week after we moved in, our electricians came along to start work. I believe I mentioned something about having to rewire the entire deal. All but one room, that is, and even that room needed the ground wires connected. So for the following two weeks they roamed through the house drilling holes in the walls and leaving piles of rubble and dust in their wake. We occasionally cleaned up after them only to have them come back the next day and leave another mess. It has been difficult to say the least (for us and for them!) to live in the house as it is under renovation. And if I may offer some advice to new home buyers, it is this: if possible, try to get as much structural work done as you can before moving in. That should save you some pretty major headaches. The electricians have had to get into the attic and under the house to do their thing, and if we weren’t here to get in the way and live with the dust and debris, we would all be happier! Nonetheless, it’s almost done, and they have been very good and fast, and we didn’t really have the option of living elsewhere in the meantime.

The weekend before last was a really big one. The biggest yet I guess. Danijela’s parents came into town on Saturday to do some work and spend the night and prepare for a big work day on Sunday. Also on Saturday morning, my dad came over to rearrange the plumbing for the washer and basin sink in the basement. Of course, the electricians had shut off the power down there, so we worked by flashlight. Of course, the basement is really quite far from our minds at the moment with all the important stuff to do above ground. (But personally, I can’t wait to get building a studio there.) Also that day, I pulled out from the garden all of the metal poles and bits that previously supported a vegetable garden. A couple of days later, I would get down and dirty and remove all the cigarette butts from the soil (in one section at least). On Sunday, several of Danijela’s uncles came down along with her aunt and cousin for a housework blitz that transformed the house in hours. Most of the work was painting, and that day we almost completed the upstairs, but we also extended the heating into the back room office and installed laminate flooring in there, we tore out the basement “bedroom”, and added heating to the basement bathroom. That was all very very promising, though again, after we cleaned up, the electricians left their little piles. And aside from the weekends, progress is slow. But it goes on!

Tuesday, the 15th, my friends Jon and Graham and I began carting off the junk in Jon’s pick up. I hadn’t been inside a transfer station before, and boy was that a treat. Needless to say it stank, and we tried to get in and out of there as quickly as possible. At the same time, shovelling garbage from the back of a truck straight onto the ground did offer some satisfaction. Jon and I went again last Saturday morning only to find a line stretching down the street and around the corner, maybe 100 cars long. In the end we waited an hour and some just to get in, then another 40-odd minutes to get out! I guess the dump is a popular weekend hangout.

Danijela and I have now spent several mornings racing to IKEA to eat elevenses before they stopped serving their dollar breakfast. Well, technically, we went to shop for various bits--light fixtures, curtains, and a desk the first time; I’m not sure we bought anything the second time; and the third time, a cupboard, shelf set, and a bunch of organizing boxes--but a delicious second breakfast is certainly an incentive. And I’m sure we’ll come up with another excuse to go before I start working again. We’ve also been making numerous trips to the renovation plaza at Keele and St. Clair streets. That is, the massive plaza with a Rona, Home Depot, Canadian Tire, Dominion, Staples, a drive through ATM, and, believe me, much more. It’s handy, and I get to practice my driving. A couple of weeks ago, I went with Danijela’s dad, and we had to return in a very illegal fashion, with Mile sitting in the back on the folded-down seat with no seat belt, because there was too much stuff in the car. I only worry about this sort of thing because I’ve only got my G1 license, and the penalty is worse than just a fine I think. Whatever, right? It won’t be the last time I do something like that (sorry Mum!).

Now I can’t get our internet to work, so I have to hijack someone’s wireless. Thank goodness for those generous folk who don’t secure their connections! Read on..!

A moving story, chapter 2: Livin' the dream

Here's Danijela and Adam's house adventure after three weeks: things are a mess, but it's a mess in progress. (And I am a poet, and I don't know it.) For those who saw the house on our moving day, or soon after, you may remember a basically clean if very dated and colour-challenged house. Today there is dust everywhere, there are holes in the walls, bits of furniture everywhere, drop sheets hiding boxes, there is a TV on the floor, and one naked room awaiting insulation and drywall. But let me start where I left off.

In the first week, progress moved slowly. It took us that whole week just to get the kitchen in working order--that being the most important room for frugal people after a move. We took the highly varnished doors off of the numerous cupboards, scrubbed them with TSP, sanded down the bits of goo that wouldn't come off otherwise, then painted them all white, along with the cupboards themselves--inside and out. We soaked the hardware in TSP and found that they were actually brass, not sticky brown. (Only glazed meat products, generally found in Korean or Chinese restaurants, should ever be sticky brown.) Then we put the whole shebang back together and finally emptied our first boxes. Oh the excitement of that day! But remember that took most of a week, and that was only half of the kitchen. The other half still awaits attention.

I had begun preparing one of the upstairs rooms for painting--washing the smoke-stained walls. If you remember, they were brown from paint, but they were extra brown from various types of smoke. And I noticed something special the other day: I don't want to judge the people who previously lived here, but there are a few points that really annoy me. One in particular is that in each of the window screens on the second floor--where the daughter and son-in-law of the owner lived with two of their kids--there is a small hole cut to allow for easy cigarette ash and butt disposal. In fact, in the bathroom, they cut out half of the screen right to the edges of the frame. We found a nice pile of butts outside under that window, as well as on the front lawn and in the vegetable garden. No further comment. Anyway, Danijela and I decided to work together to get the kitchen done and to entertain each other. We actually listened to the radio for most of that week--mostly because we couldn't be bothered to dig out our CDs. Actually, we were better off then--our stereo is buried again now.

