vintage CRANK 5000

Another Lost Robot sign found on my new street...

LOST ROBOT
vintage CRANK 5000

1999 model with internal organization.
good dude, don't fix what ain't broke.
last seen finding parts for oversize toaster oven.
we need/miss Crank more than you can know.
please e-mail lostbots@gmail.com

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Just doing my part in the quest to return lost bots to their adoring owners.

cosmo & jess

friday night we visited the new house and decided to walk down to the place on the corner and grab a bite. we had scarely closed the gate and started down the sidewalk when a couple and their two dogs asked if we were the new owners. yes, that's us. they told us that they have the exact same house as us, they are even on the same side of the semi so we have identical floor plans/space to work with. they introduced us to their dogs, cosmo and jess who seemed delighted to dance and giggle snort in our direction. they were renovating and invited us in to see what they had done, and what they were planning to do. it was a bit deja vu because some of the decisions we were thinking of, they had already done. christmas future. they already created a main floor apartment like we had planned and actually helped us solve a major issue with respect to the entrances and stairs. she is an artist, moving to Tuscany for four months to teach. he is a carpenter working on deluxe custom homes. cosmo decided to show off in the attic space by lounging and posing (as though for a photo shoot) on his "where is cosmo?" rug...identically matched to his fur.

cab driver philosophy

one of the little known gems of city living is the free advice offered by cab drivers en route. maybe it's not completely free, but it's there, in addition to the ride, if you are open to recieive it. today, i found myself in Solomon's cab, a smiling Jamacain man.

i noticed how happy he looked and he said "it's a way of life, it's what it's all about. you have to find ways to make yourself happy, then you will be happy. other people don't have time to make you happy, you can't rely on others to make you happy. If you're happy, you'll make other people happy."

hmmm...he may be on to something.

a trip to shangri-la

sounds perfect, doesn't it? you imagine twinkling lights, lush greenery, maybe an oasis in the distance, calm smiles from yogi masters sipping organic wheat grass tea in Japanese cups, don't you?

well.

not this shangri-la. we pulled into the camp ground near Niagara on-the-Lake, and found it to be a haven for the Trailer Park Boys' less trendy cousins. they were nice enough to include us in the raffle for a case of beer. welcome to wine country!

RV living is quite funny. you press a button, boom! you've got a living room. you press another one -- boom! there's a bedroom. they're called Slide-outs. imagine what a slide out could do to the average tiny apartment. boom! boom! office, guest bedroom.

(context: we were on holiday with my parents, the weekend after the tunnel of love sojourn.)

touring the wineries was "like diamonds." Jackson-Triggs lingers in my mind, modern bliss erupting from the mundane. we felt, oh-so-Sideways careening the back streets with a hint of cabernet on our breath. (except for the driver, of course)the lush greenery rushing past our windows.

just so you don't think, it's all "hints of dark chocolate and a touch of French oak"...one of the highlights was a steaming piece of homemade pizza from a local bakery, eaten under a rainy awning on the main street. gulped back with black cherry pop shoppe pop. ah... shangri-la!

these eyes

burton cummings tribute, live from Canadian Idol. savour the cheese, share the love. we were in the nosebleed section, upper balcony, row gg. surrounded by neon signs screaming -- I love you Rex, Grandma's Idol: Melissa, Guess Who? and various other declarations of support. my dad knew every word of every song. my brother was too cool for school, especially with his new sorta girlfriend in our company. my mum, with her martha stewart-esque cardigan thrown around her shoulders was a constant grinner, tapping her feet and swaying to the tunes.

it will be one of those shows that years from now, we look back on as a Canadian phenomenon. in fact, we're already encouraged to look upon it that way. from the boo-ing of judges with critical things to say, to uproarious cheers, pandemonium ala Beatles style, we are encouraged to get off our asses, to care, to vote. the karoake show that wears its' heart on its' sleeve. there is something to be said for diving right in. taking a side. singing like it's your last song. thank you, thank you very much.

artifact found & lost again: ancient nativity set

wandered thru the house last night. it's starting to take shape. the wall between our kitchen and living room is now gone and you can really get a sense of the flow of the space. we discovered old gas pipes for gas lamps, as well as the remnants of a fireplace in our living room on the second floor. last week, dN stumbled across a nativity set found in the basement as they were doing structural work. it's gone missing though, so i never had a chance to take a peek. an odd thing to steal but perhaps angels swooped in and recovered it.

on the weekend we met with tony, our fixtures guy. his shop is a funny non-descript place on the edge of town that has good prices on name-brand stuff. his phone rings to the tune of Dallas (the 80s soap opera) and his voice is mafia scratchy. if we ever disappear without a trace, look for tony.

30 minutes in the tunnel of love

even on the best of days, 30 minutes of jack hammer and night club noises with your head velcroed into a brace in the "tunnel of love" mri, is no picnic. i am sure my alter ego is a super hero, capable of zen-like peace in the tunnel, for days on end, rich pastoral images floating past her in the style of The English Patient. "Can I stay longer?" she asks. "Did you get what you needed?" she enquires. She looks over at me. "Is it me or is there a lack of air in this thing?" I say.

Hell, no! She is an oxygen-machine, activated upon entry into the tunnel, capable of providing top grade, rain forest clean O2 for an entire village in Peru. I look at her, out of the corner of my eye, with a smirk. You win!

papers in the wind

In a moment of "why can't I enjoy summer and work at the same time?"...I decided to mark up a report on the sunny front porch. first I brought the wrong binder outside, then I locked myself out, thankfully had a spare key. then i forgot my highlighter and went inside to get it. while i was gone, the wind rolled the paper weights off my papers. the papers stole away into the alleyway and into the neighbour's yard. page 6 could not be found. i suppose it was a jail break moment. i wouldn't want to live in the prison of my black binder either.

p.lo (not jlo)

nick, the odd suit hired to gather samples for our life insurance application for our new mortgage arrived at our door at 9:00am sharp this saturday morning. his collection of gadgets and questionaires spilled onto our living room coffee table. we tried to act nonchalant as he enquired into every nook and cranny of our health histories. he even pulled out a scale to weigh us. we had to pee in cups and leave the jar by the sink so he could transfer it to a smaller vial. makes you feel so invaded. all your details adding up into some formula fed into a system that will either accept or reject you. you are a science project, not a person but a series of inputs and outputs. i kept wanting to hand a golden ticket to the gatekeeper at the carnival, some smiling buddha that would wink and let us shuffle by, cheating death and misfortune. fingers crossed. i'd take that over a life insurance policy any day.

tango in the park

it started with a couple, gliding in a tango, under the bandshell in the park. she wore a red dress and dangerously high heels. in a blink, there were many pairs of legs, tangled and tracing invisible patterns on the concrete, warm cuban music filling the sky. we spied them from our green blanket beneath the oak umbrella tree.

a mile in your shoes

to whom it may concern, i am sorry for accidentally mistaking your running shoes for mine at the gym today. silly me. the shoes were not at all alike. yours had large patches of purple and had two holes in the toes and were some rare swedish brand. our stars were aligned in that we were both size 7s and our shoes were lined up together at the workout mats, in the "no shoes allowed" section. to think, i almost brought them back to Sporting Life to return them! the store clerks would have thought i was on crack. maybe i am.

anyhow, the 10 minutes in your shoes were quite comfortable. so thank you for walking around in your stocking feet in search of me, the daft shoe thief. you kindly returned my new pair, no up roar.