Saturday, 24 June 2023

EDMONTON EXISTENTIAL


When the Rain Comes


I was fifteen feet up, near the top of the aluminum ladder. And the rain came down just like that defiant, multi-generational lament on Steve Earle’s seminal Exit 0 album. Ann had spotted me as I’d climbed to the roofline. The ladder’s base was braced against one of the railway ties that form the barrier between the rear of our front garden and the narrow path that takes visitors around to the back of the Crooked 9. I was perfectly grounded thanks to the quarter-inch synthetic rubber soles of my yard shoes. Right. While trying not to look down, I did notice that Ann, wisely, had stepped away from the lightning rod I was perched on even though the severe thunderstorm weather warning was no longer a red alert on any of our weather apps – we tend to choose the day’s best forecast and hope.


Ann and I had stood fretting, framed in the dining room window watching the eaves trough’s overflow cascade before our eyes in a relentless sheet, a silver blind; we were on the wrong side of a waterfall. I fret, Ann frets and together we redouble our efforts. This is the power of thinking that’s generally not positive. But nor is water pooling hard by the foundation of a house, brand new in 1955, with a spotty history of leaks and seeps. It’s crucial that those durable asbestos tiles in the basement remain destined to be somebody else’s problem.


The dehumidifier has been working double time downstairs since last Tuesday. There’s so much paper down there: scribbled notes, typed manuscript drafts, books, CD inserts and record albums. Other stuff averse to moisture too, including a post-apocalyptic toilet paper supply from Costco, and family heirlooms.


The week’s rain was the proverbial mixed blessing. Farmers require it, but not at a sustained, punishing velocity. The deluge was a dousing boon for the wildfire fighters working throughout Alberta. Of course, there was the curious case of Edson, a town halfway between Edmonton and Jasper. In the space of a week locals were issued two sequential Old Testament evacuation alerts: the first for hellfire and the second for flooding.


The Edmonton Riverhawks first homestand of the West Coast League season was scheduled to be six games, three apiece versus the Kamloops Northpaws and the Nanaimo Nightowls. I understand the club managed to squeeze in one. I can’t confirm that because Postmedia’s Edmonton Journal seems to have added baseball to the list of city stories it does not cover, a lengthy one that already includes the provincial legislature and city hall; the paper’s dwindling pool of loyal readers have been instructed to blame Facebook and Google – but I digress.


We’re lucky to have two birch trees on the property, one close to the house in front of the dining room window. Birch trees are deciduous. This is the time of year when they drop their ropy seeds. They will stain concrete brown when saturated. In sopping clusters they make damn fine dams in eaves troughs. I don’t help matters either. I’ve inserted light bulb-shaped wire grilles into every downspout drain. A clog up top is preferable to removing a length of downspout from the side of the house and reaming it out with a hockey stick. Covering the eaves troughs with mesh in a winter city is just begging for trouble, a bit like standing on a ladder during a rainstorm; the icicles that form will not only be spectacular but potentially lethal – it’s safer to walk under ladders.


My father didn’t take up golf until late in his life, but when I was a kid he always kept a nine-iron with his workshop tools. The angle of the club head was ideal for scraping eaves troughs clean, about six feet in each direction. My tools consist of a disused car snow brush and a small plot gardening tool of Ann’s, a miniature hoe with a telescoping handle. And rubberized gardening gloves. The most efficient way to clean the eaves troughs is to get on the roof on a sunny day and work from above. But the rough, black shingles heat up in a hurry and I turn green kneeling forward on a down slope.


Routine emergency maintenance forces me to weigh immediate risk against immediate and future peace of mind, as mundane as that may be. Like most people, I’m worth more dead than alive. The worst case outcome would be me getting zapped and the Crooked 9’s foundation being compromised. In this scenario Ann could realize a tidy profit in exchange for the inconvenience of an extensive renovation. I’m pretty sure she’s of the view that any or all potential losses would be incalculable, excepting the 24 toilet rolls.  


meGeoff has been your most unreliable, unbalanced and inaccurate alternative source of meteorology since 2013. The novella Of Course You Did is my latest book. Visit www.megeoff.com for links to purchase it in your preferred format from assorted retailers. 

Wednesday, 14 June 2023

EDMONTON EXISTENTIAL


Summer


This morning’s Globe and Mail featured an interesting bar graph. Because my height, weight and general good health are offset by 25-a-day, statistics indicate I should expect to see another 20 summers. So, there’s still some runway before the brake pedal gets stomped on. Summer is two months to be frittered away without adding to the accumulated regrets of a misspent life.


Oven off; barbecue on. The porch and patio are open to visitors.


Summer must be here because a team other than the Montreal Canadiens has just won the Stanley Cup. Politicians have dismissed themselves from legislative halls; school’s out. And not a moment too soon: Last week the Banshee of Invermectin, Alberta Premier Danielle Smith, noted quite helpfully that D-Day marked the beginning of the Second World War; school’s been blown to pieces.


I’m looking forward to sitting in the ballpark with half my attention on the game and half my attention on a conversation of no great import: Yes, I have no plans, something in September, maybe? Speaking of attention, or lack thereof, there are a couple of heavy duty books on my night table, books about big important stuff but they’re underneath The Lost Continent by Edgar Rice Burroughs; pure pulp for now people.


Jaws must shoulder the blame for the now tired and wretched summer blockbuster movie phenomenon. If the planet was a Hollywood backlot, there can’t possibly be anything left on Earth to blow up real good anymore. My summer thoughts turn to songs. Catchy ones like “Magic” by the Cars. I want “Wild in the Streets” over “Black Day in July,” open hydrants for the street kids rather than riots for adults. Every Top 40 Sly Stone hit there ever was. It’s okay (for a limited time only) to just skim the Stones and the Beatles by listening exclusively to their singles. Springsteen’s first three albums before he recast himself as Raymond Carver. This is what long summer evenings demand and require.


Forget “Hotel California.” I’m going to play Joe Walsh. I want to smile. The Beach Boys are seasonally redundant, the obvious cliché. I like them but I don’t venerate them. They always struck me as too white bread and more than a bit sucky when compared with many of their contemporaries; I mean, Fenton Hardy’s boys are good detectives, but Frank and Joe aren’t exactly noir. And “noir” might apply to Shadow Kingdom, Dylan’s just released soundtrack to the lockdown film he “live” streamed in 2021 (Don’t know how I missed it). The disc has a palpable after hours, Sydney Greenstreet-Blue Parrot, band-in-the-corner ambiance throughout; perfect music for when Edmonton’s nighttime low stalls at Africa hot, and proof that His Bobness can still carry a tune – provided he feels like it.


This summer, number 64 and counting because, alas, they’re not endless in any sense of the word, has arrived with a delightful musical twist. Last week the Muster Point Project debuted their animated lyric video for their latest single “I Got This” on YouTube. This song has more hooks than a fly fisherman’s bucket hat. I wrote the lyrics. It will become the soundtrack of summer 2023 – in my dreams. I don’t want to be Carole King, just one massive hit would suffice. Watch, listen and read along here: Turn it up! The gentle visual gag at the end is worth waiting for. Honest. “I Got This” is also available for download through Amazon Music, Spotify, Tidal and other streaming services I’m unfamiliar with. Anyway, I hope it will enhance your holiday in a modest way – in whatever form that may be.


meGeoff has been your most unreliable, unbalanced and inaccurate alternative source of light reading since 2013. The novella Of Course You Did is my latest book. Visit www.megeoff.com for links to purchase it in your preferred format from assorted retailers