Then we were off to Montreal to surprise the young James Braithwaite and usher him into old age. I hope the attendants are treating you well at the retirement home my good friend. We had a great time there, though, as always, too short. And for the first weekend of April, there was so much snow still on the ground! I mean, there was still snow in Toronto--a lot for that time of year--but my goodness, Montreal, I hope you've recovered at last! I shouldn't talk though, Danijela and I have been past Yorkdale mall a few times recently on our way to Ikea North York (more on that later), and there are still piles of the brown stuff in the parking lots there. Anyway, the mood came down a bit on the drive home when we learned that someone had stolen our brand new barbeque from our garage. We discovered this because we had left our house key in there for Danijela's dad and uncle to come in and do some work. Some time after he found out, he called us, about four hours away, to let us know. The garage was unlocked because we had had trouble with the lock, so I suppose it was an easy target. But it is a pretty crap welcome to the neighbourhood. Still, we learned a valuable lesson--not "lock up your stuff, because your neighbours are all crooks", but "listen to your instincts": I had the idea on a couple of occasions to at least lock things up inside the garage if we couldn't lock the garage itself. So, while we will certainly warm the house this summer, I'm afraid that we will have to use a little $10 barbeque from Canadian Tire. I would still like to have a look around the neighbourhood pawn shops to see if I can find our lost beauty, but I haven't got around to it yet. The joys of home ownership!

At any rate, while we were away in la belle province, eating delicious salads and basking in the beautiful early spring weather, some big things were happening back home in the Junction. On Saturday, my dad came in to enlarge the opening between the two front rooms on our main floor. He raised the doorway about half a metre or so, and it looks great. It will look especially good once it's framed and finished. Right now, and for the past two weeks, the opening has been covered by a plastic sheet help up by duct tape. On Sunday, Danijela's dad and uncle came in and tore down the plaster and lath on the outer walls and ceiling of the main floor front room, exposing the frame of this beautiful house of ours. This created about fifteen massive bags of dust and bundles of wood, which weighed down our already sagging porch for several days. (Did I forget to mention that one corner of the porch appears to have sunk about 15-20 cm from the time it was built?)

Danijela soon heard from a friendly neighbour that we had best not catch the eye of the local building inspector, so with the help of a go-ped left behind (probably in the crawl space) we moved most of the bags around the side of the house and left them to be rained on for a couple of days. Not surprisingly, then, they got soggy. Surprisingly, though, only one of them actually broke.

What next, what next? Read on..!

A moving story, chapter 1

So, as some of you know, Danijela and I bought a house in January of this year. That gave us about two months to stew in that broth of responsibility before the sale closed on March 27. There was lots to do, of course. We knew that we would be doing an awful lot of work on the house, and we were willing. The electrical was mostly original and had to be replaced so that we could be insured (if not only for our peace of mind and convenience). The roof shingles will have to be replaced this year, the furnace soon after. There is some awful fake brick plastered on the front of the house—over the original brick, which looks in fine shape, from the few spots where the overlay has broken. That will have to go, along with the porch; the latter we'll replace in some form or another. Also, the basement is basically unfinished, and will take a couple of months of destruction and construction to create my ultimate man cave. Those were the things we knew about or were fully aware of.

It was an exciting time, those two months, and stressful, too. I began packing early in February, which created havoc in our old apartment. Of course that was inevitable with three persons living in maybe 500 square feet, with our belongings overflowing into the hallway/fire escape path shared with our downstairs neighbour. We had to transfer our utilities accounts and change all of our registered addresses. Credit cards, drivers' licenses, everything. And then dealing with the financial stuff: the mortgage and insurance, getting quotes, getting details, finalizing things, signing things, and on and on. Thank God, Danijela is amazing with this stuff. Without her, the whole process would have been a disaster. She managed somehow to keep track of everything that we had to do and when, and it all got done and nothing got lost (that we know of). If anybody wants to know more details about this stuff, feel free to ask me or Danijela.

When we got the keys, we were excited. Danijela went to visit the house with her dad right away. It was a Thursday afternoon, so I was working, but afterwards, we returned to have another look. Finally, we were in! That two months had felt like ages to me, and now, here it was, empty, silent, ours, full of potential. I could see how I wanted it to look, though I could also see the current state of it. I wanted to start right away. I couldn't wait until the weekend, and I had booked off the following week from work.

Of course, then came the surprises. The entire interior of the house needs repainting. Most of it is brown, including the ceiling in the upstairs bathroom, and most of what isn't brown is dark (blue and red), which, besides washing, will require several coats of primer and paint. The room we are planning on using as our bedroom was covered in fake wood panelling, which, once removed, revealed the original plaster, cracking and damaged and hiding a near complete lack of insulation. Elsewhere, the lighting is bad: in the upstairs bathroom, there is only one light; it's on the wall—opposite the mirror so it is effectively useless. Other rooms have equally ineffective lights, mostly failing to light anything beyond a metre-radius. A raised addition at the back of the house hid a pile of junk including nasty old shoes, a squash racquet, a broken shovel and shears, wires, soil, general garbage, and a plastic swan, which is probably the most useful thing in the pile. That same addition also lacks heating (at least it has a ceiling light).

Lest I sound like I'm just complaining, I love this house—our house. It has "great bones" and it is in a terrific "up and coming" neighbourhood, the Junction. With Spring here and warm weather on the way, I can't wait to throw open the windows and relax in the yard and clean up the lawn and maybe plant a garden (eventually—probably not this year). There's an evergreen tree right in front of the house now that we'll probably replace with something deciduous that we can watch grow. Joy. Read on..!